The Promise

by River Laurent

  “I don’t know where Cassie got her information from, but that’s just not right. I’m friends with you because you’re tough. And I’m friends with you because you don’t act like a girl. But I’m also your best friend because you’re funny and fun. And we dig the same foods and go to the same school and you have a cool treehouse where we do our homework.” I sit down next to her as her crying comes to a halt. She’s no longer bawling and I’m relieved.

  “So you’ll still be my friend after this?” she asks.

  “I’ll always be your friend.” I grab a hold of her hand and she squeezes it. Then she lays her head on my lap. I stare down at her blonde head in astonishment. Very slowly my hand lifts up and I lay it on her head. Her hair is silky. Awkwardly, I start to stroke her soft hair. Almost hypnotized, I watch my hand as it smooths the tangled gold strands.

  “I’m all alone, Cole. What’s going to happen to me now?” Taylor asks with a sniffle.

  I shake my head. “I don’t know, but you’ll always have me.”

  “Promise?”

  She turns her head and looks up at me. I stare into her wet eyes and I feel as fierce as a tiger. “I promise. No matter what happens around us I will always be there for you. I will take care of you and never let anything bad happen to you until the day I die.”

  Cole

  Present Day

  She looks up at me, her eyes enormous, and licks her lips. “Do you have a … condom?”

  I shake my head slowly. She doesn’t understand. She really doesn’t get it. “There has never been anything to come between us, not even a thin film of rubber, and there never will be.”

  I see her throat muscles work when she swallows hard. “That’s all right, I’m on the pill, anyway.”

  It hurts me to hear that. I’ve seen those other men being mentioned in the press. I blank out the thought. It is beneath me. Unworthy. I don’t give a shit about the other men. They don’t count. How can they? They were the gum she chewed without satisfaction and discarded quickly.

  The past doesn’t exist. It is only me and her. It has always been only me and her. A thousand men can enter her body, and it wouldn’t change a thing. She will always be mine. Bound forever. Body, mind, and soul.

  I run my finger along her plump bottom lip making her shiver. “You’re not going to fight me, are you?”

  She closes her eyes, takes a deep breath, then shakes her head.

  I reach for a glossy button on her little black jacket. Her body sways towards me. The round buttons slip out of their eyelets easily revealing the expensive silky dress underneath. I’ve never liked her in black and yet I keep seeing her in it. Something about the severity of the style grates on my nerves. I hook my fingers into the modest V neckline and tear it clean down the middle.

  She gasps with shock.

  Yes, Taylor, I was a boy then. I am a man now. A man who is taking what’s his. She lies on the single bed in her lacy, half-cup white bra and panties. All in white. That surprises me. I look into her eyes.

  “What?” she whispers.

  My nerve endings fire erratically. The intensity of my desire to pounce on her makes me sweat. Hell, my dick feels like a piece of fucking wood digging into my stomach. I touch her stomach and her warm skin trembles. “Why did you wear white?”

  She shrugs coolly, but her eyes slip away from mine. “No reason.”

  “Liar,” I mock softly.

  Color spreads up her neck and cheeks, and memories come crashing back. Of the first time I took her. Stripping her slowly. The cheap green blouse. The ripped blue jeans. Until she lay in her virginal cotton underwear. I remember confessing I can never resist her in white. Her giggling. ‘So I should always wear white underwear when I want to seduce you?’ Me not giggling, and replying. ‘Without exception.’

  I feel my body vibrating with the intensity of my desire.

  The bra has a front opening. I unclasp it and free her breasts. They are smaller than I remember. All of her is smaller than I remember. I kneel down and take a pink nipple in my mouth. She gasps, her body arching, her silken thighs falling open.

  Through her panties, I savor her heady scent and lick her swollen clit.

  “Cole,” she cries.

  I kiss and lap at her clothed crotch.

  Her hands are clawing at the bedspread. “Take it off,” she says, panting and squirming.

  “Tell me how bad you want me to eat you.”

  “Don’t make me beg, Cole,” she whines, turning her head from side to side.

