by Lindsey Iler
“Girls like Ashlee are vindictive, Graham. It isn’t your fault.” I fist his shirt and tug him close. “Seeing her with you, for a split second, I thought I was losing you.”
“You can’t lose me.”
“I trust you, maybe fully for the first time in our entire relationship, so please don’t fuck it up.”
Graham kisses along my neck and whispers, “I won’t fuck this up, but you’re,” he watches me through hooded eyes, “for sure going to be fucked.” He massages up and down my thighs. His excited gaze dances over the desolate backyard. When they turn back to me, he smirks.
“Don’t even think about it.” I push his hands off my bare legs.
“You, all riled up, makes me want to bury myself inside you.”
My cheeks warm at his words. I scrutinize the area.
“No one will catch us, Ken. Come on.”
Our eyes lock, and no force in the world could make me argue with Graham. His hands wrap around my waist, and bring me back down to the ground. Expert fingers unbutton my shorts and slide down my zipper. A loud, eager moan escapes my clenched lips.
“What do you want?” he asks.
My fingers slip through his belt loops, and I bring our bodies flush together. “I think you know what I want.” I pop the button of his jeans.
Graham takes the denim on a slow ride down my legs, leaving my emerald boy shorts in place. The tickling sensation sets my blood on fire. As he stands, he smacks my ass. The sensation creates an unexpected frenzy.
My immediate reaction is to drop to my knees and drag his pants and boxer briefs over the taut muscles of his legs. The sight makes my throat constrict. A quick swipe of my tongue wets my lips and his tip. Graham’s fingers tug at my hair. He guides my head with his hands. My cheeks hollow as I increase my speed, and I moan when he hits the back of my throat.
“Jesus fucking Christ,” Graham mummers, releasing his fingers from my hair. “Get up here.”
A hot smack on my ass sings out as I release him from the tight hold of my mouth. Once on my feet, Graham tears my underwear down my legs. His knees hit the ground, and his tongue laps at my core. I twitch and shake under his spectacular talent.
“I’ll ask you again, Kennedy, what do you want?”
“For you to fuck me silly in a stranger’s backyard, of course.” The boldness of my words makes me laugh.
Graham’s eyes light up, but darken seconds later. He hoists me up, and my legs wrap around him as he walks us backward. My spine hits the back of the shed. The chipped paint bites through my thin shirt.
“Fuck you silly, huh?” He balances me on his forearms, grabs a condom from his wallet, and slips it on.
In one quick thrust, he’s buried to the hilt. His movements are slow and teasing, bringing me to the edge, but leaving me wanting more. Doesn’t he know he doesn’t need to hold back?
“I’m not going to break.”
His control slips when my fingernails dig into his back, demanding he unleash the way I know he’s dreamt of. His hands tighten on my thighs and his breath grows choppy. He loses himself inside me, driving in and out until I scream his name in release.
*****
“What’s in your hair?” Bea asks. She brushes a few strands and showcases her findings.
Red paint chips.
“Yeah, Kennedy, what’s in your hair?” His arm wraps around my shoulder and he winks. “Mark, let’s go,” he shouts.
“Rico’s still in there.” Mark meets us on the front step, dragging Bea behind him.
Rick’s in the kitchen, sucking face with a rather busty brunette who can’t keep her hands off his ass. Instead of dragging him away, we’ve given him extra time to get whatever he’s getting from her. Time’s up.
I push past our group and duck my head into the kitchen. Rico has the girl pinned against the refrigerator, her hands buried in his hair.
“Rick.” My amusement laces his name together. “The first step is to remove your hands from the girl’s ass, and then take two steps back.”
Rick bangs his fist against the stainless steel and laughs. “I’ll be out in a second, Kennedy,” he says through clenched teeth. His eyes widen in a warning that only causes my eyes to roll. It doesn’t pack much of a punch as far as threats are concerned.
“We are leaving. Like now.” I turn to the girl. “I’m sure he’ll call you. Now, Rick, let’s go.”
“You know, I could’ve closed.” Rick nods at the girl thumbing her bottom lip as we walk to the door.
