by Jessa Kane
She struggles to take my cock deeper, her mouth opening in a pleasured O when she manages to let me sink in another inch. “How…Ryan, how do you know about that matching bra and panties set?”
I scrutinize her face closely, searching for signs of fear, but I see nothing but excitement. A spark of breathless mischief, even. And fuck it, I want her to know. I’m full to brimming with this wild infatuation and I can’t hide it anymore. “I watch you. I see every fucking thing you do.” I give her my full weight, pinning to the mattress and grinding my cock into her narrow, constricting passage. “I’m not just your best friend. I’m your stalker. And now, I’m your God.” I reach down and massage her clit with the pad of my thumb, all the while maintaining a steady thrust and grind, watching it turn her eyes visionless. “Aren’t I, princess? You’re going to let me stalk and obsess over you, as long as I feed you this cock every night.”
Despite her visible excitement, she wants to ask more questions, but I’m too eager for more proof of her satisfaction.
My thumb exerts more pressure on her clit, moves faster and she begins to squirm wildly, her tits starting to shine with sweat. Jesus Christ, she’s more beautiful like this than I fantasized, her sobs breaking in her throat, her thighs jerking around my hips.
“Give me an answer,” I rasp, dipping my head to nip and suck on the skin beneath her ear. “Will you let me continue acting fucking insane over you…” I thrust my cock faster, harder, sensing the scream building in her throat. “If I keep this pussy creamy?”
An orgasm wracks her body and I treasure every tremble, every gasp for air, every tightening of her muscles beneath me. “Yes! S-stalk me. Just don’t stop. Please don’t stop.”
“Good girl,” I croon in her ear, my own release beginning to crest. “You made the only choice.” I continue to massage her clit until she’s boneless beneath me, then I reach back with both hands and yank her knees up higher around my waist and…and fuck…oh fuck. I can’t slow down. My hips slam down between her thighs over and over. My balls hurt so goddamn bad and I’m so close. Spikes dig into my lower back and travel inward, turning my cock to a pinnacle of pain and I fall onto Jessie, growling into her neck and pumping inside of her sweet cunt for everything I’m worth. “Take my come, baby. Take my come. I only make it for you.”
I meet her eyes just in time to catch another spark of her exhilaration. She likes this wild side of me, she likes me insane and filthy over her. In time, I’ll make her love it.
Maybe I’m lucky and she already does.
My release doesn’t creep up on me slowly, it demolishes. Four of my senses cease to function, leaving only touch. The feel of her little pussy rhythmically seizing up around my dick. Again. And again. Pressure leaves my balls, rifling up my stalk of flesh and firing into Jessie’s dripping fuck hole and I pound, pound, pound. I can do nothing but pound into her like my life depends on it. It just might. If I don’t get every drop into her body, I think I’ll lose what’s left of my mind. Fuck it into her. Get her pregnant.
MINE.
Goddamn, it seems to take hours before I’ve relieved the ache in my loins and spurted the final ounce into Jessie. I fall on top of her with a groan, fulfillment spreading throughout my insides, seeping into my bones.
“I love you,” I whisper into her hair, turning on my side and taking her with me. “Oh my God, I love you so much.”
She’s quiet, but slowly, she clings to me, rubbing her face in my chest hair.
“You’re going to want to freak out,” I say, kissing her forehead. “But we’ll get through it together. Okay? I’m permanent, princess. We’re permanent.”
After a moment, she nods.
I wait until I feel her go weightless with sleep and then I follow her.
CHAPTER SEVEN
Jessie
I stare up at the ceiling, having an out-of-body experience.
No, that’s not quite right. I’m definitely in my body. I can feel the soreness between my legs and the lingering strain in my calves from all the toe curling I did earlier. My vocal cords feel the trauma of screaming, so yes, I’m in my body. But I might as well be floating up around Jupiter or Mars. Did I really just have sex with Ryan?
