Anyone but Him

by Cassie Graham

  “Mm hmm.” I close my eyes.

  “Look at me, Whit.”

  Slowly, I open my them.

  “Hi,” he breathes.

  I smile, pushing the bit of hair that’s fallen on his forehead back. “Hi.”

  “I very desperately want to kiss you.”

  My mouth forms into a line. “And that’s bad because…?”

  He takes a deep intake of air into his lungs and looks at me. I mean—really looks at me. Deep into my being. “Because I’m afraid if I do, I won’t be able to stop.”

  I elevate my body and collapse onto his chest. “Then, don’t.” If anything is like his previous kisses, I’m in for a passionate road ahead.

  His hand reaches behind my head and I watch in slow motion as his beautiful face moves toward mine. The moment our lips touch, all of my other senses go haywire, feeling everything. Pleasure, need, hunger…want. So much want. I want everything he has to offer. In this moment, I don’t care what the future holds. I don’t care if he finds out about my shattered past and hates it. In this instant, I only care about him and the feelings he’s unleashing in and on my body.

  His grip on my hair tightens as the kiss deepens and we moan together, feeling the pleasure pouring from our bodies. His lips are sweet at first. Restrained and guarded. Almost as if he’s willing himself to slow down. But, I don’t want him controlled. I want him wild. I want him like the rain pours down. Taking no prisoners. The rain doesn’t care who it drenches; it just comes down, down, down. Soaking you. I want him forceful and firm, taking me how he wants, just like the rain.

  The thought of stopping makes me physically ill. This moment, being with him, in his warm, comforting embrace might be the most beautiful moment of my life. It’s heated and perfect. Stopping isn’t an option.

  My hands move down his torso, taut and hard. His muscles move and bend under my touch and I feel myself growing wet as every second passes. The swirl of his tongue sends me high and I bite his bottom lip.

  “I don’t think I’ve wanted anything or anyone as much as I want you, my Pretty Girl,” he hums in between kissing up and down my neck. “Nothing is as good as being with you. You have me soaring.”

  He doesn’t have much time to say anything else before I’m pulling him up by his shirt, lifting it up and over his head. He grabs at my blouse, unbuttoning every button with detailed precision. When he opens my shirt, he simply stares, eyes electric. He puts his hand in between my breasts and just touches—feels.

  “Come to bed with me. As much as I want you. Here. Now, I’ve gotta have you in bed. Slowly.”

  I nod my head, unable to form any coherent words. It’s almost as if the hand that’s resting on my chest is somehow digging into my body, willing my heart to beat violently. He’s able to control me.

  I wonder if I do the same.

  I gently move off of his body and stand, watching him swing his legs off the couch. His body lifts and like a peacock, he looks big and alarming. Proud.

  Grabbing my hand, he leads me up the stairs, stopping halfway to pin me against the wall to thoroughly kiss me.

  Hauling me to his room, he opens the door, turns on a small light on his nightstand and the cool air whooshes against my face. The blindingly white down blanket shines bright, but the dark, patterned pillows offset the brightness of the covers.

  “Christ, you’re beautiful.”

  I smile coyly up at him as my knees hit the back of the bed. Putting my hands on his jeans, I gently unzip them. Pushing them down, his “talk show host” blue boxer briefs showcase what’s hidden inside. Like opening a present on Christmas, I peel them off, watching my hands as they slide down his legs. His pronounced hipbones move as he sways side-to-side on his feet. He’s either, naturally tan, or he tans in the nude because there isn’t a tan line in sight. Golden bronze, like light brown sugar, his skin glistens with the slightest of sweat and I flick my tongue, taking a little taste.

  His hard, ridgid cock twitches and I can’t keep my hands from taking hold. Perfectly sculpted, long length, and thick bulk, this view alone is more than enough to soak my jeans. I’ve never seen something so flawless.

  “You’re taunting me, woman,” Jennings grunts, his eyes rolled back.

  “I am?” I question, modest.

  Grabbing the base of his dick, I dampen my lips and take him in my mouth. The taste, the smell, the feel of him is an intoxicating, heady combination. It’s not anything I’ve ever encountered before. And in no time, I find myself growing more and more needy, taking him in and out greedily.

