Eight

McKenzie

“I had a nice time tonight,” I say, standing beside West’s car. It’s almost time for my dad to get home, and I don’t think he’d be too happy to see a guy in our house after midnight.

“Nice enough to want to do it again? Maybe tomorrow night?” West wraps his arms around me, and my shivering body begins to warm.

“Depends on if I get to drive or not.”

“You can pick me up, if you want.” He grins and kisses my forehead. “Your truck is much roomier than mine.”

Why would we need a bigger vehicle? “Roomier for what?”

He laughs softly. “God, you’re innocent.”

“Oh… oh.” I bump him with my hip. “You’re so cocky.”

“Damn right I am.”

“How can any female resist that?”

“Tomorrow?”

“Yes,” I say with a firm nod. “I’ll go out with you again.”

He steps away, and I wish that his kiss had travelled lower. “Be prepared to have the pants charmed off you.”

“Just my pants?” I tease and then slap my hand over my mouth. I did not just say that to him.

He wiggles his brows. “Hopefully more than that.” Opening the car door, he starts to get in and then turns to look at me. “Don’t be afraid to be yourself with me, or flirt, or say whatever crosses your mind. Okay?”

For some reason I want to cry, and I have to bite the inside of my cheek to stop myself from doing it. “’Kay.”

“And McKenzie?”

“Yes?”

He lets go of the door, strides right up to me, and kisses me for so long and so hard that I forget all the reasons why I shouldn’t be kissing him. All the reasons why I shouldn’t want to kiss him.

Finally, he pulls away, and presses the palm of his hand to my heart. “Good.”

“My heart is beating like I’ve just shoveled an entire mound of top soil and you’re happy?”

In answer, he takes my hand and flattens it over his chest. We’re standing there, palm to palm, heart to heart. His heart races beneath my hand, thumping hard against his chest.

“That’s what it does every time I’m with you.”

The next evening, West picks me up at six and drives into the city. We go to a posh restaurant with beautiful place settings and servers who scrape off the tablecloths with small, flat metal bars that are curved at the bottom every chance they get.

West and I talk about everything, nothing’s off-topic. Not high school, not college, not even his former relationship with Charlie. He even reveals that he didn’t actually want to go to Georgetown, but his dad had insisted, wanting to create a tradition for years to come.

“I couldn’t disappoint him,” he says. “But I wanted to go to Carolina.”

“So transfer,” I say, stabbing at my steak. “I’m sure he’ll understand.”

“Maybe I’ll let you talk to him for me.”

“If you want.” I smile over my glass of water, and he winks at me. I don’t think I’ll ever get used to him doing that.

“What about you?”

“This is my last year, I’ll have an associate’s degree in office management and then I plan on helping my dad run Walsh’s.”

“Just like that?”

I nod and set my glass down. “Just like that.”

“Maybe you can hire me as your C.P.A.”

“Won’t you be travelling the world, soccer star?”

His chocolate eyes travel down my face, to my neck, and lower still to the flash of bare skin that rises above my neckline. “I don’t know. Seems like there’s an entire world I could spend time exploring right here.” Suddenly, I feel his hand on my knee, slowly gliding up my bare leg.

My nipples tighten, and I squirm in my seat, trying to relieve the pressure between my thighs.

“Do you want me to stop?” he whispers, the tips of his fingers at the edge of my skirt. “Or should I keep going? Maybe have a little dessert before dessert?”

“I-I—”

The server appears, with his scraper, and West sits up, his hand now on his glass. I press my hands against my cheeks, trying to cool them, but unless I dump the entire glass of water on my head, there’s no other help for it.

“Dessert?” the server asks.

This time I look at West. What could it hurt to flirt with him, to take this date to as far as I dare? Gazing into his eyes, I say, “Yes, I’d love to have some dessert, and I know he would, too.”

Once dessert is served, West pushes a blue box across the table. I recognize the packaging and my eyes go wide.

“Is that from—?”