Not just sex, though. Based on the conversations I’ve overheard at the hair salon, sex is usually so-so for the woman. There are a lot of toys involved in the female orgasm. Or so I thought. Ryan didn’t need any of that. Just his tongue, his fingers and…
His footlong.
I’m suddenly craving a sandwich.
Focus, Jessie.
Right, I’ve just slept with my best friend. Without a condom. And I think…I think I want to do it again, as soon as humanly possible. Like I’m kind of forcing myself not to roll Ryan on his back and find out if I’m a good cowgirl.
Before I do any of that, though, I should probably have a little talk with myself about his, ahem. Admitted stalking habits. Mainly, why does it turn me on? For someone who likes to keep their own personal space and share very little about themselves, I grow decidedly hot thinking of Ryan watching me when I’m not aware. Or ejaculating in his pants without me knowing, simply from witnessing me do the most mundane things.
Obsessed.
His own word choice.
Maybe I like not being given a choice. He’s not going anywhere. He can’t. He’s obsessed with me. And God, with every passing moment, I grow a little obsessed with him, too.
His scent swarms around me now, warm and masculine and musky. His strong arm bands around my waist possessively, his leg hair ticking my calf. Slowly, I turn my head and look him over. The rough angle of his chin, the sexy stubble, the sexuality of his mouth—which, how did I not notice that before now? My gaze skates over his muscular shoulders and sturdy neck. I can’t believe he’s honed his body into a powerhouse…for me.
My nipples stiffen in the cool air, my pulse fluttering in my neck.
I think I need to distance myself just a tad from the god that is my best friend while I’m coming to terms with my decisions. He’s way too distracting.
As carefully as possible, I slide out from beneath his arm and get out of bed, padding soundlessly out of the bedroom. The red dress is still bunched around my waist and I hoist it up now, chuckling to myself over how little it covers. I poke through the takeout bag and find a mini baguette to munch on—I do my best thinking when I eat—and I ponder my situation.
In so many words, I’ve agreed to be Ryan’s…girlfriend.
And possibly a mother, since we didn’t use a condom and he came inside me for at least five straight minutes. This possibility should scare me a lot more than it does, but this is Ryan. Ryan is my rock. Today he was my hero. Not to mention, I’ve always had a secret wish to try and give a child a better youth than the one I had. Granted I assumed it would be through the Big Sister program, but hey, now is the time to adapt.
To change.
Take a leap.
With Ryan.
Goosebumps travel down the entire length of me just thinking about him. How resourceful he was today, when saving me at the robbery. How he’s proven how well he knows me. How understanding he is about my skittishness and…how commanding he was in bed.
I take a bracing breath and set down the baguette, ready to go back to the bedroom. Earlier, I told Ryan I wanted to be with him, but I said that mostly so he would cave and make love to me. Now my whole heart is invested. I want to try and have something real, something committed, with him.
Excitement bubbles in my chest and I make a quick bee-line to the kitchen drawers, planning on unearthing matches so I can light the candles…
What I find instead makes my breath catch in my throat.
It’s a black velvet box with a diamond ring inside.
Blood rushing in my ears, I drop it on the counter. Oh my God. It’s an engagement ring.
Familiar panic floods me and I back away from the counter, knocking into one of the chairs. I just got used to the idea of being his girlfrie
nd—the idea of trying—and now I find this, the proof that he wants me to be his wife. Now. Now, before I’ve even confirmed I’m any good at being in a romantic relationship. Did he bring the ring with him? Or has it been sitting here since last year or the year before?
I rub at my throat and turn in a circle, eyeing the front door.
I can’t do this. It’s too much too soon.
Ryan was right, I’m freaking out. He knew I would. I should go into the bedroom, wake him up and let him calm me down, but do I want that? Do I want to be talked out of the cold logic I’ve always leaned on?
The car keys catch my eye on the kitchen table where Ryan left them—and the temptation to embrace the fear and run proves too much.
I snatch the keys up and jog for the door.
The longer I’ve been away from Ryan, the emptier I feel.
