by R. C. Martin
“Honey, I’m okay. I’m okay,” I whimper past the knot in my throat, reaching up to hold either side of his face.
“You’re not. Shit, baby—”
“Coder,” I whisper, lifting my head until my mouth touches his. “Honey, kiss me. I’m okay. You didn’t hurt me. Just kiss me.”
“Mack—”
He starts to argue, but I plunge my tongue into his mouth, silencing him as I take what I want. It takes him just as long to stop fighting me as it takes me to get control of my emotions. When I’m sure that I can speak without crying, I pull away from his kiss and circle my legs around his backside.
“That was so beautiful,” I murmur.
“I fucking hurt you,” he retorts with a scowl.
“Honey—it hurt, we both knew it would—but seeing you—watching you enjoy my body the way that you just did?” I smile at him, holding up my arm as I feel my skin break out in yet another layer of goose pimples. “Look.”
“Baby—”
My smile fads as I raise my fingers and press them against his lips. “Don’t. Don’t do that,” I demand.
He quirks an eyebrow up in amused surprise, moving my hand before he asks, “Do what?”
“Ruin it. It was amazing, Coder, because you’re amazing—because I love you so much—because I wouldn’t want to share this moment with anyone else—because—”
This time he cuts me off with a kiss. It’s gentle and sweet, and I wrap my arms around his neck as he loves on me just the way that I like. When he pulls away a moment later, his lips still grazing mine, he rumbles, “I got it, baby.”
“Good,” I reply, smiling against his mouth.
“I love you so fucking hard.” My legs and arms tighten around him as my insides go completely squishy, and my smile widens. Then he goes on to say, “I promise you one thing, babe—you haven’t seen amazing, but you will. I’ll take you there. Over and over and over again.”
“Yeah?” I giggle.
“I promise.”
“You know my deal about—”
“I’ll fight to keep it,” he grunts before pressing a hard kiss against my lips.
I hum into his mouth, then he sweeps his tongue through mine, and I know he means every word.
Coder and I both moan in irritation when the alarm on my phone sounds. As I start to crawl over him to find it and turn it off, he holds me captive against his chest, peeking open one eye as he grumbles, “You leave this bed, you come right back. Get me?”
Raking my fingers through my hair, tossing it down my back, I kiss his lips before I remind him, “I’ve got class.”
“Play hooky,” he mutters. “Just this once. Just one class.”
I bite my lip as he skims his hand down my naked side. When he reaches my hip, he grazes his fingers over my bottom before he gives me a generous squeeze.
“Coder,” I whisper, my resolve already wavering.
“I’ve got a promise to make good on, babe. You leave this bed, you come right back. Get me?”
The beeping of my alarm fades away as my mind concentrates, trying to recall what’s on the syllabus for my first class today. Just when I start to think I don’t care what I’ll miss, so long as Coder is inside of me again, my memory kicks in. A shy grin spreads across my face when I remember that this week is mid-terms, and my test for this class isn’t until Wednesday, which means today will be nothing but study guide review—review for a study guide that I had finished a week ago. Confident that I’ll be just fine with a little more studying on my own, my cheeks heat in a blush as I agree with a nod.
Chuckling victoriously, Coder smacks my butt cheek and then rolls us over, pinning me beneath him. He kisses the space just beside my ear before he mutters, “Change of plans. You stay, I’ll go.”
When he climbs out of bed, completely naked, my eyes scan the length of him from head to toe—admiring his strong, lean build. I watch as he looks around for my purse, then he digs out my beeping device and silences it before dropping it back in my bag. He grabs a condom on his way back to the bed, and as soon as he slips underneath the sheets, he gathers me in his arms, holding me flush against him.
He doesn’t kiss me right away, like I thought he might. Rather, he reaches up and buries his fingers in my hair, sweeping his thumb back and forth across my cheek as he stares at me. My heart does a double thump before taking a dive, and I fall in love with him a little bit more. Leaning into him, I blurt out, “Spring break is next week.”
“Yeah?” he asks with a smirk. “You got plans?”
