To Be Your Last

by Rae Kennedy

  He grits his teeth and his fingers dig into my ass as he plunges into me hard and fast, fucking me up against the wall. He’s relentless as he fucks and fucks and fucks. I dig my fingernails into his back.

  “Is this what you need?” he rasps in my ear.

  “Yes.”

  I try not to make any noise but the wet sounds and slapping skin echoes around the walls with every thrust.

  It’s quick and primal and I clench around him hard. He grunts, tensing and jolting as he comes too.

  CHAPTER 27

  We don’t move for several moments. Panting. Satiated. He holds me up against the wall, my legs wrapped tightly around his waist.

  He’s still inside me.

  He brushes strands of hair off my face with fingers that are...trembling? And then touches his nose to mine.

  “Does this mean I can have your number now?”

  I laugh, nodding. “Yes.”

  A broad smile plays across his face and then he leans in to kiss me softly. He shifts us so I’m on my feet then pulls out of me.

  I whimper at the loss of him, unable to hold it back.

  “Are you okay? Was I too rough?”

  “No. It wasn’t too rough.”

  “Good.” He adjusts himself back into his pants and fastens his jeans before looking back to me. “I missed you.”

  “I missed you too.” I blink away the tears I feel welling up as it hits me just how much I’ve missed him. And he's leaving again. Tomorrow.

  Warm liquid is starting to drip down my inner thighs and I grimace a little.

  “I need to get cleaned up and go back to work.”

  “Oh shit. I’m sorry, I shouldn’t have—”

  “It’s okay. I wanted you to.”

  We exchange a look and he runs his hand through his hair.

  “I guess I should go too.” He glances down the hall the way we came. “Is there a back exit somewhere?”

  “Yeah.” I point out the door that leads out to the alley.

  “Right, okay.” He looks back and forth between me and the door a couple of times before striding back over, pressing a hand to my back and kissing me again. He applies gentle pressure, lingering. I rise to my toes to kiss him back, fervently, desperately.

  Is he leaving now? Am I going to see him again?

  He ends the kiss and levels his face with mine. “Can I come back? When you get off, can I meet you here? We can go to your place or you can come with me. I don’t care. I just want to be with you.”

  I swallow hard and nod enthusiastically, temporarily unable to speak. “I’m between places right now. I’m sleeping on a friend’s couch, so...”

  “You’ll come with me then?”

  “Yes.”

  He does his quick two-kiss goodbye and I watch him go out the door before I retreat down the dark hall to the bathroom.

  After I clean up, I catch sight of my reflection. I’m still flushed pink, my lips are dark and puffy, my hair is disheveled. I finger-comb my hair and smooth it down, straighten my dress, and splash cold water on my face in an effort to not look like I just had sex. But the way Mila looks at me with her jaw dropped and one hand on her hip when I get behind the bar tells me the attempt was futile.

  “Did you two just do what I think you just did?”

  I blink, not sure what to say. The silence is enough answer for her. I’m still too much in my I-just-got-fucked-up-against-a-wall-in-the-back-of-a-bar-by-the-sexiest-man-alive fog to even be embarrassed.

  I try to go about working as if it’s a totally normal night and I’m a totally normal person, but it’s not long until people start giving me sidelong looks.

  Guys seem to be flirting harder. Extra winking. More boob ogling. Bigger tips.

  Someone asks me outright if I’m Mystery Girl.

  A group of tipsy girls start asking questions rapid-fire style. Are you two, like, together? Is he still here? Can we get a selfie? Is he a good kisser?

  Trying to deflect all of the questions is overwhelming. Finally, after giving the girls a round of free blowjob shots, Mila pulls me away.

  “Rory and I think you should go home.”

  “You do?”

  “G, you’re basically being harassed and half the people swarming the bar aren’t even ordering anything.”

  “Are you sure that would be okay?”

  “We can handle it. And we’ll tell Terry you were really sick if he asks.”

  “Okay.”