  “Whit,” he groans out. “Stop.”

  I pull back and look up at him through my lashes. He smiles at me, pleased and combs his hand through my hair.

  “You’re going to ruin me, Pretty Girl,” he says as he falls to his knees, unfastening my jeans. “Every part of you calls to me. Every tiny inch begs to be touched, kissed…fucked. All of it. All of it is mine.”

  My head falls back and I close my eyes. His words send shivers from the inside out of my body and I don’t think I can take much more torture. “Mhmm,” I agree.

  Peeling my skinny jeans from my legs, I kick them off and let him look at me unabashedly.

  “God…” He brings his nose to my center and inhales. I have to stop myself from retreating. I’m no virgin, but no one has worshiped my body the way Jennings is. For as shy as I’m feeling, I’m also feeling bold. Brave.

  Hooking his fingers in the side of my underwear, he drags them down my thighs, over my calves, and down to my feet. Stepping out of them, I look down. In all of his naked perfection, he smiles one of the most sincere smiles I’ve ever seen a man give. Adoration. Respect. This man—on his knees in front of me looks to me as if the sun shines in my eyes.

  He kisses the inside of my thigh and my insides achingly clench. Letting my hand fall to the back of his head, he kisses the other and nibbles just a bit, making me squirm.

  Lifting one leg at a time, he stands and tenderly grips my upper body, nipping and sucking my neck. His light breath blows on my earlobe and I move my neck to the side so he can have better access.

  “I’ve thought about doing this for weeks now,” he admits, moving his hands up my back to the clasp on my bra. One-by-one, he unhooks the clips and the red lace falls to a puddle on the ground. “You have the most beautiful breasts I’ve ever seen,” he says, taking both hands and cupping them.

  My D-cup has always been a hassle if anything, but now that I know Jennings likes them, I’m sort of thanking mom for the gigantic-boob gene.

  “Even better than Mona Peterman’s?” I ask. She’s a porn-star looking woman he filmed with years ago.

  His hands tremble in the slightest as he pulls at my waist. “Gross. Can we keep other names out of our bedroom, please?” Jennings asks, laughing softly, now kissing up and down my belly. “You only ever think of me, understand?”

  Moving one of his hands to my spine, he contours it, up and down. While he’s gently massaging my back, his head drops to one of my breasts and they pucker. The thought of his hot, needy mouth on my nipple makes desire pool in my belly.

  Want.

  Want.

  The second his mouth connects with my furrowed breast, I let out a croaked gasp. His tongue moves and swirls in a glorious motion. Tugging and pulling, he moves to the other and gives it the same magnificent torture.

  Jennings stands, his naked chest and inches upon inches of stunning skin glowing in the dim room. The rain slaps and crashes against the window, making a soundtrack for us.

  Never in all of my years of being with men have I had sex in the daylight. It’s always after a long night of partying when we come home to a pitch-black house where I can hide behind the veil of darkness. It’s easier being with someone when you don’t really have to look at him.

  But, here I am. In the middle of the day, watching Jennings adore every flaw of my body. He’s only felt my back, and I’m not sure what his reaction will be when he actually sees it.
The scars that adorn my skin are the ugliest things about me. The burns and marks that he put there will never go away. I’ve had to live with his subtle reminders of my time with him everyday, and I don’t think now—or any time soon is the right time for Jennings to hear about my past. It still hurts my heart to think about it. I don’t want to ruin his image of me. Besides the nasty things I left in Kansas, Jennings knows a good portion of my life. More than anyone else knows. I don’t want to taint what we have.

  “Whit,” he breathes. “Lie back.”

  Falling into the plush, white bed, the comforter hugging my body, I spread my legs wide. Letting his eyes drop to my core, he looks manic. Frenzied. Hypnotized.

  Settling himself between my legs, I hear the crinkle of a wrapper and watch him as he slides the thin latex over himself.

  His fingers move to where I want him most and he moves in slow, luxurious circles, making me spiral higher. Tightening around his fingers, he gently pulls them out and replaces them with himself.

  And, oh…oh my…that’s wonderful.