“Well, I was just going to head home,” I admit, wrapping an arm around his back. I reach up to grab hold of his shoulder, eliminating even a breath of space between us. My nipples pebble, and I wonder if he feels it as I go on to tell him, “I think maybe I want to stay here with you instead.”
“If I’m supposed to be valiant or some shit, tell you you should go visit your mom and dad because they probably miss you, you’re fucked—‘cause no way in hell am I gonna tell you to go when I want you to stay.”
Grinning, I touch my nose to his and free a giggle. “I want to stay. I want you to want me to stay.”
“Then you stay,” he murmurs, tracing his nose along mine before offering me a light kiss. “At least for a few days. If you want, I could rearrange some things, we could take a ride down on my bike; you can show me home.”
My eyes grow wide in excitement and I pull away from him, just enough to really see his face. “You’d do that? You’d come down to meet my parents?”
“Babe,” he grunts, shaking his head at me as if I’m being absolutely ridiculous.
Laughing, I touch my forehead to his, closing my eyes as I whisper, “I love you.”
“Love you, too, baby,” he mumbles before his lips close around mine.
This time, his kiss isn’t light or sweet. This time, it’s deep and hot. Before I know it, I’m on my back, and his warm, hard body is between my legs.
“How are you feeling, Mack?” he asks, kissing along my neck as he reaches down and cups his hand around my sex. I open my mouth to answer, but he swipes a finger through my wetness, making me forget my words. Smearing my arousal over my clit, he inquires, “Do you hurt, baby?”
“No, honey, I’m good. That feels—mmmm,” I hum as he pushes two fingers inside of me. That’s apparently all the answer he needs. Before I’m ready, he pulls out, then he’s up on his knees, ripping open the condom and sheathing his erection. Much like yesterday, he rubs the head of his dick over my entrance, wetting himself. But instead of pushing in, he rests himself along my seam, rocking his hips back and forth, causing the tip of him to rub against my clit over and over. I feel myself growing wetter, and he brings his mouth back to mine, kissing me thoroughly as he stokes the desire that burns deep within my core.
When he finally enters me, I suck in a deep breath as my body adjusts to him. I feel a little sore, my opening stretching around him, but it doesn’t hurt like it did last night. As he glides in and out of me slowly, he props himself up on his forearms, giving him room to brush his lips against mine while he stares into my eyes. Neither of us speaks, the room draped in the dim light of the early morning sun, the only sounds that can be heard coming from our mouths as we begin to pant for one another.
I’m incapable of a deep breath, too consumed by the warm, blissful feeling he’s causing between my legs as he fills me up. The really, really good feeling I got last night pales in comparison to what I’m feeling now, and all I want is more. Holding onto his biceps, I hitch my knees up around his sides, and he groans loudly as he plunges deeper.
“Coder,” I sigh, sliding my hands up to his shoulders, where I hold on tight. He rolls his hips dramatically, his pelvis grazing my clit, and my legs immediately fall open as I moan, “Honey—that feels—” I gasp when he does it again, making my skin break out into a sweat. I whimper, wanting more—needing more—but not sure what, or how to ask for it.
Taking the initiative, Coder gives me ex
actly what I need, moving to hook his arms underneath my knees. He pushes my legs back and spreads me open, allowing him to go deeper and graze my clit every time he strokes into me. When he starts to move faster, I cry out in pleasure. This is so different than last night, and it feels incredible. Maybe too incredible, and I feel like I’m going to burst.
With a grunt, he drives into me a little harder, brushing my swollen bundle of nerves just right. Arching my back, I reach over my head and grab hold of the pillow, gripping it with all my might. I feel like I need to come, but I’m afraid. It feels so big, I’m not sure if I’m prepared for the sensation, so I seal my eyes closed tight and hold back.
“Eyes, baby,” Coder demands.
“I—I can’t! Oh, honey, I can’t!” I mewl, the pressure inside of me so intense, I feel like I might cry.
“Eyes, babe,” he repeats. “Let go, Mack. Give me you, baby, and come on my cock. Eyes!”
