Forever With You (Silver State Series) (21 page)

Kyle – Saturday, 11:30 PM

T
hank God I only did the one shot – I would’ve hated myself had I been unable to drive and forced to take Tawny to some gross frat boy’s bedroom instead.

The second we cross the threshold into my dark, empty house, the charge that’s been zinging between us becomes all the more palpable, and a dull ringing starts in my ears.

“Do you want anything to drink?” I ask in a hushed tone.

She seems to think for a moment before whispering back, “I’ll have a beer please.”

If I wasn’t already buzzing from the double shot I did earlier, compounded by the staggering physical desire pent up inside me right now, I might question the wisdom of giving her more alcohol.  As it is, though, my only response is, “Coming right up.” 

I walk back to the kitchen, leaving Tawny to kick off her shoes in the rectangle of moonlight cast by the front window.  I feel my way to the fridge, using the glowing lights on the microwave and oven to guide me, then squint against the cold, harsh light that pours through the crack in the door when I open it.  I grab a couple of Stellas from the crisper drawer and wrench the tops off.  When I return to the living room carrying both bottles, Tawny has removed her jacket and is standing barefoot next to the TV, gazing at the painting that hangs on the wall above it.  It’s an abstract rendering of the San Francisco skyline that was apparently painted by one of Shelley’s dad’s friends.

“For you,” I say, holding out Tawny’s beer.  She reaches for it with a half-smile, and we clink bottles before lifting them to our lips.  I take a quick pull on mine, then watch with surprise as Tawny takes several gulps in succession, the muscles in her neck moving up and down.

“Thirsty?” I ask with some amusement when she finally lowers the bottle and uses her fingers to wipe the wetness from her full lips.

She laughs a little; my eyes drop to her legs as she picks one foot up off the floor and uses her toes to scratch a place on her calf. 
Why is that so ridiculously sexy?
  

Without looking I take the beer from Tawny’s hand and place it along with mine on top of the TV stand.  My hands now empty, I circle her waist with my fingers and pull her pelvis up against mine.  My body hums with the same high-voltage current I’m quickly beginning to correlate with my proximity to her.

Without a second’s hesitation I cover the remaining distance between our lips and press against her with a kiss that’s as needy as it is passionate.

Tawny – Saturday, 11:30 PM

I
wrap my arms around the back of Kyle’s neck, pressing the full length of my body against his, and he responds in kind, deepening our kiss while squeezing me so tightly I wonder whether it might be possible for our two bodies to meld together as one.  After a moment his hands slide downward to grip my butt, and he hauls me up against his chest with a mighty heave, using his fingers on my inner thighs to prod my legs apart.  I hitch my legs around his waist and cross my ankles behind him, then lower my head to once more find his lips, my fingers knotting in his hair.

We begin to move.  Kyle clutches me tighter, still kissing me as he feels his way down the hallway to his bedroom and finds the light switch inside the door.  The floor lamp in the corner comes on, casting a pool of dim yellow light on the unmade bed.

My head is pounding with desire and intoxicated expectation.  I look at Kyle – his entire body seems to contract and expand with each ragged breath as he stares back at me with equal yearning.

Suddenly the weight of my earrings tugging at my lobes seems too much to bare – it’s strange the things your mind zeroes in on as important when it’s under the influence of alcohol.  I reach up and unfasten the hoops with a flick of my thumbs, then cross to the desk to set them down.  When I get there I notice Kyle’s camera lying next to his laptop.  I pick it up, weigh it in my hands, then hold the viewfinder to my eye and swivel around.  Kyle is still watching me as he balances on the corner of the bed and begins to unlace his boots.  My fingers graze the buttons on the camera until they stumble over the on/off switch.  Kyle starts in surprise when the shutter clicks, then a diabolical grin slides slowly over his face.

“Are you taking my picture?” he asks, his voice gravelly.

Instead of responding I simply snap another one.  My heartbeat crescendos as he begins to act the part, stripping off his shirt and unbuckling his belt with exaggerated slowness.  He drops his gaze to unbutton and unzip his pants, but afterward he doesn’t move his hands; instead, he glances back up at me without lifting his head, his face arranged in an expression that’s overtly provocative.

