Someone to Love (26 page)

She caresses her hand over the bulge in my
jeans until there’s an ache in my gut only Kenny and her
unstoppable body can cure.

“I’d like to speak to the ‘head’ of police,
please.” She gives my crotch a gentle squeeze when she says it.

“Now?” I glance around at the empty room,
inspecting it for signs of unwanted life. The slotted windows, on
either door, afford a view of bodies milling in the hall.

Kenny pulls off her jeans with lightning
speed, leaving her sweater hanging low in the back. I’m caught off
guard by her over-eagerness to please.

“I checked the schedule.” She lowers her
lids, already thirsting for more. “This room sits empty for the
next four hours.”

“Kenny…” I tick back a notch, wondering why
the hell I’m even implying a protest. “You’re still sore.”

“I’m over it.” She bites her lip until all
color bleeds out then slowly releases.

“You’re lying.”

“Do you care?”

“A little.” Okay, a lot, but she’s ground
down my defenses with that smoldering look in her eye. I want her
bad and am willing to risk everything I’ve worked for at Garrison
to have her right here in the classroom that the powers that be had
the poor judgment to gift me with.

“Desk or chair?” Her breathing grows rapid as
she moves her hips in time with mine like we’re dancing.

“Most definitely desk.” I cup my hands over
her bare bottom, and she takes in a quick breath.

Kenny slides onto the desk without ever
taking her eyes from mine. She pulls me between her smooth silken
legs, and I burst out of my boxers like a wound-up spring. She
guides me into her body, tight and wet, and that alone evicts a
groan from deep in my gut.

I’ve had sex at Garrison before. I’m not too
proud of the time I spent in the many janitorial closets or the new
wing of the music department while it stalled in construction, but
this is Kenny opening her wings for me like a dove. I can’t get
inside her fast enough, deep enough. Just knowing its Kenny I’m
experiencing this with makes it the only time that matters.

I knead my hands into her hips, pull her
forward and indulge in a deep, strong plunge that makes me groan a
little louder than intended. I try to ease in and out, glide my way
to ecstasy, but I’ve crossed the line and it’s impossible to slow
down now. I sink my hand over her warm slick and rub until she’s
along for the ride. I want Kenny to remember the thrill of the
moment, experience every good sensation right along with me. Every
time she looks at this desk, I want her to blush ten shades of
crimson.

I wait for her until she’s almost there, but
the tiny whimpers, the strangled moans that wrench from her are
driving me insane. I push in and spasm over her, blowing a
sharpened breath in her ear. She shivers beneath me and trembles
while clutching at my shirt as if she were about to die.

I pull back and lock onto her lethargic eyes,
clear as ice. She looks stoned, drugged out of her ever-loving mind
for me.

“Let the record show I don’t go easy on
criminals,” I pant.

“Let the record show”—she leans in and
whispers—“I don’t give a flying
fuck
about your badge.” She
bows into me with her words, and I fire up again like an
engine.

I press a kiss against her ear. “Sentencing
for your crimes will begin this evening. Be warned, I specialize in
cruel and unusual punishments.”

She looks up with a devilish grin. “Oh, I’m
counting on it.”

The bad boy in me perks to attention, and I
give a little laugh. “I loved you the minute I saw you, Kenny. And
now I know why.”

She brands me with her lips, and I push into
her all over again.

Kendall

Hat Trick

Okay.

Don’t panic.

I’m sure there’s no real injury taking place
in my baby-making station. It just feels as though I’ve managed to
sterilize myself forever thanks to the self-inflicted ulcers.

I try to engage in even-keeled breathing as I
walk into my final class of the day where I secretly plan on
tracing out Cruise’s body in lieu of the relic they have posing for
his birthday suit pictorial. I don’t pay much attention to the
women.

I’m hoping at some point technique will be
integrated into the lessons, but I’m guessing that’s not today
since I spot Professor Webber near the back toking off a hookah.
God, I hope there’s something legal floating around in that
oversized bong of hers.

I’m still hopped up on my exchange with
“Professor Elton.” And that
syllabus
entailed quite a
laundry list of public facilities—the library, the staff lounge—the
tower.

Blair gives a friendly wave, and I head on
over.

“Saw you this morning in the coffee shop,” I
say, dropping my book bag, and a myriad of loose papers vomit out.
Gah! Just the thought of bending over and dealing with it sets my
nether regions on fire. Blair starts to scoop things up for me.
“Don’t worry, I’ll get it in a second.”

The two newest victims to be inaugurated in
Webber’s exclusive nudist for hire ring strut out of the makeshift
closet, clutching at the signature purple robes, and oh my God,
they’re ancient! A series of low-lying gasps erupt once they drop
trou, sort of like it did with Cruise, but well, for entirely
different reasons. Honest to God, there’s a crypt keeper out there
somewhere who is not doing his freaking job.

