Forever With You (Silver State Series)

by Renae Kelleigh

  He laughs harshly. “Because you drive me up the fucking wall, and I can’t ever stop thinking about you, that’s why. You wanna talk about playing games? Let’s talk about the games you’ve been playing, Tawny.” The angry way he spits out my name grates on my ears.

  What is he talking about? What games have I been playing?

  Clearly this conversation isn’t getting us anywhere. Instead of asking any questions, I plant my feet up on the mattress and buck my hips beneath him, grinding my pelvis into his. I reach behind my back to unclasp my bra and let it slip down off my shoulders before encircling his neck with my arms – then I crash my lips against his mouth. At first he reciprocates, spreading his fingers across my bare back and holding me against him, but then his lips still, and it feels like I’m kissing a stone statue.

  “Do you want me, Kyle?” I ask, not bothering to conceal my desperation.

  “Of course I want you,” he snarls before lowering his voice to an angry whisper. “I wanna fuck you so bad.” He drops his forehead to lean against my shoulder and lets out a ragged, defeated sigh. “I just can’t.”

  “Why not?” I whimper, on the verge of tears. I struggle against the feeling of being smothered as I absorb his despair and feel it sinking into my bones, becoming a part of me. I’ve never felt so frantic to have him touch me and to feel him inside of me – in this moment, it’s the only thing that seems right.

  Suddenly Kyle shoves off of me and scoots away to the edge of the bed. “Why is it my cock is good enough for you, but I’m not?” he says, his voice choked with emotion. “You’ll let me fuck you now, but then you’ll go back to ignoring my fucking calls tomorrow.”

  I scramble to the edge of the mattress to fold him in my arms, but he doesn’t yield or respond in any way as I attempt to hold him. “That’s not true!” I cry. “Kyle, please!” Tears bud in the corners of my eyes, blurring my vision before spilling down my cheeks.

  Kyle – Saturday, 7:45 PM

  A jolt of electricity rocks through me listening to her beg. I suck a breath in through my gritted teeth. I’m so mad – and so fucking turned on. God, it isn’t fair – why does it have to be this way? Why do I have to want her so goddamn much?

  When a single fat teardrop squeezes out and drops onto my pant leg, I grind the heels of my hands into my eyes in an effort to physically quell any additional tears. I think I’ve only cried twice in my entire life, and I’m not about to make it a third.

  As I sit there with Tawny curled around me, feeling her warm skin pressed against mine, I feel my body begin to relax. Then she pulls away from me and the cold seeps in, prickling my skin. I resist the urge to look back; honestly I expected her to leave me anyway. Then I hear a zipper and the rustling of cloth, and a moment later I can feel her standing in front of me, her hand forming to the side of my face. I open my eyes, but I don’t dare look up. All I can see as I cast my gaze downward is her bare feet and legs. Slowly I bring my arms up and find her naked hips and her waist. I wrap my arms around her, breathing her in as I pull her up against me and lay the side of my face against her stomach.

  For months I’ve hated myself because I thought Tawny made me feel weak. She was like an addiction, and even as I longed for her I couldn’t help but feel I was somehow fundamentally flawed for allowing myself to need someone that much.

  As I sit here now, holding her, something in my psyche begins to shift. Suddenly I don’t feel weak anymore – instead, I feel stronger. Knowing beyond a shadow of a doubt the extent of the raw strength that lives inside the girl in my arms, I can’t help but feel propped up by it. When I finally lift my face to look up at her and see the pure emotion radiating from her, I think I’ve never seen so much passion coming from one person – and for now, for this briefest of moments, that passion is directed at me.

  I’ve dwelled on my addiction nearly every day since the day Tawny walked away from me for the last time, but it wasn’t till now I fully realized how good we could be together. Christ, what have I done? I think. How much time have I wasted by not fighting for her?

  I cling to her as I glide my hands up to clutch at her face and pull her down on top of me. I’ll give in to this one final weakness, knowing and understanding that if this is the last time, it’ll hurt like hell tomorrow. Knowing that for once, it’s a risk I’m willing to take.

