I'll Make You Mine

by Gia Riley

  He stops kissing my stomach and lifts his head. “And what’d you come up with?”

  “Because you accept me as I am. Not everyone would. You’ve always made me feel special, even when you weren’t trying.” The truth pours out of me and I wish it was because of my strength and not because of the confidence that came with the pills.

  “Look at me, Zoe.” He waits until he has my full attention before he leans in and pecks my lips with feather-light kisses. We might be venturing to new territory tonight, but he will always be my best friend first.

  An unspoken understanding passes between us, and when he’s ready, he focuses on my body again. “Think we can finish what we started?” he asks with a silly smile back on his face.

  I’ve never noticed how sexy that smile is. Maybe everything looks better because he’s hovering over me, naked. Or maybe this is his bedroom smile, the one reserved for his most intimate moments. I’d like to think only I’m capable of putting that look on his face.

  “Yes, but let me see you first. You’ve seen all of me.”

  Humoring me, he stands. A million thoughts run through my head, all of which I’d never say aloud.

  Dylan lets me take all the time I need before he asks, “What are you thinking?”

  I stare as he stands with his legs shoulder-width apart. His hands rest on his hips, right where the V cuts into chiseled abdominal muscles, all while his penis salutes me. God bless America. “It’s okay to have an opinion about this?”

  Chuckling, he blushes a little. I don’t see embarrassed Dylan much. “I’m not asking for a critique. I’m asking what you’re thinking while you’re looking at me like that.”

  “It’s not what I was expecting.”

  He pushes me back on the bed, his length brushing against my leg. It’s soft like velvet. “What were you expecting?”

  “I mean, it’s more than I was expecting. I’m bad at this. I’m sorry.”

  “Don’t be sorry. Do you trust me?”

  I nod, my hair collecting more static energy with each brush against the sheets. “I trust you, Dylan. Maybe you figured it out already, but you’re the only guy I trust to do this with.”

  He kisses my forehead, easing my nerves a little more. “Good,” he says. “I don’t want you with anyone else.”

  “Ever?”

  “I’d scare you if I answered that question. But I think you know the answer.”

  I wait for him to continue and when he doesn’t, I hold his face in my hands, forcing him to look at me. “What’s wrong?”

  He shakes off whatever’s bothering him. “You’re sure you’re ready? There’s no going back, Zoe. Once I’m inside you, I’ll always be your first. You don’t get a second chance.”

  “You think I’ll regret it?”

  He kisses my lips again. The added friction of our bodies rubbing against each another makes it that much better. I could lie here all day, kissing him, and never get bored.

  “Never regret us,” is all he says before he moves his lips to my neck and sucks the sensitive flesh below my earlobe.

  I couldn’t regret Dylan if I tried.

  Dylan

  Zoe’s looking at me like I hang the moon above the stars. I’ve wanted to experience that look for as long as I can remember. It gives me hope that she cares about me as much as I care about her.

  I’ve tried so hard to keep our foundation strong, never pushing her before she was ready. Now that she is, I want to show her all the feelings I’ve been hoarding since the day I found her tangled up in that damn volleyball net.

  “Dylan, please,” she begs as I suck on her neck.

  She doesn’t understand what she’s asking for, yet she still wants whatever I can give her. All she cares about is that I’m making her feel good. But when she raises her hips and I come so close to sliding inside of her, I have to slow us down.

  “Hang on, Zo.”

  “No,” she says frustrated. “I don’t want you to stop.”

  “I’m not,” I tell her as I hold her face in my hands. “I need a condom.”

  “Oh.” I try not to, but I laugh at her adorable expression. All laughter ceases when she says, “I have a box in my room if you don’t have any.”

  My girl having condoms in her room, confuses me. Actually, it worries me. “You have an entire box?”

  “Keely made me go to the sex store with her and I bought these fancy ones. But while I was home, I was walking around the bulk food store trying to figure out what to make for Christmas dinner, and they had the biggest boxes I’ve ever seen. I overpaid on the fancy ones, because I priced it out, and saved a ton in bulk.”