“I’m sure you could have, and I’m so proud of your panty dropping skills, but it’s two in the morning, and I’d like to get to bed.” I pat him on the back.
“Easy for you to say. You get to cuddle up next to him tonight.”
“Aww, Rick, do you want to cuddle with us tonight so you aren’t lonely?” I goad.
“If that scenario ends with your man chopping off my dick, I’ll take a hard pass.”
“Wise answer.” Graham groans behind me and I wink over my shoulder.
By the time we get home, the dash clock reads three in the morning. I stretch my neck from side to side. Graham brushes my hair from my neck and massages the deep muscles on our way to his room.
I toss my shirt on the floor. “Put me to bed,” I whisper, lifting my arms.
Graham fingers the hem of my tank top, and with slow precision, lifts it off my body, tossing it beside us.
My shorts glide down my legs. The sheets cool my hot skin as I tuck them around my body. Graham kicks off his shoes, and leaves his own pile of clothes on the floor. Every second he’s closer to being in this bed, every cell in my body fills with electricity.
“I’m sorry, for tonight, for everything.” As if he can’t get sexier, he crawls onto the bed, one knee at a time. His eyes devour me.
“Quit apologizing and come lay with me.” I tug his hand until he’s beside me. Resting my cheek against his chest, I throw a leg over his hips. His hand brushes up and down my thigh until I find the peaceful sleep only Graham’s quiet breaths can bring.
*****
A hand rocks my shoulders.
“Wake up, babe. We’ve got to get going.” My eyes are slow to open, but when they do, Graham grins down at me. “You’re cute when you’re sleepy.”
“You’re always cute.” I pat his cheek.
“Cute is reserved for little brothers and the guys you’re trying to give the ‘let’s just be friends’ talk to.” He tickles my side, making me beg him to stop. My legs kick in protest until he’s straddling me. It’s then I realize he’s close. Closer than close. He’s practically a second skin.
“You’re definitely not cute.” I lift the hem of his shirt and run a single fingertip over the ridges of his stomach.
“Don’t do that.”
“Don’t do what?”
“Bite your lip like you’re hungry while running your hands all over me.” Graham flips me onto my stomach and smacks my ass. “We don’t have time for shenanigans this morning.”
“There’s always time.” I lay my head on the pillow and inhale what’s left of Graham’s scent.
“I love your enthusiasm, but Ben’s waiting for us, and the kid appreciates punctuality.” His weight leaves my back. Graham changes into gym shorts and a t-shirt, zips his hoodie, and grins at me. “Hope you brought tennis shoes.” He pulls on his baseball cap and tosses my camera into my purse.
“Why, what are we doing?” My eyes widen.
“The batting cages.”
“Graham, I don’t do batting cages.”
“You do now. I’ll meet you downstairs.” With a quick wink, he’s gone.
Well, guess I’m going to the batting cages. I hurry to the bathroom, clean up and dress in record time, and run to the car.
Under strict orders from Betsy to bring him back in the same condition he’s in, or she’ll kill us both, we secure Ben in the backseat and leave.
“How’s that little asshole, Andrew, doing?” Graham eyes Ben in t
he rearview mirror. I elbow him. “What?” he mouths to me.
I jerk my head toward the backseat where a giggling Ben sits. I twist and make a funny face at Ben, making him laugh harder.
“Is Andrew being nicer to you, Ben?”
“No, but I’m fine with it.” His frail shoulders shrug. “He’s just jealous he’ll never be as cute as me.”
“I see Graham’s been instilling his arrogance in you.” I glance at Graham. His eyes focus on the road, a sliver of a smile begging to grow.
“He says I need to be confident, not cocky,” Ben whispers. Graham reaches behind him with a fist. Ben slams his against it.
“It worked with you, didn’t it?” Graham peers over at me.
When he’s unbuckled, Ben hops from the backseat and waits on the sidewalk, tapping his foot with anticipation. A bag slung over his shoulder, and a baseball hat sitting like perfection, Graham comes around the truck looking like every girl’s wet dream. His arm muscles strain as he pulls Ben in close to his side.