He struts toward me, and I allow him to take the camera from my hands, dying for him to touch me.  He doesn’t, though.  Instead he takes a step back and lifts the camera to his own eye.  “Your turn,” he whispers.

I step backward, stumbling a bit.  My eyes rake over his body, from his naked chest to his subtly chiseled abs.  I draw my strength from the bulge straining to be released from his boxers – and suddenly I feel invincible.

Kyle – Saturday, 11:45 PM

T
awny turns around so she’s facing away from me.  Her shoulder blades jut out as she reaches behind and begins to slowly tug on the zipper that runs down the middle of her back.  She unzips it all the way down to the middle of her ass; my breath hitches when I see she’s wearing a black G-string.  For a moment she just stands there, one leg bent, her chin resting against her shoulder, allowing me time to appreciate the V-shaped expanse of bare skin bared by the part in the fabric.

Her fingers play at the hem of her dress.  I find myself holding my breath, waiting for the moment when she reveals every inch of her body.  A low moan escapes me when she finally tugs at the fabric and sways her hips from side to side as she shimmies out of it.  I watch through the viewfinder as she turns, but only slightly, so the curve of her breast is just visible.  She pauses before pivoting to face me.  I exhale deeply, struggling to remain in control of my senses, and lower the camera, unsure how comfortable she’d be with me documenting her frontal nudity.

She takes a few steps forward but veers off before she reaches me,
teasing
me.  I watch questioningly as she continues toward the window, where my tripod is set up – earlier I’d been taking some test shots of the cat with my low-light portrait lens.  Her fingers stroke over the cradle where the camera fits in; she’s biting her lip and gazing at it as if she’s lost in thought.

“Tell me what you’re thinking,” I say softly, my eyes darting to her erect nipples, aching to touch them.

“Just wondering…” she says, “Have you ever…filmed yourself?”

My heart rate triples.
 
“Filmed myself…?”   I have to remind myself to slow the fuck down and breathe.  I mean, there’s really no telling where she’s going with this – although I think I can guess.
 Spell it out for me, baby. 

“You know – having sex?” she says, not bothering to mince words the way she would if she was sober.

Oh God
.

For a moment I forget to speak.  Finally I clear my throat.  “No,” I reply, my voice barely louder than a whisper.

“Do you think you’d ever want to?” she presses, her eyes still on the tripod.  My mouth goes dry and my cock pulses as I watch her grip the pan handle and stroke slowly downward.

Jesus Christ, don’t fuck this up, Kyle
.  I take a deep breath.  “Yeah, I’d want to,” I manage to choke out, albeit weakly.  My vision is beginning to blur with rampant lust.

Tawny glances up at me, her blue eyes scorching.  She proffers her hand, and it takes me a moment to realize she’s reaching for the camera in my hands.  I swallow hard as I pass it to her, then watch as she tries to work out how to latch it into the plate.  After a few seconds I take one large step forward and cover her hands with my own, helping her fit the parts together.

Once the camera is mounted, Tawny pushes on the pan handle, angling the lens toward the empty space next to the bed.  She inspects the controls until she finds the switch for video mode, then looks back at me, her eyes dripping with power and sex and craving as her finger hovers over the button with the red dot.

Tawny – Sunday, 12:00 AM

W
hat.  A.  Rush.  I’ve got Kyle eating out of the palm of my hand, and that hadn’t even been my goal.  It could be that my judgment is impaired, and I may end up regretting this later, but at the moment I can’t bring myself to grant that prospect more than a passing thought.  For some reason when I glimpsed the tripod in front of the window, something clicked in my head (
10 Sex Cravings All Guys Have –
“He wants you to be naughty.”  Did I dream that?). 

Kyle spreads his hand against the small of my back; he drops it to palm the curve of my bottom as he crushes himself against me.  “Are you sure, Tawny?” he asks hoarsely.

“I’m sure,” I reply.  “…If you want to.”

He draws back and looks at me, but only for a split second – then he drops his mouth to my neck and begins to cover me with fevered kisses, stopping only momentarily to drag his tongue up the side of my neck to the line of my jaw.