Their bodies are a strange hue of grey, and
they have more folds of skin than a litter of Shar-Pei puppies.
Their limbs have odd bruising on them, and their gnarled fingers
are nothing but skin over bone, green and purple with blooms of
yellow interspersed. It’s safe to say they’ve taken decomposing and
turned it into a performance piece.

“So what did you say you were studying
again?” Blair scoots her bench into mine with a reserved sense of
calm, as if we didn’t just bear witness to a double reanimation. I
totally envision two empty caskets with the words “flight risk”
slapped across the front. “I set out your papers for you.” She
points up at my easel.

“Thanks.” Blair is such a nice person. I can
totally see her hanging out with Lauren, Ally, and me. I can’t
believe how fantastic everything is in my life now. “I’m studying
boys,” I whisper. “One boy in particular.”

“Oh?” Her dark eyes round out. “It’s not Mr.
Glad to See You, is it?” She gives a knowing laugh. “That was wild,
by the way.”

“That would be him—and, believe me, he’s
very, very wild.” My body experiences a private summer as a Cruise
inspired heat wave takes over. “Especially in bed,” I whisper that
last part so low it’s almost inaudible.

“I thought you said you were a virgin?” She
snaps it out as if I misrepresented my citizenship in the land of
Not-So-Wholesome Milk and Money, A.K.A Garrison. “I mean, you
implied it. It’s a big virtue, so I thought it was pretty cool and
stuff.”

“Well, I was.” I pinch a quick smile. “But
I’m not anymore. He’s a god, so how could I resist. You did see
him, right?” It comes out more fact, less question.

“Oh, it was ‘hard’ to miss.” She glances down
and sweeps the floor with a look of irritation. “I tried to save it
once, and it all went haywire.”

“I’m sorry.” I touch my chest appalled by the
fact I’m inadvertently rubbing my perfect boyfriend in her face
when it’s obvious she’s coming off some big emotional breakup. “I’m
sure your Mr. Right will walk through the door any day now.”

She glances up and her eyes widen; a
villainous smile twitches on her lips. “So he will.”

I follow her gaze and spot Cruise sharing a
few brief words with Professor Webber. He looks visibly rattled as
he speeds in my direction.

I bolt to his side, still out of breath from
our erotic “in class” encounter.

“What’s going on?”

“My sister called.” His face reduces to an
ashen shade. “She says there’s some kind of emergency back at the
house. I need to take off.”

“I’ll come with,” I say, happy to abandon an
entire hour of geriatric studies.

I snatch up my book bag and run out the door
with him.

The snow molds over the hills, smooth and
sweet, like a Valentine. The world is lost in the blue and purple
hues of late afternoon but the closer we get to home, there’s a
caustic, amber glow that casts blinking shadows over the horizon
and my heart seizes. Everything was going so well and now there’s
danger. A siren goes off in the distance as it screams its way
over. It’s almost as if the cruel world were whispering that this
fairytale I had embroiled myself in is too good to be true. And
deep down inside, I sensed this all along. I can see the
handwriting on the proverbial wall—in the snow banks as they clap
in reds and blues, even the wind blows a little harder here as the
evergreens scold me with their needle-like protrusions. They all
say the same thing. Tragedies occur, even here. This place wasn’t
special—neither was I.

Face it, Cruise and I probably stand as much
of a chance as my mother and her revolving door relationships.

When we finally arrive at the Elton Bed and
Breakfast, we’re horrified to find a small army of paramedics and
fireman have overrun the property.

“Shit.” Cruise dips into the windshield
disbelieving. “Molly said it wasn’t that big a deal.”

I want to say,
that’s because she’s got a
forked tongue
, but don’t. I bite the inside of my cheek
instead, as we take in the melee.

“Jeez,” I say as they pull a stretcher out of
the wide mouth of the ambulance.

Cruise and I speed our way over. I’ve never
been to the bed and breakfast before. I’ve sort of been behind the
scenes, literally.

The Victorian style building, with its sunny
disposition, looms larger than life as we barrel past the litany of
emergency crew workers.

Molly straggles outside, looking frightened
out of her mind.

Cruise snatches her by the shoulders. “What
happened? Where’s Mom?”

“She’s inside. She fell.”

Cruise races past her, and we follow.

At the base of the entry, sits his poor
mother, howling in pain as several EMTs struggle to land her on a
gurney. She lets out a deafening bellow as they count to three and
swing her just the way my brother used to maneuver me before
throwing me in the pool.

“I’m okay.” She clutches at Cruise, digging
her freshly manicured nails in his flesh like she’s totally not.
“Fell from the top, lucky I didn’t damn near kill myself. Just
twisted an ankle, that’s all.”

“You could’ve broken your neck,” Cruise says,
glancing up at the uniformed technician to affirm his
spine-snapping theory.

“You never know”—the EMT ratchets up the
gurney, and Sam lets out a riotous cry—“X-rays might show exactly
that.”