The second my gaze aligns with his, my orgasm barrels through me, and I free an uninhibited cry as my body is wracked with the extent of my pleasure. While I jolt beneath him with my release, Coder’s jaw falls open, his eyelids drooping low as he breathes a curse and then groans through his own climax, right on the heels of mine. When he is spent, he frees my legs before draping his sweaty body on top of mine. He’s heavy, but I’m boneless beneath him, with not an ounce of energy left in me to care.
“Fuck,” he grumbles, lifting up only enough to see my face. “Now that was something close to amazing.”
Raising my eyebrows in awe, I murmur, “That was only close? I thought that was…” I shake my head, unable to conjure up the appropriate words.
Chuckling, he brings his lips to mine before he tells me, “We’ll never reach amazing if you got me in these rubbers. Need you on the pill, babe. It’s just you and me, Mack. We don’t need the third wheel, yeah?”
My cheeks heat in a blush as I think about the way his velvety soft skin feels in my hand or in my mouth, and I know that I want to feel him—only him—against my naked flesh. I make a mental note to call the campus clinic today, and then I offer him a nod. He smirks at me, causing my stomach to clench. Then he leans down and kisses me so well, I miss my second class, too.
The week goes by in a whirlwind of studying, exams, and long shifts at the drug store. Surprisingly enough, I see Brooke and Owen more than I see Coder. They managed to keep their hands off of each other long enough to worry about mid-terms. On the nights they couldn’t resist, they went to Owen’s place, giving me the freedom to sleep in my own bed. Coder and I met up for lunch on Tuesday, but I’m so used to seeing him on a regular basis, I miss him like crazy by Friday morning. I cannot wait for spring break to officially begin. I plan on spending as much time with him as possible—until he’s sick of me and begging for school to start up again.
With the middle of the semester upon me, my guidance counselor has been sending me email reminders that we need to schedule a meeting to talk about enrolling for classes for the fall semester of my junior year. His emails are unnecessary, as I’ve been thinking about my junior year for weeks now, questioning my major and whether or not pre-med is what I’d like to stick with. January had been a really hard month for me, with Timothy’s passing and Sheamus returning to the hospital with a new inoperable tumor. I felt really helpless, more than I’d ever felt before.
Yet, as time goes on, I’ve been questioning my helplessness, wondering if that’s really something to stand on. My dream of helping children and fighting cancer comes with the daunting reality of…reality. I can’t escape it. Now, I’m wondering if occasional helplessness is just an occupational hazard.
After last weekend—which was quite possibly the best weekend of my entire life—I’m beginning to think that my doubts and my hesitation pale in comparison to who I am and what I’ve always wanted. I’ve thought a lot about it, and I really have no idea what I’d do with myself if I wasn’t a doctor. I’ve never seriously considered anything else; and with my parents being who they are, and my brother being who he is, and me being cut from the very same cloth, no one else has suggested any alternatives, either. They’ve always just understood my desire and encouraged it without question.
Nevertheless, I’m smart enough to also acknowledge that there’s a flipside. There’s the fear that I felt when Lena got really sick a few weeks ago. There’s the pain I feel every time one of my kids loses the fight. Sometimes, it’s not just helplessness that I feel, but hopelessness, which feels bigger than grief and more crippling than doubt. I’m smart enough to become a doctor, yes, but am I strong enough to survive the hard days? The days filled with death? Sometimes, I think I was made with a weak spot—like I’m meant to be a doctor, but my Achilles heel is my heart. That is something I don’t know what to do with. That is why I haven’t responded to my guidance counselor. I’m just not ready. My mind is a mess of questions that I don’t have answers to.
Deciding that I’ll meet up with him after break, I leave campus Friday afternoon with the intention of taking the time away from school to really step back and look at my life—picturing what I want it to be like. As I hurry to my car, a smile breaks out across my face, realizing that the question of what or how might be up in the air, but who is definitely decided. I don’t have to imagine who I’d like to share my life with—whatever that life might look like—because I already know.