He breaks away, panting, and pushes back against me gently.  “Stand right over there, okay?” he says, pointing to the spot on the floor where the camera is directed.

I comply, stepping over his crumpled shirt to stand beside the bed.  I admire the outline of Kyle’s lean muscles as he twists his torso and leans over to see the display on the back of the camera.  He makes a couple of minor adjustments, fiddling with the focus ring on the lens – then presses the button. 
Show time
.

I hold my breath as I wait for him to choose a playlist on his computer and join me before the camera’s watchful eye.  As Radiohead’s “Everything in Its Right Place” begins to play, he starts kissing me.  At first I feel stiff and self-conscious, the way I had on the dance floor earlier.  As his hands move, though, memorizing my every line, curve and hollow through touch alone, the knot inside me begins to unravel.

I shove his pants down, and Kyle leans over only briefly to kick them the rest of the way off.  I smooth my hands over the outside of his boxers, until a moment later Kyle takes my hand in his and slips it down the inside of his underwear.  I emit a guttural moan as my fingers come in contact with his rigid arousal.  Thinking of the camera, I use my other hand to lower his boxers so he can be seen as I massage up and down.

When I shove Kyle back on the bed, his legs dangle over the edge of the mattress, and I kneel in front of him to remove his boxers.  Kyle leans back on his elbows; his head lolls back as I take him in my mouth.  I find myself unconsciously angling ever-so-subtly toward the camera, showing off his wet cock as I roll it against my tongue and slide it between my lips.  Meanwhile, Kyle cups the back of my neck, urging me on without pushing.  After a moment his elbows go out from under him, and he lies back flat, groaning with pleasure.

I don’t want him to come yet, though – so I stop.  Kyle lifts his head to look at me as I climb back up to my feet.  He sits up and grabs my waist, flipping me on my back against the bed next to him.  Now he crouches between my legs and clutches my thighs as he begins to remove my panties – with his
teeth
.  A shiver racks through my body, and I whimper as he
slowly
tugs them down to my knees, then uses his hand to slip them the rest of the way off.

Kyle rocks back up onto his heels, then draws himself up to standing.  He positions himself between my thighs and stares down at me, his erection pointing at me as if in accusation.  I lift my legs and plant my heels on the edge of the mattress, then spread my knees apart.  I watch Kyle’s face as I walk my fingers down my stomach, over the curve of my hip, and then begin to stroke myself.  He sucks in a breath and closes his eyes, possibly in an attempt to regain control of his senses, before allowing his eyelids to flutter open again. 

I’m surprised when, a moment later, Kyle roughly flings my hand aside and leans forward.  I hasten to scramble backward on the mattress, making room for him as he dips himself between my legs.  We both moan when his head finds my opening and begins to slip inside.  He penetrates deeper, burying himself to the hilt, then slides all the way out again.

“God, it feels so good,” he murmurs, his gaze cast downward as he repeats the same motion.  He does it twice, maybe three times more, then stops and peers down at me.

“I want you on top,” he says.  “I want you to fuck me.”

His words trigger a shudder that starts at the base of my spine and ripples upward and outward, finally pooling with the warmth between my legs.  Goaded by the blinking red light on the camera, I take extra care in switching places with him, paying special attention to the positioning of my body as I flaunt certain features to maximal effect.  Kyle seems captivated by my display of braggadocio.

I straddle his lap, and he sits up and pulls my right nipple between his teeth, then swirls his tongue over it before turning to the left.  He leans back again, a devilish spark in his eye. 

I begin to grind tentatively against him while Kyle’s eyes flicker between my face and the parts of our bodies that are joined in the slick heat we’ve created together.  “That’s it, baby,” he says softly.  “It’s your ride.”

I begin to twist my hips from side to side, basking in the way Kyle’s fingers dig into my hips and his face contorts in bliss.  Mindful of the camera, I run my hands up the sides of my stomach, lengthening my torso, then pause to fondle my breasts before grasping the back of my neck and sweeping my hair off my shoulders and piling it on top of my head.  Kyle seems unable to look away – his eyes scrape adoringly over the whole of my body.