  “You bought more?” I ask her, wondering how she paid for them without getting embarrassed.

  “I wasn’t sure if Dad would renew the yearly membership, so I had to make a decision. I bought them.”

  “Who were you planning on using them with?” It’s my stupid way of making sure she’s not interested in anyone else. Nothing about my feelings would change if she was, but I still have to ask, anyway. Because she’s mine.

  “There’s nobody else, Dylan.”

  “Okay. And it’s a full box?”

  “Yeah. Wait, I used one,” she admits.

  “With who?” I’ll track him down and kill him.

  Zoe looks mortified to be having this conversation, but her hesitation only makes this worse. “It doesn’t matter,” she says. “Can we get back to us?”

  “It matters, Zoe. It matters a hell of a lot.”

  She blinks a couple times before saying, “A banana.”

  “A banana? Did you put it up . . .”

  “Ohmigod, no, Dylan. It was nothing like that. I wanted practice putting it on, so I wouldn’t look stupid. In case that’s what I was supposed to do.” She covers her face with her hands and rolls onto her side. “I want to disappear,” she groans.

  Straddling her hips, I pull her hands away from her vulnerable eyes and roll her onto her back. “Don’t be embarrassed. I’m glad you told me.”

  “You are?”

  “Yes. You can talk about anything. I won’t judge you. But I think you should give me the box.”

  “Why?”

  “I don’t think you need a hundred rubbers.”

  “It’s okay,” she says. “I checked the expiration dates. I have plenty of time to use them.”

  I have to bite the inside of my cheek to hold myself back. What I want to tell her is that she’ll use those condoms with me and only me. If we have sex tonight, that means she’s all in. We’re doing this. “Why don’t you go get them?”

  “Now?” she says as she stares at her body. “I’m naked.”

  “Since when do you need clothes to walk across the hall?”

  “Since right now. Since you’re on top of me. And since you can see me if I stand up.”

  “I see you, Zoe. All of you. I feel you, too.”

  She slides out from underneath me and tries wrapping a pillow around herself like a towel before she scurries into the hallway.

  When she comes back, she’s holding a big-ass box. “Where do you want them?”

  “Jesus, you weren’t kidding.”

  “There’s more than a hundred. You low balled.” She giggles. “I said balls.”

  Her laugh is infectious. Nothing about tonight is going like I thought it would. Then again with Zoe, things rarely do. “Do you still want to do this? We don’t have to.”

  “What? Of course I do.” She hops back in bed, shivering when the cool sheets brush against her porcelain skin. “Just tell me how you want me.”

  I’d scare her if I told her all the ways I want her. I could spend hours worshipping her body, showing her how a man pleasures a woman—a woman who deserves to be on a pedestal. “Just relax. I’ll make you feel good.”

  “You already are,” she says, breathlessly.

  “Good. I’ll go slow, baby. I promise.”

  “Ooh,” she says around a moan as I nip at her hip. “I might
like that more than babe. The ‘y’ takes it to a whole other level.”

  “Noted,” I say just before kissing her lips. This time, instead of tangling my tongue with hers, I settle for short, meaningful kisses so she doesn’t lose her breath. And once she’s ready, I cross the fine line of friendship and sprint toward more. When I’m done with her, we’ll be there.

  “Zoe, shit.” The way she grips me is fucking heaven.

  She raises her head off the bed, her face full of worry. “What’d I do?”

  “Nothing. You feel good.”

  “You do, too. I think. I’m not sure what I’m supposed to be feeling. But I feel you, too.”

  “I don’t want to hurt you, so tell me if I go too fast.” For the first time in my life, I wish there weren’t others before her. So we could experience what it’s like to find our own little piece of heaven together.

  If I cause her any pain, she never says a word about it. And when I move, she gasps. It’s not from fear or pain though, she’s letting go. Once she does, she squeezes her thighs around my back and holds me tighter. “Damn, baby. You okay?”

  “Yeah,” she says with her eyes closed. “Dylan, I don’t know.”