  Tawny – Saturday, 8:00 PM

  The anguished fervor of Kyle’s kisses causes my heart to soar and break in unison. He nuzzles into me, the bridge of his nose nudging against the tender skin of my neck and jaw, holding my body close like it’s our last night on earth. The fact he’s no longer fighting me is both wonderful and disorienting.

  Pushing through my bewilderment at his sudden shift in behavior, I bend one leg to plant my knee on the mattress and begin to straddle him. Kyle wraps his hands around the backs of my thighs and pulls me against his chest. I feel him pause and drop one of his hands; when I look down in question he brings his hand back up from his crotch to settle at my waist. “Sorry,” he whispers. “Just needed to adjust.”

  His statement serves as a subtle reminder that only one of us is naked. I ease back off of him and crouch down to unfasten his pants. He lifts his butt, and a throaty moan rumbles up from his chest as I shuck off his pants and underwear in a single motion. Clearly he’s ready for me – his erection arcs upward as its tip is freed from the confines of his boxers. For a moment I can only stare down at his statuesque perfection and the faint line circling his waist that separates the light tan of his pelvic region from the deep bronze of his cut stomach.

  He sits up, his eyes lit with wild abandon. “Why’d you stop?” he asks cautiously. I wonder if he’s afraid I’ll change my mind.

  I shake my head, choosing not to answer as I lower myself back on top of him. As his hands glide over the contours of my hips and breasts, his words replay in my mind – Why don’t you want to be with me? I can’t ever stop thinking about you… His questions as well as his declarations had hinted at an underlying vulnerability I’d rarely been privy to until now. There have been times over the past several months, namely when talking to Rhiannon or Harumi, when I’ve suspected I may not have all the facts when it comes to Kyle Freeman – but nothing underscores the legitimacy of that suspicion like hearing these words straight from the man himself.

  The more I think about it, the more I begin to panic and the more urgently I feel the need to cling to him. It’s like I’m trapped in a small, windowless room, and the four walls are closing in on me, threatening to swallow me up until there’s nothing left. For the first time in months I dare to think, What if it’s all my fault? And what if I’ve missed my chance to make it right? Maybe that’s why he’s holding onto me as if it’s his last chance to do so – maybe it’s because he’s already decided it will be his last chance.

  Another sob wrestles free of my throat as I fall forward and our bodies collide. Kyle slides his tongue along the ridge of my shoulder and up my neck, then rains kisses over my breastbone and nips at the hollow at the base of my throat. We move in concert over and against one other, and while I’m acutely aware of his proximity to the tingling warmth between my legs, we seem to have tacitly agreed to refrain from rushing it.

  As I bask in the thrill of his touch, slowly I begin to come apart. Silent tears stream down my cheeks as I grip at his arms and the back of his neck and drag my fingernails up the smooth skin of his back while brushing my lips over his shoulders and the outside of his ear. When Kyle finally slips inside of me, I can tell from his sharp intake of breath it wasn’t on purpose. I’m rendered momentarily breathless as a sensation that’s equal parts exultation and physical discomfort filters through me.

  Kyle pulls out, but not all the way. He pauses before thrusting gently back into me; it’s with this second push he looks down at my face, and his expression is transformed with grief and worry. “Why are you crying?” he asks as he stills inside me. “Am I hurting you?” Another crop of tears brims in my eyes and cau
ses haloes to form around every pinpoint of light as he gazes down at me tenderly.

  “No,” I reply, my voice scarcely more than a hoarse whisper. “Please don’t stop.”

  He moves into me again but drops his head to kiss my face, expunging the tears with each gentle caress of his lips. A moment later Kyle slows to a stop and drops a whisper into my ear: “I need to see you.”

  He deftly switches our positions before I can even fully comprehend the implications of his statement. I wish I could have back a fraction of the moxie I was graced with earlier in our relationship – suddenly it seems difficult to believe I could ever have been so comfortable being on display the way I am now. Fleetingly lost in my bashful insecurity, I hug my arms over my chest as I raise and lower myself over Kyle’s lap.