When I got into the rental car, I had convinced myself running was the right thing to do, but now, a few hours later, I couldn’t feel more wrong. I wish I could go back in time and crawl into bed beside his strong body and kiss him awake.
Instead, I drove straight to our apartment, changed my clothes, and went to his closet, my mind on one track. Finish what I started that morning and retrieve the money my mother needs. Never mind that I couldn’t stop crying as took the money out of the shoeboxes. Or that I found dozens of pictures of me taped to the wall of Ryan’s closet.
Me smiling, working, jogging, buying coffee. He really has been stalking me.
But there was something so warm about the shots he captured. They weren’t clinical or creepy, they were packed full of yearning. Yearning I understand now, because my chest is full of it for Ryan. But I’ve chosen to squander the future he offered me in favor of living in the past, didn’t I?
It’s nighttime on Valentine’s Day now and I’m sitting outside of the motel room where my mother is staying, a grocery bag filled with money on the passenger seat beside me. If I had my cell phone with me, I know Ryan would be calling me non-stop. Oh man, I would give anything to hear his voice right now. That deep, steady drawl.
Feeling as if my feet are caked in cement, I drag the money off the seat and climb out of the car, knocking on my mother’s door a moment later. She answers immediately, a cigarette perched in the corner of her lips. She only spares me a quick glance before her gaze searches out the money. When she spies it in my hand, only then does she grow welcoming.
“Well, now. Come on in, sweetheart.” She steps back and beckons me to join her in the motel room. “I missed you. I thought you’d forgotten about me.”
“No.” I smile weakly. “I didn’t.”
Normally, I would want to linger with my mother and remind myself why I keep to myself, emotionally and physically. Right now, however, all I can think about is getting out of there. I should let Ryan know I’m okay, at the very least. I should make sure he found a way home from the cabin, since I took the only vehicle. God, I’m the worst best friend in history.
What if this is the final straw and he gives up on me?
“Um…” My voice cracks as I hand my mother the bag. “This should be enough to cover your prescriptions for the next year.”
Her crack of delighted laughter makes me jump. She grabs the bag and peers inside, setting it on the bed beside…what looks like a designer purse and a plane ticket. “Thanks, Jessie. I know I can always count on you.”
I point at the ticket. “Where are you going?” I ask through numb lips.
“Vegas for a while.” She waves her hands like it’s no big deal. “I have some friends out there I haven’t seen in a while.”
“Really,” I say in a hollow tone. “You told me you couldn’t even afford medication. But you can afford a trip to Vegas? Helping you out would have made me late on rent this month…” Which is why I tried to knock over a convenience store. “At least until I found out…until I came into some cash—”
“You came into some cash?” My mother perks up. “How much?” She pokes at the grocery bag. “Is this all you can spare?”
No, it’s not. There were four shoeboxes full of money and I only brought the contents of one. And I start to feel guilty over that fact until Ryan’s words come back to me, filling my ear as if he’s standing beside me.
I think your weaknesses are actually what make you strong. Compassion. Loyalty. Bravery. You just have to know when to say enough. That’s it, princess.
“Enough,” I say firmly, surprised by the sound of my own voice. But it grows stronger. “I’ve given you enough, mother. Thank you for protecting me when I was a child, but…if you come back here and ask me for another dime, the answer will be no.” I point at the bag. “This is the last time.”
A minute later, I leave my stunned mother behind me and walk out of the motel room with a weight gone from my shoulders. Without Ryan to remind me I’m a strong human being, I would have lived with the weight of responsibility forever.
Ryan.
I’m so sorry.
But I’m not hopeless. No, right now, I can do anything I set my mind to.
And I know exactly what I have to do.
CHAPTER EIGHT
Ryan
I’m not calm.
I’ll be anything but calm until I’m holding Jessie in my arms again.