  “You okay?” he asks, strained above me. He’s millimeters from sliding into me and from the look of the expression on his face he’s taking great strides not to plunge deep.

  “Yes.” I nod, pushing my hips up, trying to meet him.

  “I want this. I want this so fucking much, but before we make this happen, I need to know you want it, too,” he gasps as he inches little by little into me.

  Tightening around him, I grasp his hips with my legs and pull him forward. “I want this.”

  He exhales as he sinks into me, stilling as our bodies meet. He looks to me, asking permission and I nod, again. There isn’t a chance in hell I’d stop him.

  Every sound, every grunt, every moan that escapes his mouth is amplified in my ears and I find myself mirroring his actions.

  His hair brushes against my face as he looks down at where we’re connected, watching himself move in and out of me. Entranced, I put my finger under his chin and lift his head.

  “Hi,” I smile.

  His radiant grin breaks through his fierce concentration. “Hi, beautiful.”

  The feel of him inside of me is euphoric and I have to close my eyes and sigh.

  My muscles tense and constrict and I think I’m close when he slows down again, circling his hips, drawing out our time together. If I had it my way, we’d never leave. We’d stay like this forever. I’ve never felt such a connection with someone as I do in this moment with Jennings. He’s touching deep inside me and I didn’t know anyone could get past the barriers I put up.

  I shift my lower half and he mimics my movements, now moving in a long, fluid effort, in and out of me. Bringing his face to my neck, he sucks and bites as I claw my hands down his back to his ass. Kneading and massaging, he pulses and I have to close my eyes tight. The sensations are starting to overtake my body and I so badly want this to last.

  Whispering dirty—all be it, hot things in my ear, I fear of jumping off into nothingness. Oblivion. He’s about to skyrocket me into the stars and I don’t want to. I want this to go on endlessly.

  “What is it?” Jennings asks, breaking my concentration.

  I open my eyes to find him watching me with a strained, concerned expression. He hasn’t stopped moving, and I anchor hands to his upper arms.

  “I’m soaring, Jennings.”

  It’s accurate. Insanely true.

  “To the stars,” he says and I wonder if he can read my mind. “Go with me, Pretty Girl.” He pumps harder, rougher and I meet him thrust for thrust. “Fly with me.”

  Twisting his hand in my hair, he glides his other hand down my chest toward my navel and goose bumps rise on my skin. When his finger connects with my clit, I detonate. My being rises steeply into the sky and I hover, letting the sensations overtake me.

  Jennings pushes in one last definitive time and I fear he’s somehow folded in half inside me. It’s so deep and connecting. He curses under his breath and breathes my name as he catches up to me in the sky. Floating with the galaxies, we linger together, not coming down.

  “YOU ABSOLUTELY HAVE TO LEAVE?” Whit asks as I drive her back to her house, looking so damn cute with her hair up in a knot on top of her head. Her big, cat-eye glasses hang on her nose and she pushes them up.

  As much as it pains me to lie to her, I can’t “stay.” This weekend has been one for the books, and not just because of the mind-blowing sex we had.

  Five times.

  “I’m sorry, Whit.”

  Placing her hand on my leg, she squeezes, so comfortable with touching me. “Don’t be. I know it’s your job. Doesn’t mean I have to be happy about it.”

  I laugh, turning into her driveway. “I’m not happy about it either, if that helps.”

  She unbuckles. “It doesn’t. How long will you be gone?”

  Honestly, I don’t know how long I have to put up this façade. “A month…maybe two.”

  “Ugh,” she groans.

  “I know, Pretty Girl. But, I’ll be back. How about we go somewhere on one of my weekends off?”

  “Like, somewhere in Cali?”

  I scoff. “No, dork,” I say and she narrows her eyes at me, making me titter. “Let’s go somewhere fun. Somewhere other than Cali.”

  “Yeah, let me know when that actually can happen.”

  “I’m serious.”

  “Sure,” she jests, yanking my chain.

  We exit the car and I walk to her side. With her small frame, I tower over her. She fits perfectly under my arm, so when I approach her, she has to strain her neck to look up at me. “Listen to me,” I implore. “I want this to work.”