“Open it, please.”

Hands shaking, I do. Nestled inside is a pair of dainty earrings shaped like flower blossoms. They’re pink with white stones in the middle. “These are beautiful.”

“I didn’t know your birthstone, so I went with pink topaz and diamonds. I hope that’s okay.”

“It’s more than okay, but I didn’t get you anything.”

“Going on a second date with me is more than I deserve. You owe me nothing in return, McKenzie. Nothing,” he says quietly, and the ice around my heart melts a little more.

After driving back to Forrestville, I fully expect him to take me home, and I fully expect to be perfectly fine with it.

Our earlier flirting and banter has transitioned into more mundane conversation, like work and classes.

“I had a really nice time tonight. Thank you for giving me the chance to get to know you a little better. I won’t pester you anymore,” he says with finality in his voice, and I panic.

“Are your parents home?”

“No,” he says, his voice growing rough. “They’re gone for the week, couples retreat at The Grove Park Inn, and won’t be back until next Thursday. Why?”

“Because,” I say, licking my lips and trying again. “Because.”

“Please,” I think I hear him whisper.

“I told my dad I was spending the night at Julia’s, that you were dropping me off there.” Not a complete lie. I had told my dad I’d most likely go over to Julia’s after my date with West.

“So you want me to take you—”

“To your house,” I say, throwing all caution, all rational thought to the wind. “I want to spend the night with you.”

I’ve never seen someone drive so fast yet so carefully.

West weaves in and out of traffic like a pro. “Beau Montgomery taught me.”

“Of course you know him.” Because who else would live in The Oaks but NASCAR royalty?

“Don’t… just don’t start thinking about that.”

I take his hand. “I’m not. It was an observation, nothing more. I’m not changing my mind.”

Another hard left, and we’re in his neighborhood, then in his driveway. Letting go of my hand, he throws open his door and races around to mine, pulling me out and swooping me up in his arms.

“I’m not changing my mind,” I assure him again.

He presses a series of numbers on an outdoor keypad, and the door clicks open. He takes two steps inside and sets me on my feet, kissing the top of my head before shutting the door.

I take his hand and he leads the way to his room.

“You can, you know,” he says as we climb the stairs. “You can change your mind at any time.”

“I’m not drunk, West. I know exactly what I’m doing,” I say, once we’re in his room.

He shuts the door, then locks it and looks at me. “That’s to keep people out, not you in.”

“Why do you keep saying stuff like that?” I wrap my arms around him and feel his body shake. “I want to be here.”

“Because for too long, everyone else had power over you. It’s your turn.”

I lean back. “So I’m in charge?”

He nods.

“Then strip.”

Immediately, he gets as nude as the day he was born, and shows me exactly how excited he is.

“Wow.” I can’t stop looking at him, where he’s hard and huge. And hung. And huge. And oh dear God. What am I going to do with that? “I think you need to take over now.”

My gaze flickers to him, and instead of a smug smile, all I see is a raw need for me. Slowly, he unzips the side of my dress, his hands following the contours of my body as he does.

As he pushes the material over my shoulders, he kisses each side, and I tremble. My thighs grow slick as I stand there, wearing nothing but a lacy black bra, matching thong, and heels.

“Next time, I think I’ll let you keep the heels on,” he murmurs.

I take off my heels, push them to the side, and face him once more.

Then he touches me, tracing a line from my neck, down the center of my chest, to my stomach and lower, until he cups me and groans his approval. “You’re soaking your panties.”

“That’s all your fault.” He kneels in front of me, and my hands go to his shoulders to balance myself as he pulls the flimsy lace down. I step out of them, and he throws my thong across the room.

Cupping my hips, he pulls me closer. I fight the urge to cover myself, then I give up and place my hand over the curls between my legs.

“Don’t do that, baby.” He licks the space between each finger. “I want to taste you.”

“I’m not… that is… you’re the only… ah…”

His head jerks up. “I’m the only one you’ve ever been with?”