  My insides are twirling and dancing with excitement as I grab my things. My heartbeat quickens. I climb in my Jeep with the hotel room key card gripped tightly in my hand.

  * * *

  The hotel is in a high-rise building downtown. Its lobby is all polished marble floors and rustic wood wall treatments and elegant black light fixtures. I walk briskly past the reception desk, trying to hold the short skirt of my dress down while the tanned man with the perfect coif of black hair follows me with scrutinizing eyes.

  I stand in front of the bank of elevators, watching the little down arrow light up and listening to my heart thump.

  I'm alone in the elevator. There’s no music. Just me and the digital number above the door going up and up. I pass floor four, five...eight, nine...fourteen, fifteen, then finally it stops on the sixteenth floor with a bright ding and the shiny doors part.

  I step into the hall and look down at the keycard where 16-A is written in scrolly script. Suite A is just to the left and then I’m face-to-face with a solid wood door. The Do Not Disturb sign hangs on the handle.

  Should I knock? Should I have called first? I was too excited when I left the bar. I just wanted to see him.

  That’s all I want still. So I slide in the key and push it open.

  The space is large and dimly lit. There’s a kitchen space just off the entrance and a sitting area beyond with white couches and a plush rug. And there he is. Sitting in a side chair, silhouetted by the sparkling lights of the city that shine from the expansive floor-to-ceiling windows that make up the entire west wall of the suite.

  He whips his head toward me, standing quickly as if startled.

  “Hi.” My voice cracks.

  His long legs close the distance between us.

  “I’m sorry, I—” I hold up the key card. “Logan—”

  He cups my face in his hands. “I’m glad you’re here.”

  I tip my face up at the same time he crashes his down to mine, our lips meeting hard and then the kiss turns surprisingly soft, warm.

  He breaks away, still holding my face. “That you’re here at all, like this, I—” His throat bobs. “I swear I went there tonight in hopes you’d agree to talk with me. I wasn’t planning on laying you out against a wall.”

  “I’m not complaining.”

  He bites his lip to hold back a smile while his eyes go dark, hooded.

  My breathing gets heavier too.

  “I wasn’t prepared,” he says.

  “I know.” My face heats as I remember telling him to go in me bare. “I’m on the pill. I promise I never forget it.”

  “I trust you.”

  “And I’m...clean. I renewed my prescription last month and they always run the tests.”

  He nods, rubbing up and down my arms. “I’m good too. I haven’t been tested in a long time, but I... I’ve only been with one person in the last three years.”

  It takes me a second to process his words.

  “Wow, you haven’t?”

  “No.”

  “Oh. Um, I have—”

  He shakes his head. “I don’t need to know. I don’t care. I just want you. I want to be near you. Listen to your voice. Touch you, hug you, kiss you.” He nuzzles his nose into my hair. “Be inside you again. If you want.”

  I want. I want so bad.

  “I could use a shower,” I say.

  “Okay.” His fingers fall along my sides, skimming my thighs and then grasping at the hem of my dress. “Can I?”

  I raise my arms in answe
r and he lifts it over my head, and to the floor. He steps back and admires my body for a moment before reaching for me and pulling himself close again.

  He kisses the corner of my mouth, my jaw, and down my neck while his hands apply just enough pressure to dull the ache in my breasts. He hooks his thumbs into the lacy cups, brushing over my sensitive skin before pulling them down to expose my pert nipples. Then he dips his head to kiss and suck on each one as his fingers delicately maneuver the clasps in the back until my bra falls away.

  “Beautiful,” he murmurs against my skin.

  I gasp as he sucks harder, a sharp bolt of pleasure surging through my body. I feel tingly, my insides going to goo, warm and pliable. I pull away and he looks up at me with confusion, his eyes still hooded with lust. I give him a coy smile before turning my back to him and wiggling my hips to shimmy off my underwear, arching my back and bending just enough so he gets a good view.

  “I was going to take those off,” he snarls behind me, “with my teeth.”

  I glance over my shoulder. “Oops.” And start walking toward the bedroom area where I presume the bathroom is. The unmistakable sound of clothing hitting the floor thuds behind me.