  Goddamn, but she’s going to beg for it. I lick her pussy again, wetting the blonde curls.

  “Oh, yessss,” she hisses, jerking her hips with frustration.

  “Tell me you want my hot tongue deep inside you, Taylor.”

  She is too lust induced to deny me, or even care what she is saying anymore. Grinding, rubbing, and gyrating her hips restlessly against my mouth, she blindly gasps out, “Yes, please … please, get your tongue inside me. Like before. Deep inside. Eat me out, Cole … eat me out because I need it. It’s been so … so long.”

  Her body belongs to me. I have always been able to make it do exactly what I want. I pull to one side the scrap of lace between us. Underneath her pussy is as pink as a rose. Parting the soft folds, I expose her dripping entrance. I thought I was in control, but the sight of her throbbing core drives me wild.

  In one smooth movement my tongue dives deep into her eager pussy. She’s right: it’s been so damn long. She has no idea what it means to me to be back inside her again. To enjoy the taste and smell of her. All those painful years of terrible longing fall away as I lap at her nectar, savoring every sweet lick, devouring her.

  “Oh, Cole,” she moans again and again.

  I feel her thighs begin to quiver and her body arch. She is almost there. I push two fingers inside her. Sweet Jesus! She feels exactly the same. As tight as the first time I slipped a tentative finger into her virgin pussy. I find her g-spot and apply pressure to it while I suck her clit into my mouth.

  “Cole,” she groans, as she pushes her throbbing pussy against my flicking tongue.

  I feel her body climbing towards her peak. “Cum for me, Taylor. Let me see you break apart.”

  Instantly, her back becomes a bow, her legs lock around my head, and her mouth opens in a soundless scream. As wave after wave of pleasure hits her, warm liquid gushes out of her and runs down my mouth and chin. I’ve missed her taste. There is no other woman in the world who tastes like my Taylor. It is a deliciously long climax and I drink down her juices eagerly.

  Once her orgasm is entirely wrung out, and her body stops bucking, she touches one side of my face with her fingertips. So gently I can barely feel them as they trace my face, from my jaw up to my cheek.

  Her expression takes my breath away. I want to believe it. I know it is truth. This is how she truly feels. Everything else is just bullshit. The fame, the money, the adulation, that’s not real.

  I rip away the soaking wet lace before standing to gaze down at her, naked, sated, limp. Her legs are open and her pussy is swollen and still throbbing. I’ve been thinking about her this way as I stroked myself to release for years. I want Taylor’s naked body with every fiber of my being. I’ve always wanted her this way. Never at any time, has there been another woman for me.

  Only her.

  Her eyes burn into mine and her face has an erotic glow to it. She knows what’s coming and she’s as horny as a woman can get. I unzip my jeans and her eyes drop to my hands.

  I smile. “Open up for me, Taylor. Give me a show. Like you used to.”

  As I remove my clothes, never taking my eyes off her, she fondles herself while lifting her legs high and straight into the air, then she spreads them wide apart to show me her open pussy.

  “Rub your own clit.”

  She brings two fingers to her mouth and sucks them in. Memories come flooding back. Fuck, we had it so good and we never even knew. We were so stupid. She brings those wet fingers
to her swollen pussy and starts stroking herself. Her thighs are strong from all the grueling tours and stage performances she does, and she keeps the V straight and strong as I position myself between her thighs.

  “Hell, Taylor, I’m going to ride you so hard.”

  Grabbing my cock, I rub the tip in her wetness before moving to her entrance still glistening with her juices and my saliva. As her pussy clenches tightly around the head of my raw cock, I thrust fully into her, all the fucking way. She cries out, and I lean down and swallow her cry with my mouth. Her lips soften as my tongue sweeps inside her mouth, tasting her.

  I lift my head. “Relax. It’s just me, baby. You love my cock, remember?”

  “Yes, but go slow.”

  “I’ll go as fast as I want and you’ll take it. Ya’ hear me.”

  “Yes,” she grunts breathlessly.