I nod, my face fiery red now, and wait for him to laugh or ask what’s wrong with me. Only he doesn’t do any of those things.

Instead, he leans his head against my thigh and exhales. “I’m sorry, sweetheart.” His eyes close, long lashes tickling my skin.

“Are we done, then?”

His eyes snap open. “Hell, no.”

In one smooth movement, he stands, unsnaps my bra, and fastens his mouth to mine. The back of my knees hit his bed and I fall down, West tumbling with me.

Our bare skin presses against one another, my breasts to his chest, his hardness to my softness.

“You feel so damn good.” He takes my mouth again, his tongue plunging inside, while his fingers cup me between my legs.

A long finger thrusts inside of me and I gasp into his mouth, then he pushes a second one in. I grip his biceps, the initial sting wearing away to something more pleasurable.

In and out he moves, his fingers curling, finding a spot that makes me cry out and move my hips restlessly against his.

“There you go,” he says, his voice rough.

He presses open-mouthed, hot kisses against my jaw and throat…making his way down my chest to find my hard nipples. He sucks one deep into the hot recesses of his mouth, and I dig my nails into his skin.

Still his fingers move in that same spot, making me wetter, making my head thrash back and forth, as I sob his name. I’m so close, so close. Suddenly, he slides all the way down my body and puts his mouth on me, licking my clit firmly.

I go over the edge, clawing at the bedcovers. I barely have time to recover before I hear the crinkle of a wrapper. He’s over me, pushing into me, and I’m spreading my legs wider, wanting him as deep as he can get.

My head falls back, the pleasure/pain of him stretching me as I try to accommodate his size overwhelming. His breath is harsh against my ear.

He rolls over, pulling me on top of him, gripping my hips tight, so tight I’ll have marks on my skin. “Ride me… ride me hard.”

I place my hands on his broad chest, but instead of moving, I lean down and lick his nipples, take one into my mouth and bite the tip. He jerks beneath me, begging me to screw him senseless, only he uses a different word.

“Now, McKenzie, I’m about to—”

I sit up, and rock hard upon him, my hips moving in an awkward rhythm, until he helps me find the right one.

“Lean forward,” he orders and I comply.

My breasts brush his face and he buries his face between them, licking the valley of skin. He turns his head to suck on a nipple as I ride him. A corresponding tug from where we are joined makes me squeal.

He swells inside of me, and I bear down.

“Sit up, sit up… need to see you.”

I raise my hands above my head, rocking my hips to his rhythm and let them down slowly, caressing my breasts, pinching my nipples, and arching my back.

“So damn sexy.”

My hair brushes his thighs, and he shoves his cock into me, rubbing his thumb against my swollen clit. I cry out, coming hard and seeing nothing, yet entirely aware of everything.

He grunts, groans, and growls a string of curses as he orgasms. His hands travel up and down my back, bringing me to him. He kisses my cheek, my lips, and my nose. Sweet, loving tokens of affection that set my heart free.

“McKenzie,” he whispers as we roll to the side. “McKenzie, McKenzie, McKenzie.” It’s like my name is a prayer or a plea.

“I’m here. I’m here. I’m here,” I assure him. I’m not going anywhere. Not after this.

“Stay with me.”

I nod, kiss his lips, and snuggle against him. “Forever.”

Toward dawn, he wakes me again, his mouth between my thighs and his hands on my breasts. I cry out my pleasure, but he keeps going, making me come again and again, until I’m begging him to stop—to put his cock inside of me.

“I need you,” I say.

He lifts my legs over his shoulders and thrusts deep. My hips lift off the bed. “Sore?”

“A little.”

“Good.” He does something with his hips that makes my eyes roll into the back of my head. “Because I’m not done with you.”

“I’m not done with you either.” I bite his arm.

He pulls out of me, flips me on my stomach, shoves a pillow under my hips, and mounts me from behind. “Ready for your next ride?”

All I can do is moan in answer.