  The shower is all glass and white marble and the water heats almost instantly. I know he’s watching me from the doorway as I step in. I close my eyes and let the hot water rain down over my hair and face.

  And then he’s behind me. His body warm and firm, pressed against my back. I lean into him, laying my head back on his shoulder as the water pelts my front.

  The scent of coconut fills the steamy shower as Colin lathers what appears to be the entire contents of a mini bottle of body wash between his hands. I’m about to giggle and ask him how dirty he thinks I am but then his warm hands are on my body. Washing me.

  He starts with my shoulders and down my arms. My shoulder blades and down my back, around my hips and over my ass, his fingertips grazing just inside the cleft of my cheeks. And then he presses my back to his chest again so he can wash my front.

  His hands glide easily over my skin, slippery with soap. Over the swells of my breasts, down the center of my stomach, the curve of my hips. Over my pelvis. And then he cups his hand between my legs, his fingers eagerly rubbing and slipping all over my most sensitive flesh. I whimper when he finally starts circling my clit, coaxing instant pleasure and sending waves of achy need through my body down to the arches of my feet.

  “Do you like that?” he asks in my ear.

  “Yes.”

  His cock is hard and upright, nestled perfectly against my ass, and I rock back against him. He holds me tighter to him and presses kisses to my open neck.

  “That feels good,” he says.

  “Uh-huh,” is all I can muster as I throw my head back, his fingers bringing me closer to the brink, the hot water and steam encapsulating us.

  But then his hands move back to my breasts and the build-up starts to slip away. I'm about to protest when his cock slips between my legs, rubbing along my folds and then to my clit. When he pulls back, the ridges of the head of his cock drag perfectly over my too-sensitive clit, which is now buzzing and throbbing with anticipation.

  Water streams in rivulets down my body, washing the bubbles away, and I watch as the pink head of his cock pokes in and out from between my legs as he ruts behind me. He’s rubbing my breasts, teasing my nipples as he continues to kiss my neck. The friction of his erection thrusting against my pussy is almost too much and my stomach tightens as the tension builds again.

  “I could come like this,” I say huskily.

  “Me too. But I’d rather be inside you.”

  I’m about to bend forward and let him press into me when he reaches for the lever and turns the water off.

  He wraps me in a white, fluffy towel and I dry myself as Colin towels off in front of me. He finishes first then proceeds to grab my towel and help me dry off, mussing my hair with a big grin while he stands before me, completely naked.

  His body is long and lean, his beautiful skin covered in ink. He’s gotten more tattoos, mostly on his legs and his upper thighs...and now I’m definitely just staring at his cock. It’s still mostly hard, pointing outward and bobbing with his movements as he dries me. I’m not even going to pretend I’m not staring at it. I like it. It’s beautiful. And sexy as hell. And in this moment, even if it’s just for tonight, it’s mine.

  An unexpected squeal leaves my lips as he swoops down and lifts me in the air and carries me, naked, to the bed.

  He pulls the covers away and lays me down before crawling behind me. He rolls me to my side and presses to my back, tucking his knees up against my legs and wrapping his arms tightly around me. I clasp my hands over his, holding them to my chest.

  “What are we doing?” I ask.

  “This is called spooning. It’s one of the best forms of cuddling.”

  Colin Wolfe fucking loves cuddling.

  “I’m aware. But aren’t we supposed to cuddle after sex, not before?”

  “Nope. We can cuddle before, during, and after.”

  “During?”

  “Mm hmm.”

  He grazes my earlobe with his teeth as he trails his fingers down my arm, leaving goosebumps in their wake. Then he rubs down my side and massages my hip, his thumb working in deep circles on my rear. I let out all of the soft sounds of desire I held back when he was pleasuring me at the bar.

  He’s kneading my ass and my upper thighs and his fingers keep almost skimming my sex. I’m quivering for him, undulating against him.

  “Are you still wet for me?”

  “Uh huh.”