  She deflates. “Me too.”

  Wrapping my arms around her, I bring her close, letting her hear the beat of my heart.

  “Good. Then, let’s make it work. No bullshit.”

  “No bullshit,” she repeats.

  “I promise that when I say something I mean it. I won’t lead you on, and I want you to do the same. If this relationship gets to be too much, you can get out.” I don’t expect her to stay if she isn’t happy. She’s the first girl who I can see myself actually wanting to be with and I refuse to have her unhappy in the process.

  “Okay. And, I promise to let you know how I’m feeling. If I’m overwhelmed, I’ll tell you. No secrets.”

  No secrets? No more secrets, I can handle.

  “No secrets.” I kiss her head and set my chin down. “I’m going to miss you, you know.”

  “Me too. Ass.”

  I pull back, grinning. “Ass?”

  “Yeah,” she mocks smacking me. “You had to come along being all chivalrous and thoughtful. It’s just not fair to me or anyone in your vicinity.”

  “I’ll try to keep it under control.”

  “You better. No intentional making out with your co-star.” She points to my chest.

  I clutch her face in my hands, whispering against her lips, “Like this?”

  Taken aback, Whit clings to my shirt and opens her mouth, letting me explore for the last time for who knows how long.

  I meant what I said. I want to take her somewhere where we can be just us. But, how that can happen, I have no idea. I’m a prick for wanting it and an even bigger prick for actually trying to make it happen. The gears in my brain are already working overtime so I can find some time for us.

  We break apart, and Whitley’s eyes flutter open, her lips slightly red from my scruff.

  “See you soon, okay?”

  Her mouth thins, and she looks up to the sky. “Okay.”

  “I’ll call you. Don’t worry.”

  Her sad expression vanishes and she shoves me. “I’m not worried. You being gone makes it easier to walk around without crazies following me.”

  “Hey! Not my fault, Pretty Girl. I’m fascinating.”

  “Totally,” she deadpans. “Now, shut up and get out of here.”

  “Yes, ma’am.”

  She opens the back door of the Musta
ng and retrieves her bag. Lugging it over her shoulder, she pushes her glasses up her nose and nods. “Okay. Stay safe.”

  “I will. I might even take up meditating before the flight like Holli does.”

  Whitley chuckles. “It works for her, it might work for you too.”

  Taking her hand, I walk back around to the driver’s side and step inside. Whitley insisted that I not walk her to the door to say goodbye because she knew the cameras could see us. Which, in turn meant Holli could see. Evidently, she likes to check the cameras every once in a while and it creeps Whit out to know Holli could spy on our intimate moments.

  Not that I blame her.

  Whitley leans on the open window and pokes her head in, giving me one last peck on the cheek.

  “Go. Kick ass and all that,” she smiles.

  “I’ll try.”

  I start the engine and shift the car into reverse. Whitley steps back away from the door and lifts her hand, giving me a wave. I return her gesture and pull out, watching her in the rearview mirror as I drive further and further away from a really good thing.

  “So, you’re tellin’ me that you can’t?”

  I slip my driver back into my golf bag with force and turn to look at Bradley. I level my eyes and put my hands on my hips. “I can’t.”

  “Why the fuck not?” he tests as he stabs the tee in the ground.

  “Because, dick, I just can’t. I don’t want to ruin what I’ve got going with her.”

  “Jennings, dude—dick.” He gives me a pointed look. “You’re basically shooting yourself in the foot.”

  “I know I am, alright?” I whisper-shout, hoping to not gain the attention of the cart-girl driving by.

  “She’s going to figure it out, you know that.”

  Of course I know. And when it happens, I’ll be the biggest asshole on the planet. I’ll lose a friend and a great girlfriend. Whit isn’t about labels. If I asked her to be my girlfriend, she’d probably kick me in the sack, but she’s the closest thing I’ve had to a decent relationship since I left Alabama. I want to ride this roller coaster for as long as humanly possible.

  “I know.” I look down at my cleats.

  The whoosh of Bradley’s swing buzzes and I watch as the ball sails through the air. When it bounces and lands on the light green grass of the fairway, he turns toward me, his expression morose.