The entire drive to Generation Ink, I’m practically shaking with anxious anticipation. I didn’t know it was possible to miss someone as much as I miss Coder—for my chest to ache with a longing that feels bottomless after just a few days. It seems to take forever for me to arrive, but when I finally do, my heart is racing so fast, you’d think I’d been without him for years. I’m probably being silly and overdramatic, but I don’t care. For me, this is love, and I don’t hesitate to jump out of my car and race for the front door.
When I enter the shop, Coder is standing behind the front counter with Pete. His head snaps up at the sound of the bell, and when our eyes lock, a slow grin transforms his face. I halt, my heart skipping a beat at the sight. I’m pulled from my dazed state of being as he starts to make his way out from behind the counter. My feet taking orders from my heart, I run toward him, dropping my purse to the ground before I leap into his arms.
He leans down, swooping me up and catching me against his chest, as if he’s done it a million times. My legs wrap around his waist, my ankles locking at his back as one of his arms secures me around my back, his other gripping me from below—the palm of his hand cupping my left butt cheek. I circle my arms around his neck, not bothering to say hello before I lean down and press my lips against his.
He opens his mouth at the same time that I do, and I can’t silence the small hum that spills from my throat as I sigh happily at the feel of his tongue twisting with mine. I missed the taste of him. The smell of him. The feel of him. I missed everything about him, and I tell him as much as I kiss him harder and deeper. I press myself against him tighter, and his hand at my back slides up. He buries his fingers in my hair, gripping my neck, keeping me close.
I forget where we are, and I think nothing of our audience until Pete chuckles, “Damn, Kenzie, didn’t know you had it in you.”
Startled by the sound of his voice, I squeak my surprise and pull away from Coder. When I look over and see Pete watching us with obvious amusement, my cheeks grow hot in sudden embarrassment. Then Coder claps his hand against my bottom, stealing back my attention. He grins at me and mutters, “That’s my girl.”
I don’t know if he’s talking to me or Pete, but I don’t care. As I gaze into his deep, dark, soulful eyes, alight with an expression I’ve only seen pointed at me, all I want to do is kiss him some more. Instead, I touch my forehead to his as I whisper, “Missed you.”
“I gathered that,” he replies, his voice low and rumbly. He kisses me one more time and then taps my leg, signaling for me to let him go. “Want to show you something.”
“’Kay.”
Reluctantly, I slide down his chest until I’m on my feet, then grab my purse from where I left it on the floor. I call out my goodbye to Pete as Coder takes my hand and leads me to his room.
We’re halfway down the hall when Caroline comes running out of Harvey’s door. Her whole face lights up in a grin when she sees us, and to my utter delight, she squeals, “Mack!”
“Oh, my goodness,” I gush as I bend down to scoop her up into my arms. “Hi, Caroline.”
“Shhh,” she hushes. I fight a laugh, given how loud she just called my name, and then she goes on to tell me, “Ax is steew sweeping.”
“Holy shit.” Both Caroline and I look further down the hall at the sound of Trevor’s voice. Not two seconds later, he calls, “Little worm!”
Caroline wiggles in my arms, informing me she’d like to get down. When I set her on her feet, she goes racing toward her father. “Daddy!” she yells. This time, I do laugh, amused that her excitement has caused her to forget about sleeping Axel—again.
“We have to go,” says Trevor, lifting her into his arms as he makes his way out into the hallway. When he sees Coder and me, he smiles and announces, “Savannah’s coming.”
“Wait—now?” asks Coder.
“Daph just called. Her water broke,” he answers as he continues to take his leave.
“Did I just hear you say there’s a baby coming?” Willow yells from her room, the sound of her tattoo gun now silenced.
“Baby!” cries Caroline, throwing her hands up in the air.
Trevor laughs, pressing a kiss against his daughter’s forehead as he murmurs, “That’s right, Care. Sissy’s coming.”
“Keep us in the loop,” Coder tells him before he reaches the front door. “We’ll drop by tonight.”
“You got it.”
We watch as he opens the door with his back, an excited Caroline singing cheerfully in his arms, and then they’re gone. I smile up at Coder, giddy at the thought of a new baby around here. I know I haven’t been a part of the group for very long, but I’ve come to care about each and every one of the Ink crew. They’re Coder’s family, so they’re important to me, too.
