Girl By Any Other Name Page 17

  “I can’t believe you wanted it.”

  “It’s not mine. The painting is yours. I was just saving it for you.”

  I trailed kisses down her long slender neck. Being this close to her without touching her was impossible. “I’ve had it with me wherever I went. You have no idea how much shit I got for being the only guy in a college dorm with an oil painting.”

  She giggled, and the small vibration made my erection ache for her. “Acrylic actually.”

  “I stand corrected.”

  She turned and wrapped her arms around me. She brushed her lips against mine. I deepened the kiss, crushing my mouth against hers. She shivered. I groaned. My erection strained against my jeans. I pushed up her shirt and leaned her against the wall. God, I wanted her more than I’ve ever wanted anything in my life.

  Her hands pushed against my chest. I released her. “What’s wrong? Am I moving too fast?”

  “Not at all.”

  “Then what?”

  A blush crept along her face. “Caleb Tanner, if you think I’m going to shag you while my mom watches then you’ve got another thing coming.”

  I shook my head, unable to hide my smile. She stood in front of me with her hands on her hips, looking so determined. “Fine,” I conceded. I carefully lifted the painting off the wall and turned it around. “Better?” I asked.

  She shook her head. “Can you take it out of the room, please?”

  “As you wish.” I smiled at my shy, beautiful girl. I moved the portrait to the living room. When I returned, she was leaned against the back wall, crooking a finger at me. She didn’t need to ask me twice. I walked to her. Fuck. I wanted to run, pick her up, and throw her on my bed. But we should take our time. Now that we had time.

  She unbuttoned my shirt, her fingers shaking with each movement until it became excruciating. Finally, I ripped the damn thing off. The buttons flew everywhere, but I didn’t give a damn. Then I lifted off her T-shirt.

  She wore a silky pink and black lace bra. All the physical activity I’d done today combined with the emotional drain of all the revelations did nothing to dampen my need. But I was exhausted enough to make sure this would be a slow, steady release of desire, just the way I wanted it.

  She placed her hands on my chest and trailed them down my body with slow precision. “You feel like marble or granite.”

  “It was better in high school,” I replied.

  “I don’t think so.”

  I slipped my finger under the strap of her bra. “I like this bra. It’s so freaking—”

  “Pretty?” she asked.

  “Naw, pretty isn’t the right adjective. It’s beautiful…just like you. I’m trying to decide if I want to leave it on or take it off.”

  “I vote for taking it off.”

  I laughed and slid my fingers to the back, removing the hooks. I stepped away slightly so I could watch as it fell off her shoulders. I was glad I did. Sylvie’s breasts were perfect. They were round, bouncy, fleshy orbs with pink rosebud nipples in the center. My fingers grazed them, flicking her nipples. She moaned, and I moved my mouth to that area and ran my tongue over her nipples. I sucked leisurely, giving each one equal attention. Her fingers made their way to my shoulders where she dug them into my skin with each movement. I reached for the button of her denim shorts, released it, and unzipped her. They fell to the floor, right past her boots, revealing the sweetest pink panties I’d ever seen.

  I licked my lips, unable to stop from growling as I picked her up and swung her over my shoulder. I tossed her on my bed, expecting to hear her laugh, but the look she gave me wasn’t one of amusement. It was pure, yearning lust, and I loved it because it matched my own. I removed my jeans and boxers in record time, never taking my eyes off her.

  She slapped her hand against her mouth in surprise when she stared at my cock standing at attention for her. Her eyes widened, and her face broke out into an interesting shade of crimson. “Wow.”

  “Ironically, you always accuse me of being cocky, so I’ll refrain from responding, except to say I’m happy you’re pleased.”

  “I am.” I walked over to the nightstand to retrieve a condom so I’d have it ready. I had no intention of putting it on just yet. There was so much more to touch and taste of her tonight.

  Her reaction to my naked body caught me a bit off guard, though. She acted like she’d never seen a dick before. I sat on the edge of the bed, trying to ignore the heaving of her breasts, choosing to slowly run my fingers through her hair instead, brushing it away from her face.

  “Have you ever done this before?”

  She frowned. “There was one other.”

  “That should have been me.”

  “Are you upset?”

  She opened her mouth to tell me more, but I had no intention of discussing another man. I placed my fingers to her lips. “Not upset. I’m surprised there was only one.”

  She moved my hand. “What do you mean?”