After calling a cab to bring me back to Philadelphia, I spent the entire ride telling myself it wasn’t useful to be hurt she’d left after finding the engagement ring. It was still on the counter when I went to drag her back to bed. I’d purchased the ring two Valentine’s Days prior, planning to use it every year, then choosing to bide my time instead, until she was ready.
I expected her to spiral and have second thoughts. I mentally prepared for this. Still, waking up to find her gone was a knife through the heart and I’ve had no success trying to dislodge it. Did I imagine the affectionate way she looked at me? The way she curled into my body, like she trusted me to weather any storm?
I will.
I will until the end of time. Even if I have to track her down, time and time again, to convince her of that truth.
I’m striding down the hallway to our apartment, keys in hand, and if she’s not home, I’m going to change and head down to the station. With Jessie preparing to commit armed robbery this morning, I didn’t have time to find her mother’s current address. But that is where I’ll search next if she’s not on the other side of this door.
I shove my key into the lock and lunge into the apartment, her name on my lips.
And I’m brought up short, struck silent.
There are candles everywhere, reflecting off the walls while soft violin music plays from the kitchen. The dining room table is set for two people, sprinkled with red rose petals, along with the floor. Jessie, my Jessie, stands in the center of it all wearing the red dress and high heels, her eyes wide and hopeful.
“Hello Ryan,” she says haltingly, her eyes taking on a sheen. “Happy Valentine’s Day.”
Vaguely, I hear the apartment door close behind me. I can barely hear a damn thing over the wild pounding on my heart. What is all this? What does it mean?
How soon can I touch her again?
I hate it when she cries. She needs me.
“You’re mad at me,” she says, misinterpreting my silence. “Of course you are. I would want to kill me, too.” She swipes at her eyes. “You were right, about my mother. I just needed to see it for myself—and I did. And I missed you horribly the whole time. From the moment I left the cabin. Because you’re not just my best friend, you’re…the man I’ve loved all along, aren’t you? You’re the best man I could have fallen in love with and I’m the worst possible woman you could have picked, but if you’re still willing to love me, even though I made you hide your true self for so long and then…stranded you at a cabin when you finally got enough courage to be honest, then I’m yours.”
She blows out a shaky breath…
…and kneels, knocking the breath out of my lungs.
There’s something
in her hand I didn’t see before. A ring box?
My legs turn to water and I have to use the kitchen table for support.
“I’m asking you to be my husband. My permanent valentine,” she whispers, opening the box to reveal two gold bands. A thick one and a thinner, more feminine one. “I hope it goes without saying that I’m yours. Totally and completely yours.”
I move before my mind catches up on what’s happening, scooping Jessie off the ground and up against my chest. As soon as her smooth skin brushes me, it’s like being pinched to prove I’m not asleep. She is real. She’s real and she just proposed to me, right when I thought we’d have to start from scratch. I can barely fucking process my dreams coming true. This woman is mine. I get to worship her forever.
My heart is crammed up in my throat and all I can do is squeeze her tight, try to absorb the perfection of her.
“Is that a yes?” she breathes.
“Yes,” I growl, taking the rings out of her hands and setting them on the kitchen table, before finding her mouth with my own. Giving her a hard, slanting kiss while hefting her up, so she can lock her legs around my waist. “I can’t believe you did all this.”
“It was my turn.” Her eyes are almost dreamlike as she looks at me, her fingers busy in my hair. “And I wanted to. I want to do everything and be everything to you. The way you’ve been for me.”
“I love you. Being everything to you is my life’s work, princess. I crave it.”
I set her backside down on the kitchen table, upsetting the cutlery when I punch my hips forward into the juncture of her thighs, memorizing the sound of her moan. “It doesn’t feel like you’re mad at me,” she says in a choked voice.
“No, Jessie. I could never be. I was coming to find you. To remind you nothing will get rid of me. Nothing will make me any less—”
“Obsessed with me?”
“That’s right.” I lick into her mouth for a kiss, but when she tries to respond in kind, I bite her lower lip, making her whimper. “I hope you’re ready for everything that comes with being married to the man you’ve driven insane.”