“You ready?”
“What if I can’t do it? What if I’ll never be as good as you?” His voice hiccups in the middle of his sentence. My heart constricts at the sound.
Graham drops the bag to the ground and kneels at Ben’s height. “So, what if you’ll never be as good as me? Maybe you’ll be better at soccer or playing the piano, but you’ll never know unless you try, kid.” He smiles at me. “Plus, on the bright side, you’ll always be better than Kennedy at baseball.”
“Hey.” I smack his chest as he stands. “That’s not fair.”
“But Kennedy’s better at dancing than us,” Ben adds.
“Exactly.” I high-five him.
“Are you so sure about that?” Graham does some weird dance/walk, twirling and spinning with more enthusiasm I expect to see from him when it comes to public dancing. His insane, erratic moves have gained us an audience. Ben and I are in stitches when he sweeps up his bag and walks by as if he’s just won a competition.
“He doesn’t really think he’s a good dancer, does he?” Ben tugs on my sleeve.
I ruffle his hair and send him to walk with Graham so I can capture images of the boy I love and the little boy who managed to make him grow up. Through the viewfinder, Graham grins down at Ben, swinging their joined hands between them. The lens of my camera records a moment in time, never to be replaced.
At the cage, Graham insists I go first, arming me in a baseball helmet and a bat to fend off the fast balls aimed in my direction. I stand at the plate, the bat shaking in my hand. The first ball flies by, hitting the rubber mat behind me.
“You can do this, baby. Keep your eyes on the ball,” Graham shouts. I whirl around. His hands hold tight to the fence. His lower abs are exposed. The sight causes my mouth to water. I gulp back any urge I have to run through the gate and wrap my legs around his waist. “Turn back around. The kid’s right here.”
He laughs and bets Ben I won’t hit one ball. Ben takes his offer, putting ice cream on the line.
“Ben, I got this. Chocolate chip cookie dough is all yours.” I swing at the next ball and hear a loud crack. “Holy sh-shoot.” A sweet pair of eyes looks at me. I hand the bat over to Graham. “Oh, ye of little faith.” I smack his butt. “Show us how it’s done, Mr. Black.”
“Prepare to be stunned and amazed at my athletic prowess.” He bows and turns to the machine, no helmet, and yanks out hit after hit.
“I’ll never be that good,” Ben whispers.
“Sure you will.”
Ben runs through the gate when Graham holds the bat out to him. After positioning Ben’s feet and teaching him how to hold the bat, Graham tells him to pick his pitch. Ben will know when it’s the right one. Ben swings his arms, and together, they hit the ball to the other end of the cage.
I jump up and down in celebration. Ben runs from the cage, Graham fast on his heels. His short arms wrap around my waist. I bend down and take him in my arms. Over his shoulder, I peer at the boy I love and allow myself to believe in a world where Graham and I will have a family together. What will our children look like? Will they have his undying devotion to those he loves? Will they find great joy in reading because of me?
*****
“How are you still eating that?” Graham asks, parking the car in the driveway.
“I like to savor my ice cream. Do you have a problem with that?” I answer, rounding the front of his SUV.
“I have something you can savor.” He pulls me in close.
“Seriously? We just got done hanging out with a seven-year-old, and you’re already thinking about diving between my legs?”
“Yes, I’m already thinking about this.” He cups me through my jeans. “And this.” A soft kiss lands where my t-shirt dips into a V.
“You two going to fuck each other in the driveway, or come inside and have dinner with us?” Rick shouts from the front porch.
Neither of us can contain our laughter.
“You should kick him out.” I walk backward, Graham’s hand tucked in mine.
“I heard you, Kennedy. I’m starting to believe you aren’t as sweet as everyone thinks.”
I hug Rick as I pass into the house.
Amanda and Bea are at the center island, drooling over the newest Men’s Health Magazine. I peek over Bea’s shoulder, and instantly, understand why. Mark sets the large table and Sandy turns her back to me and stares holes into Griffin’s temple. Her clear avoidance is understandable, but still grates on my last nerve. I haven’t done anything to deserve the silent treatment.