  “Time has only made you more beautiful, Sylvie. At the market today, men were gawking at you. Even when I wasn’t sure it was you, I had a hard time, too.”

  “Cal, the feelings I had for you when I was a girl still exist. They never died. If anything, I want you more now than I ever have.”

  “Me too, but I’ll be honest, I’m disappointed I won’t be your first, especially since I saved myself for you.”

  Her mouth dropped open. “You did?”

  “Hell, no,” I replied, laughing.

  She slapped my chest. Thank God, she laughed. “You haven’t lost your weird sense of humor.” She always got my jokes even when they were totally inappropriate.

  “As far as I’m concerned, those other times were all practice for this moment. And I would be a hypocrite to be upset that I’m not your number one.” I kind of was a hypocrite.

  “You are my number one, even if you weren’t my first. In a way, I’m happy you weren’t.”

  “You are?” I quirked my eyebrow at her statement.

  “The first time is awkward and messy. I’m glad we both have experience.”

  “I’m going to put my experience to good use.”

  I ran my fingers down her breasts and waist. I decided to use my mouth for worthier pursuits than talking. I stood and walked to the end of the bed, letting my hands trail up her thighs, wondering if I should leave the cowboy boots on her as I’d imagined this afternoon. In the end, I decided to remove them, wanting full access to her whole body. I wanted to be completely naked with her in every way with nothing between us—not one damn stitch. I flexed each foot, rotating her ankles and massaging them after I removed her footwear. My eyes froze on her right ankle. I ran my finger over the dark ink, admiring the detailing of the tattoo. The image depicted a small black raven, readying for flight.

  “It was my favorite poem, too,” she said. “The first and only poem a boy ever read to me.”

  “The first of many, Sylvie.” Hell, I’d be writing original sonnets for her before the sun came up. I kissed the ink, and then I moved up her long, long leg, making my way to the place I wanted to taste most of all. She moaned as I brushed against her inner thighs. I ran my finger under the waistband of her panties until her body twisted. “Please, Cal.”

  I hooked one finger on each side and slowly pulled them down. She lifted her hips to help me. I sniffed them, inhaling her sweet scent. Her eyes widened in shock. I twirled them in my fingers before sling-shooting them on the floor next to the other discarded clothes.

  “Open up for me,” I said. She complied, bending her knees up and opening her legs. Licking my lips like a predator, I crawled over her, pushing her legs even farther apart. I moved my tongue over her opening in slow repetition. Her whispers turned into pleas. Her pleas became moans. Her moans transformed to demands.

  I heeded the call. I thrust my tongue inside of her. She gasped at the sudden movement, knees shaking. Then I plunged in, not coming up for air. I sucked on her clit. I circled her walls. I penetrated her
over and over, enjoying my meal like the starving man I was.

  She screamed out, lifting her ass to meet my thrusting tongue. I grasped her hips to keep her from thrashing too much. The way she was moving, she might just knee me in the head.

  She sat up on her elbows to watch what I was doing to her. Damn, that was a turn on. She fisted her hands through my hair, pulling it. I loved it. I didn’t want her to stop. She moaned wildly, falling back as if she couldn’t take it anymore. I loved that, too. I sucked her clit while my finger penetrated her soaking pussy. She tightened around me, breathing hard. It was too soon. I wanted it to last longer. Maybe I could make her come again. I started the process over.

  “Get up here, now!” she demanded.

  I laughed and crawled over her body. I laid kisses to mark all the places I wanted to explore further. I stopped at her sumptuous lips, licking the outside as I’d done to her below. She opened her mouth, somewhat hesitantly, but I wouldn’t let her balk at my kiss. Our tongues did a little tangled dance. I really wanted her to taste me and, more importantly, taste her on me. There was a place where erotic and sweet met. We lived there now.

  “Oh, my God,” she moaned when I finally released her mouth.

  “Nope, it’s just me, Cal,” I said, laughing into her neck.

  “I’m an idiot.”

  “Why would you say that?” I asked, punctuating kisses down her neck.

  “What was I missing in high school?”

  “I was a virgin back then, too.”

  She blinked a few times. “Really?”

  I nod. “Yeah, I wanted to wait for you.” I planted butterfly kisses across her jaw line.

  “I don’t think I can do this much longer.”

  “Good things come to those who wait.” I continued my path as I gently massaged her breast.

  “Are you going to take two years again?” she asked. “Like you did for that kiss?”

  “Since we were so truthful today, I should confess you were my first kiss, too.”