  And then he sinks two fingers inside me from behind, quick and smooth.

  “Shit, you are so wet.” He pushes them in and out. In and out. Nice and slow.

  I sigh, writhing, wanting more. Needing it.

  His fingers slip out and the wide head of his cock presses lightly at my slick entrance.

  “Is this okay?” he asks, lips at my ear.

  “Yes.” I lift my bottom and arch back to nudge him in already.

  He brings his hand to my lips. “Suck.” And I take the two fingers that were just in my pussy into my mouth at the same time he eases his cock inside me.

  I moan around his fingers, sucking them, tasting myself on them. While I'm sucking, he’s working his cock in and out of me at a tortuously languid pace. He slides out slowly and every time he surges back in, it’s deeper than before.

  He slides his fingers out of my mouth and reaches around to rub the wet tips over my clit as he keeps grinding into me. Rocking in and out like he has all the time in the world.

  “Oh, god. Colin. I love your cock.”

  He chuckles behind me.

  “And your hands. And—”

  He’s building up the tension in my body again. Everywhere his skin touches mine is hot and liquid and my body is coiled, ready.

  “And I need—” I let out more gasps as he circles my clit harder.

  “What do you need?”

  “I need to come,” I cry.

  “Kiss me.”

  I twist my head around and he leans forward to capture my mouth with his. The kiss is passionate, deep. His tongue hard and then soft. His breathing is labored. He’s holding me close with one arm tight around my chest, stimulating my clit with his other hand while thrusting harder into my pussy.

  I’m at the edge. About to burst.

  He keeps kissing me, keeps pounding into me, and then I explode. I break the kiss to cry out.

  Waves wrack my body and I bear down around his cock.

  “Yes, just like that.” Colin is fucking me harder, faster. His hand, over-slick with my juices, is still focused on my clit, drawing out my pleasure as I continue to contract around him. “So fucking good.”

  And then he’s kissing me again, grunting, his movements becoming erratic and then he’s pulsating inside of me as he releases.

  His heartbeat is rapid against my back as we lie here, neither of us mak
ing a move, his body still wrapped around mine. We stay like this, cuddled, for a long time.

  I don’t realize I’m nodding off until Colin’s words startle me awake.

  “I’m sorry.” He brushes my hair away from my face, tucking it behind my ear.

  “Hmm. For what?” I roll over to face him.

  “For how I acted after Logan’s overdose. I was an asshole.” He caresses down my arms to my hands and back up.

  “You were. But that’s in the past. We can leave it there.”

  He continues running his hand over my skin and shivers work down my spine. He pulls the covers up over our naked bodies and I snuggle in close to his warmth.

  “Do you ever regret that summer? Being with me?”

  “No. I’ve never regretted it. I was angry with you for a while, but mostly I was just hurt at how easy it was for you to push me away.”

  He turns me to face him, hands on both sides of my face. “It wasn’t easy. I watched you. I watched you sit outside the hospital on that bench for three hours until your dad picked you up. I wanted to go out there and hug you and bring you back in with me every second. And every second I didn’t do it I was dying inside.”

  I hold his face too, surprised to see a tear shedding in the corner of his eye. I wipe it away and kiss his cheeks, his nose.

  “I was okay,” I say. “In some ways, it was good for me. I had to go home and tell my parents the truth about where I’d been and school. Then I made the decision to take a break from school and move to Chicago all by myself. And I did it. I got a job, a place, and saved enough to start taking online creative writing classes. I don’t know if I ever would have pursued writing if it wasn’t for you.”

  He kisses me sweetly on the forehead and asks me about my classes. I tell him about what kind of writing I’ve been doing and when I started reading my poetry. I tell him about my job at the bar and Mila. I don’t tell him about Ethan because I’m sure he doesn’t want to hear about him—at least not right now.

  His fingers skim over the words tattooed on my rib. “Ever regret this?” he asks.

  “Nope. I’ve never regretted getting that either. I can still remember exactly how I felt when I got it.”

  “How did you feel?”