  Suddenly he bolts up into a sitting position and presses his chest against mine while circling my forearms with his long fingers. As he gently tugs, I slowly begin to release my hold. “Don’t cover up,” he murmurs. “You’re so beautiful.” He places a soft kiss on the inside of my wrist as I finally let go, then rolls his spine back down against the mattress.

  His words are a salve that infuses me with the courage and confidence I need to go on. I drop my hands and lay them against his heaving bare chest, then roll my hips, feeling my way forward as I rock into him. I’m spurred on by Kyle’s expression, which is taut with intensity as his gaze alternates between my face and our point of connection. When he arches off the mattress and throws his head back, I can tell he’s rapidly approaching his orgasm; seeing it written there in his features and the posturing of his sculpted body causes me to flail along beside him until we both break.

  Kyle – Saturday, 8:30 PM

  I continue to lie flat on my back as Tawny rolls off me, separating her body from mine. She lies apart from me – I can feel her there, but I can’t see whether she looks happy or sad. I’m too afraid to look, so I stare up at the ceiling instead, working my jaw as I mull over what to say, how to begin. There’s so much to be said.

  I feel her shift beside me, and I know my time is up. I can’t just keep lying here without looking at her, or she’ll think I don’t care, even though nothing could be further from the truth. The trouble is, I care too much. I feel like I’m on the brink of losing everything – or maybe I already have.

  I hear her sniffle at the same time she rolls away from me, and knowing I’m responsible for making her cry yet again galvanizes me into action. I turn onto my side and press the front of my body against the back of hers, then lift the sheet to cover us. She tenses as I surround her with my arms; I can feel the vibrations from her trembling ripple along every plane of my body. She seems filled with such profound sorrow, and it makes me hate myself, especially if her tears are an indication she regrets what just happened.

  I press my lips against the back of her shoulder before speaking. “Tawny,” I begin, my voice a deep but quiet rumble. I scoot nearer to her, closing every miniscule fissure that existed between us. “I’m so sorry.” I squeeze my eyes shut as liquid pressure builds behind them, bristling against the painful memories of every wrong turn I’ve taken since the moment I laid eyes on her in Winnemucca last July.

  Maybe it’s just my imagination, but her shaking seems to abate as I whisper in her ear. Drawing strength from her stillness, I continue. “I should’ve told you months ago how I feel about you. I should’ve made it plain from the second you walked over to our table at Frank’s how it felt to see you again, and after that I should’ve made you understand how I couldn’t stop thinking about you. That day at the barn… You believed in me enough to be with me, and I was so damn honored that you would give me your trust.” My voice breaks, and Tawny emits a muffled sob. I wrestle her closer to my chest, locking my arms around her tightly so she’ll know it’s different this time, because this time I’m fighting to keep her near; my lips move against her skin.

  “I should’ve told you how everything changed for me, sweet girl. The way you were with me after everything with Donna, then the way you went to her and gave her your friendship… Do you understand that I’ve never known anyone with a heart that big? Huh? Do you?” Her face is pressed into my arms, and I can feel her silent tears trickling down my skin.

  “When I saw you in Mexico, that was it for me. When that asshole touched you and you didn’t want to be touched – I could never explain the way that made me feel, Tawny. And knowing you’d let me…” I choke back a tidal wave of sadness as a single tear drops from the corner of my eye and splashes against the bare skin of her shoulder. “I don’t know what the hell I did to deserve your trust. All I know is I abused it, and that’s on me. You were all I could see, Tawny. You’re the only thing I see.”

  I lie there holding her for an eternity while my heart pounds and my chest aches. There. I said it. Better late than never.

  Tawny – Saturday, 8:45 PM

  After pulling out of me, Kyle had just lain there, not touching me, not looking at me. I’d been racked with misery over my foolishness and naiveté for believing it might hold some meaning.

  But then – then he started to talk. And every word he spoke was a fulfillment of all I’d wished for but didn’t dare expect. Now I know we’ll be okay – better than okay. Kyle doesn’t know that yet, though. All that’s left is for me to tell him.