  “Don’t think, Zo. Just feel me.”

  She listens and opens her eyes. We’re no longer two friends dangling over a dangerous cliff. We’ve jumped and there’s no going back.

  “What are you thinking?”

  My girl’s a talker in bed. “That you’re beautiful. And that I’m going to make you feel even better.”

  “How are you gonna do that?”

  “Like this,” I tell her as I push a little harder on her clit, circling the bud faster.

  “Holy shit. Do more of that.”

  I chuckle against her lips. Even during sex, she’s classic Zoe. I’m not sure that’ll ever change, and I wouldn’t want it to. I’d like to think she’s talking so much because I’m home for her.

  Thanks to her bold move in the living room, I’ll never forget the way her body accepts mine. How she giggles when I tickle her neck with my lips, and the way she grabs ahold of me when I do something that makes her feel like she’s free falling. Zoe’s even more amazing as a lover than she is as a friend.

  “Dylan,” she moans when I thrust inside her a little harder, still working her with my fingers. “Dylan. Ohmigod, something’s happening,” she says in a rush.

  She’s so tight, I grit my teeth and keep moving. “Let it happen, Zoe.”

  She listens, and I’m not stupid. It has everything to do with her clit and very little to do with my dick. But this is only the first time, and I’ll change that once she’s used to me.

  She rides the wave until it disappears, only opening her eyes once her grip on my arm loosens.

  Pulling out of her, I get rid of the condom and by the time I roll back over, she’s reaching for the covers.

  “Not yet,” I tell her. “Come here.”

  She lets me pull her into my side and I take my time showing Zoe that the connection doesn’t end after the orgasm. As long as she’s here with me, she’s mine to take care of.

  “Dylan?” she says sleepily.

  “Yeah, Zo?”

  “Thanks,” she whispers. “For letting me be weird.”

  “I love weird.”

  Zoe

  I don’t remember falling asleep, but when I open my eyes, the sun’s shining through the curtains. My cheekbones ache, my head is fuzzy, and my nose isn’t much better than yesterday.

  The main difference though isn’t my face or my nose. It’s waking up next to Dylan.

  I’ve always imagined what my first time would be like. I pictured myself with someone like Dylan, but I never thought it would be him. Even once I admitted to myself that I cared about him, I told myself it couldn’t happen. It shouldn’t happen. Yet somehow it still did.

  From the moment I swallowed those pain killers, the inhibitions that held me captive disappeared. I walked into the living room, saw Dylan, and reacted. And when I saw what I wanted looking back at me, I couldn’t stop. I didn’t want to stop.

  Like a woman possessed, I straddled Dylan and rode him a full ten seconds. If it was a rodeo, I’d have won the biggest belt buckle this side of the Mississippi.

  Now I have to live with the consequences of my hips, whether good or bad.

  If things get messy and I lose Dylan, it’ll be my fault. I did this to us because I was high as a kite. Now that I’m wide awake, I’ve come face to face with reality. Only I’m not convinced sex with Dylan was ever meant to happen.

  Standing under the warm spray of the shower, I’m reminded where Dylan’s been. My muscles ache, each movement a memory of how far we went—how much of myself I gave to him.

  If the changes are this noticeable to me, what’s the rest of the world going to see?

  What will Dylan see?

  And will he still want me now that he’s had me? According to Keely, guys are only in it for the sex.

  I thought a shower would clear my foggy brain, but afterward, I’m still so confused. If I didn’t have class in an hour, I’d stay wrapped in a towel and crawl back into bed—my bed.

  I have a slew of texts from Keely on my phone, and I wish I hadn’t looked at them. As usual, she’s inviting me to a party—one at Chaz’s place.

  I’m not in the mood for a party, but if I tell Keely no, that’ll leave my night wide open. I’ll spend hours thinking about Dylan and the ways he woke up my body.

  With his lips.

  With his touch.

  With his words.

  I have no choice. I have to go. At least until I figure out what to do about Dylan.