  “Good, because I remember that your cunt is a greedy little thing and I intend to fill her with my cock all night.”

  At my forceful words her pussy squeezes and gushes onto my cock. Nothing has changed. Dirty talk still turns my Taylor on. I start to move in and out, my thrusts quick and shallow, until I feel her body begin to melt and open up for me.

  “That’s my girl. Now fuck me back.”

  I pull almost completely out of her and slam back in. A loud moan escapes her lips, but her body responds, her hips rise up to meet my plunges. She starts to match my speed as I go faster and faster. Her pussy grips my cock as strongly as a fist every time I withdraw out of her.

  “Fuck you feel so good. I’m going to fill you with my cum.”

  “Yes,” she whispers. “Yes, I want it.”

  We go at it until we are one sweaty, rutting pile of flesh. I feel her body curve and her throat stretch out as she gets close to her climax. It is an invitation. I lean in and bite her neck. That is all it takes. She screams out my name as she falls over the edge. I follow her, my cock pulsing streams of hot seed into her body.

  Taylor

  I come awake, but don’t open my eyes right away. If I do and find out I’m alone, it would all have been a dream. Some part of me believes what happened earlier doesn’t really happen in real life. No one is that lucky. That kind of intensity is just in the movies, or in the pages of romance novels.

  Call me cynical, but show business gives you a front row view of the ugly underbelly of human interactions. Just one layer beneath the shiny façade of the air-brushed, impossibly beautiful celebrity are bloody fangs and talons. I’m not a kid anymore. I’ve been around the block enough times to know there are no magical happy endings. Everybody is out for themselves. They can pretend to be your friend, but put them in a position of them or you and you soon see you have no friends. Cole is no friend of mine.

  Yet, it must have happened, because my body’s sore in that old ‘I just had sex with big ole Cole’ kind of way. The sort of sore that’s nothing to do with hours of getting my butt kicked by my personal trainer. A delicious sore, the sort of sore I could do with every day of my life.

  Judging from the sound of soft, rhythmic breathing behind me and warmth radiating from his body onto my naked skin, he’s still here with me too.

  I guess I always knew if I came back that I would sleep with him. I just thought I would have been able to resist him a bit longer. Not tumble like a house of cards at the first shot.

  I blame his eyes. Ugh, those eyes. Gold-flecked hazel, familiar, beautiful, and completely hypnotic. One look into them and I actually felt years of resolve melt away. I’ve never seen eyes like his on anybody else. And those eyes looked into mine when our bodies melded, when he was on me, and in me. Making me whisper his name.

  Cole. Oh, Cole.

  Again and again. As if it was some kind of holy chant.

  That was a moment of weakness, but now that the passion has passed there is nothing left. Nothing other than lost lust. I can’t forgive him for the past, hell I don’t want to. If there’s one thing I know, it’s that. I won’t be anybody’s doormat no matter how much I crave their body.

  I suddenly remember the smell of the alcohol on his breath. God, was he even sober when he showed up at the house? My mind engages with that thought and I spiral into self-doubt. Oh, my God! Did I just let Cole Finlay use me to slake his lust? Then another voice, wiser, cuts in. No way was he drunk. A drunk man couldn’t perform the way he did.

  He was stone cold sober.

  I open my eyes, and it is dark outside. Moonlight spills in through the windows. I squint at the clock on the wall. It is nearly ten, which means I’ve been asleep for hours. I must have been more tired than I thought.

  What do I do now?

  My insides tighten with a mixture of anxiety and excitement. The smart thing would be to slip out quietly and go straight to the hotel. Never see him again. Having an awkward post-mortem with Cole would be too much to deal with in my vulnerable state of mind. It would make everything I felt earlier seem … like a mistake. It was not a mistake. I’m not ashamed of my desire. I wanted him and I let myself take what I wanted.

  Now it is time to be strong, and walk away.

  The thought of leaving like a thief in the night fills my being with an old sadness. My heart starts aching for him. No matter how much I pretend to myself, the truth is always there, glaring at me.