  I allow my breathing to return to normal before attempting to speak. Hastily thumbing away the tears that drip down my cheeks, I twist within the confines of Kyle’s strong arms to face him. I’m shocked when I see his eyes are crowded with unshed tears; he’s biting down on the corner of his lower lip, searching my face for some sign of what’s to come.

  My eyes scroll from his eyes to his lips, and I lean in to give him a chaste kiss. As soon as my lips are on his, however, a groan swells in Kyle’s chest, and he breathes his relief. He rolls backward slightly, bringing me with him. I lie across him as our mouths move in concert, and Kyle tangles one hand in my hair while using the other to clutch at my hip.

  When I break away a moment later, I hover inches above him, eager to erase any doubts that may remain. “I never thought I was too good for you, Kyle. I’ve wanted you since the seventh grade – still do.” His mouth lifts into a cautious grin, and it warms my heart and pushes me to carry on. “I pulled away from you to protect myself, because everything changed for me after that day at the barn, even though I tried really hard not to let it. And I only fell farther every time I saw you. I didn’t think you’d want me to be your girlfriend, since I know I’m not really your type –“

  Suddenly his finger is pressed against my lips, silencing me. A fire dances in his eyes as his lips curl in a devilish smirk. “You are exactly my type, Tawny Read. Forget whatever it was you were about to say. I’m not interested in who you think you are – I’m interested in who you are. Get it?”

  I respond with a smile and a shrug. “Yeah, okay.”

  Sunday, 8:30 AM

  Kyle and I stayed up till long after the hooting and applause died down in the living room and the crowd seemed to disperse. I’d sent text messages to Beatrix and Harumi letting them know to go on without me, and thankfully we weren’t bothered for the remainder of the night.

  We discussed our fears and all that’s held us back. Kyle talked a little about his mom – essentially, even though he’d had a strong, loving relationship modeled for him by his grandparents, he’d been unable to let go of his botched relationship with his mother, and it had filtered through his psyche and manifested as a general distrust of women. “It’s not an excuse,” he’d said, “but at least it sort of explains my fucked up view of the world.”

  When I wake up next to Kyle, I feel more rested and peaceful than I have in months. He stirs awake as I stretch beside him and begins feathering kisses over my lips and face and neck. It pains me greatly to have to eventually pull away.

  “I should go,” I tell him as he nips at my ear with his lips and teeth.

  He grudgingly agrees as I stand up out of
bed and begin to dress in the same clothes I wore last night. Once we’re both fully clothed and ready to walk out the door, Kyle places his hand against the small of my back to guide me down the hallway. We only make it as far as the bedroom door, however, when he drops his hand and says, “Oh, wait. I almost forgot – there’s something I’ve been meaning to give you.”

  I watch as he digs in one of his desk drawers and comes back a moment later with a small blue plastic rectangle. I catch a closer glimpse before he presses it into the palm of my hand and curls my fingers around it; I’m taken aback when I recognize it as a memory card and my mind rushes immediately back to the night I’d suggested we record ourselves having sex. My cheeks flame as I tighten my fist around the card and glance back up at Kyle.

  “You should have it,” he says. “Do whatever you want with it, okay?”

  I loosen my grip and turn it over in my hand. “Have you, um…done anything with it since…”

  “I haven’t given it out or shown it to anybody, if that’s what you mean,” he replies, covering my hand with his own. Something flickers in his eyes, and a grin tugs at his mouth. Leaning closer to my ear he says, “I watched it once by myself.” The huskiness in his voice causes me to shiver, which makes him chuckle. Stepping in front of me, he wraps his arms around my waist and interlocks his fingers behind me. “You’re amazing,” he whispers before capturing my lips with his.

  We hold hands as we walk out to his Jeep, which I find to be strangely thrilling – it’s funny how such a small token of affection can take on such great significance. Once we’re fastened into our seats, Kyle slides on his sunglasses and shoots me a debonair smile that causes my heart to stutter. He yanks the gearshift and places his hand on the back of my seat, then turns to check the rear windshield before reversing down the driveway.

  “So, Tawny,” he says as he spins the wheel around with the butt of his hand. “Whaddya say we make this official? – Will you be my girl?”