  Instead of putting my hair in its usual ponytail or messy knot, I take my time drying the strands, barely recognizing the bruised and splinted girl in the mirror. Once my hair’s hanging around my shoulders, as straight as I’ll get it, I dab on a thick layer of foundation to cover the ugly marks on my face. Despite their purple, green, and yellow color, the bruises are barely noticeable once I’m finished.

  If I don’t leave now, I’ll be late for class. But I’m drawn to Dylan’s room like a moth to a flame. I watch him from the doorway, stunned that I was underneath him just a few hours ago. He’s still in the same position I left him, only I’m not in his arms anymore.

  I wonder how he’ll act toward me now that he’s seen me naked. And I wonder if I’ll ever be able to have a conversation without picturing his penis. It’s a great penis, but it’s not my penis.

  It can’t be.

  That would mess up what we have.

  Wouldn’t it?

  Being with Dylan is like inching up the hill of a roller coaster. When he brushed his lips against mine, we ascended the first hill. Our tongues tangled, and we reached the top. And then he eased inside me and those few weightless seconds made my head spin until my stomach dropped to the floor. Every new place he touched me, the process started all over again. It was the longest ride of my life, better than any I’ve experienced before. Under normal circumstances, I wouldn’t hesitate to get back in line.

  I’d take those moments of bliss over this raging pain in my face any day of the week.

  I have more pills, but I’m too afraid to swallow them. Especially after the way they turned me into a horny mess last night. The entire campus would be at risk. One wrong look, and I could mistake a cautious glance for a declaration of love.

  But by the time I get to class, I’m in so much pain I can’t stand it. Just the simple act of walking across campus exhausted me. Or maybe it was the thoughts that wore me out. All those naked images stored in my brain.

  The seats are almost full, so I pick one of the few remaining, making sure I’m by the aisle and not stuck in the center of the room.

  The pen’s in my hand, notebook’s open, but I’m not paying attention. I can’t. No matter how hard I try to concentrate on the lecture, all I see is Dylan. I think about him so intently, class ends and I haven’t taken a single note. I don’t r
emember what the professor spoke about. But Dylan’s initials are scribbled in the margin, surrounded by little hearts and squiggles.

  I’m turning into my sister.

  The next isn’t any better. Another hour of information goes in one ear and out the other. If I hadn’t spent so much time reading the text and preparing over break, I would be in a full blown panic.

  I can’t stand how much space Dylan is occupying inside my brain.

  He’s probably waiting outside for me like he always is, but my legs send me running toward a door at the opposite end of the building. Like a coward, I duck outside, hurrying past the bushes like a hunchback.

  I’m not ready to face him. I’m not ready to talk about what we did or how I feel. I want life to go back to the way it was, comfortable and predictable.

  But Dylan’s not stupid. He knows I’m avoiding him. After I don’t show my face, he sends a text letting me know he’s going to Trevor’s.

  Space. He’s giving me space to get myself together.

  Just in case he’s lying, I hide out in the library. It’s safer than going home.

  I end up staring at pages of material for hours. Information I’ve read at least twice already. And my notebook continues to suffer. It looks like it belongs to a teenager in love.

  I’ve never hid from my best friend. He’s the person in my life I run to. I know it’s wrong to avoid him, so I head home with my heart lodged somewhere in my throat.

  But Dylan doesn’t lie, and he’s not in the apartment.

  On the kitchen table, there’s a piece of paper with the word fridge written on it. I open the refrigerator and find a bag from Checker’s with my go-to sandwich inside. The sight of it unleashes more guilt.

  Dylan knew I’d be worked up and that I’d forget to eat something decent today. I unwrap the sandwich and take a bite. I’m starving.

  His kindness continues when I turn on the TV and find one of my favorite movies on the DVR, waiting for me. Not wanting me to be hungry or bored, driving myself crazy, he thought of everything.

  He’s even left his mark in my room. Lying in the center of my bed is a candy bracelet. A candy bracelet says more than words ever could, and I feel like a terrible person for running.