  That I have never found any man, no matter how good-looking or rich, who can hold a candle to Cole. I cannot replace him because he remains the only one I let into my heart and who then proceeded to break it. They say the first cut is the deepest and it’s true. He was my first love, the man I trusted, adored, and would have done anything for.

  Not wanting to wake him up, I turn very slowly to look at him, and freeze.

  His eyes are open, alert, and watching.

  The sight makes my mind go utterly blank. Crap, crap, double crap. Needing to say something, anything, I open my mouth. Before I can articulate a single sound he lays a finger on my lips.

  “Don’t.”

  I stare at him wordlessly. Those hypnotic eyes suck me in, robbing me of speech, thought. His arms slide around me, pulling me to him. Oh, God, it feels so good—not just physically. My heart feels good. My soul. Something slips into place with an almost audible Click! when our bodies touch, his front to my back.

  “Since you’re booked to stay for two days at the hotel,” he murmurs in my ear.

  My mouth forms the word ‘how’.

  He looks amused. “Have you forgotten, Taylor? This isn’t LA. Everyone knows everyone’s business. As I was saying, since you’re down here anyway, unless you plan to get very bored, you should spend the next two days with me.”

  I frown. This, I did not expect. Does he expect us to just carry on where we left off before? “Are you crazy? I can’t forget, or forgive what you did, Cole.”

  His jaw hardens. “Don’t forgive or forget if you find it impossible, but you owe me these two days, Taylor.”

  I feel a surge of fury run through my body. “Owe you?” I explode. “After what you did? How dare you?”

  I try to jump out of the bed, but he grabs my shoulders and holds me tight. His expression doesn’t change. “I dare, because it is the truth. Just because I did one thing wrong, one mistake, it doesn’t cancel out everything else. Who took care of you for all those years? I put you before me. Every fucking time.”

  The anger leaves me as suddenly as it came. Cole is not lying. I do owe him. Big time. He protected and looked out for me. I don’t even know how I would have survived my childhood without him. I take a deep shuddering breath. “You hurt me, Cole.”

  A cloud passes his face. “I know and I’m very sorry. I wish it hadn’t happened that way, but it did, and there’s not a damn thing I can do about it now. Perhaps I never will be able to take away that hurt, but I damn well want to try to make it up to you.”

  “I can’t trust you, Cole. When I really needed you, you let me down.”

  “I’m not asking for your trust. I just want to spend two days wi
th you.”

  “What happens after the two days?”

  “If you don’t want anything more, then nothing. You can go back to LA and resume your life. I won’t stop you.”

  I hesitate. “I don’t know, Cole. Sometimes it is best to let sleeping dogs lie. Like you said we have both changed.”

  “Exactly. Isn’t it time we put the past behind us? We were kids then, Taylor. Two kids who didn’t know better. We’re adults now, and lots of things have changed, but one thing hasn’t: we’re both crazy about each other’s bodies. Why can’t we just have two days of mindless sex, then part as friends?”

  I bite my lip and consider his words. God, his offer is so tempting. I was only half alive without him. All these years I could never stop thinking of what might have been, never stop being angry with him for forcing me to break our relationship.

  I can’t go through the rest of my life hating him for something that happened so many years ago. We’re both mature now and it is very likely we’ll find that we are strangers who cannot get on anymore. Maybe these feelings I have for him have no basis in reality. All those warm memories are just a mirage. Yes, maybe it is a good idea. Then, I can leave this town and the past behind.

  “You have nothing to lose,” he says persuasively.

  “So this will just be a physical thing.”

  “It’ll be whatever you want it to be.”

  “I want it to be purely physical,” I confirm quickly, even though my heart hurts a little when I say it. It is not at all what I want it to be.

  “So be it. We will spend the next two days together then you will return to your life in LA.”

  “And you will return to yours.”

  “I will return to mine,” he echoes softly, and bending his head, takes my nipple in his mouth. Instantly, my body arches up towards him.

  Taylor

  11 Years Old

  “She hates me,” I say, loading a foam bullet into the Nerf gun and shooting Cole in the back of the head.