“Sandy, you got a second?” I nod to the living room.
Griffin mouths something to her before she follows me out of the kitchen. I prop my hip against the sofa, and she stands behind one of the high back chairs.
“I can’t stand the weirdness between us. I know Ashlee’s your best friend, and there’s a loyalty you have to uphold, but you need to understand that, for as long as I’m with Graham, she’s no longer welcome in this house.”
“I’ve spent our entire friendship protecting Ashlee, and for the first time, I can’t justify her actions, Kennedy. I’m struggling with that.”
“You’re a good friend, Sandy. Ignore me if you have to. I’d do the same thing for my friends.”
“I don’t need to ignore you, Kennedy. I’m embarrassed for her.”
“She’s not the first person to try to take Graham away. Hell, Amanda tried, but what outsiders don’t know is nothing can break us.”
“Kennedy, he’s lucky to have someone as strong as you in his corner.”
“Sometimes all you have is being strong.” I nod and smile, my lips tight.
When I step into the kitchen, everyone’s chatter ceases, and they turn to face me. Griffin’s eyes travel beyond me to Sandy.
“Y’all can stop talking shit now. We’ve hashed it out. Quit being weird.” Sandy nudges my side as she passes.
“What time you guys heading out tomorrow?” Mark asks, his eyes never leaving Bea.
“Afternoon-ish,” I answer, sitting on Graham’s lap. “What’s the plans for today?”
Their eyes drift to us for some grand idea, but Graham is ready to disappoint.
“I have a shit ton of studying to do. I’m sorry. I didn’t know you were coming, and I have huge tests coming up.”
“I do, too.” I twirl to face him, a huge smile on my face.
Graham trails his finger down my bare arm. “Did you bring your books?” I bite my lip and nod. “Want to go upstairs and study?” He kisses my neck, and goosebumps cover my skin.
Rico groans, slamming his hands down on the table. “How do you guys do that? You even make studying seem romantic. It’s fucking studying.”
“One day, a girl will make studying seem like a romantic gesture.” I stand, Graham’s hand in mine, and pull him to his feet. I bend down to whisper in Rick’s ear. “Plus, we quiz each other, and if we get the answer wrong, we have to remove an article of clothing.” Graham laughs and shrugs
when Rick looks to him for confirmation.
“Can I study with you guys? I’m still struggling with my business ethics class.” Rick wiggles his eyebrows.
“Not a chance in hell.” Graham answers before I can.
Graham’s ass sways as he takes the stairs two at a time. By the time I mosey up to his room, he’s standing with his back to me. Completely naked. My jaw hits the floor, taking in his even more defined back muscles. Between training and games, he’s gotten his fair share of workouts. It shows. Oh god, it shows.
“What are you doing?” I giggle. “We’re supposed to be studying.” He turns, and I lift an eyebrow. “Is this a new thing? Studying in the buff?”
Fast, long strides bring him to me. Before I realize what he’s doing, he snatches me up and throws me on the bed. I fall into a fit of school girl giggles at his antics. He brushes the hair from my face.
“I figured … we could just get to the point.”
And we got to the point … twice.
*****
When we wake up, the usual dread is ever present. It’s the kind that aches in your bones when you have to say an unwanted goodbye. The idea of transferring to UConn has been running around in my head. The distance from NY to Connecticut is doable, but waking up next to him every morning would be wonderful. Even when he’s snoring.
“You sound like a freight train.” I shove on his shoulder.
“I’m exhausted. School and baseball are kicking my ass.” He snorts, wraps his arm around my neck, and pulls me in for a kiss.
“Do you know when the scout’s going to make it out?”
“Next month sometime.” He rubs between his eyebrows. “The season opener solidified his coming to see me. At least, Coach thinks so.”
“I still can’t believe I missed your first home game.” I grab my hair tie from the bedside table and put my hair into a messy bun.
“You’ll be there for plenty more first games.” Graham circles his finger through a loose strand near my ear.
“Like when you pitch for the first time in the major leagues.”