  “What? What about all those other girls you said you kissed?”

  I shrugged. “I lied.”

  “Why?”

  “I wanted you to think I had more experience.” I tugged on a strand of her hair. “You kind of emasculated me by kissing me first.”

  “You were twelve. I don’t think the term ‘emasculated’ applies.”

  “Try telling that to my twelve-year-old self.” I embraced her, letting our bodies press together, before flipping us so she was on top of me. I reached over to the nightstand and retrieved the condom.

  I started to remove it, but I made the mistake of looking up at her. Her hair draped around us like we were the only two people in the world. My hands shook at the prospect of what we were about to do. My mind raced through a crazy montage of all the times I’d imagined this moment.

  “Will you put it on, please?” I asked, handing her the foil wrapper. She complied, tearing it with her teeth. I didn’t want to be vulnerable, but I knew my own limitations. I couldn’t do it myself. The weight of how much I wanted her was too much. She moved down my body, leaving slow, hungry kisses in her wake. Her lips were so soft that I almost lost it right there. She reached my cock, and I sat up to watch her put on the rubber, but she surprised me by grasping my erection in her hand and tasting the emerging droplets that formed at the tip.

  “Um…baby, that’s really nice, but I don’t need it. At least not this time.”

  “I just wanted to taste you, too,” she said.

  This time I fell back on the bed, not able to stand it anymore. She rolled the condom down my dick and then worked her way up to my chest again. I clasped her hips and moved her over my erection. She mounted me without hesitation. She was slick, but incredibly tight and warm. I sucked the air through my teeth. She bit her lip and closed her eyes. I wondered if I was hurting her.

  I rubbed her arms. “Check in with me. Are you okay?”

  She nodded.

  “I need words.”

  I searched her closely to make sure the contortions on her face were from pleasure not pain.

  She leaned her forehead against mine. “I need action.”

  I clasped her hips and pushed into her with force. I had no intention of letting her do all the work. She gasped in response, but it was gratified surprise. I moved myself, thrusting into her each time. Her hands fell on my shoulders for support. Her hair fell like a soft blanket over my chest.

  “Sylvie. So tight. So good, baby.” It wasn’t poetic, but they were the only coherent words I could form. I rubbed her clit, while she slid on my shaft.

  She moved with me, meeting me halfway with each thrust, digging her fingernails into my shoulders as we climbed higher together toward our releases. I felt her come apart and spasm around me. It took only another thrust for me to follow her. She collapsed on top of me. I ran my fingers down her back and kissed her head.

  We lay like that for a long time, holding on to each other. The world could throw hell at us, but we’d find our shelter in each other.

  Chapter 20

  Present day

  We spent most of the weekend that way. I craved her the way an addict craves his next fix. Luckily, her appetite matched mine. We took breaks for meals and showers. On Sunday night, she lay on my naked waist with her hair splayed out as she flipped through a magazine and I focused on a book I read, although I passed by the same sentence a half dozen times. She must have noticed my need because she put her magazine down and gave me a sexy smirk before she started planting slow, pleasurable kisses on my chest.

  “Ready so soon?”

  “Are you complaining?”

  I snapped the book close and threw it on the nightstand. “Never. But I do have an important question for you.”

  She sighed in frustration. “No more questions, Tex.” In between our moments of pleasure, we had traded more details about the last ten years. She was forthright with her answers, but recalling all the memories left us both drained.

  In one motion, I rotated us so she was underneath me. “This is pretty important, baby.” I tickled her side.

  “Ask it then. I ain’t got all day,” she said between cackles.

  “You’re so cute when you try to sound country.” I kissed her quickly, trying not to get too excited before I got my answer. “Are you on birth control?”

  She stared at me in surprise. “No, why would you ask me that?”

  I sighed and buried my head in her neck. “Come on. We have to go out.”

  “What for?”

  “We’re out of condoms,” I said, getting up from the bed.

  “What? How did that happen?”

  I sighed, smiling at her and wishing I’d stocked up. I’d never tire of her body. “I had an orgy over the weekend. What do you think?”

  Her look of disappointment would have been amusing if it didn’t match my own. “I thought you had a lot of supplies when I looked in that drawer.”

  “I did, and we had sex an awful lot, too. Are you forgetting already?” I put on my jeans and looked in my dresser for a clean T-shirt.

  She didn’t stir from the bed. “This sucks.”

  “I could always do the pull-out method.”

  She was quiet as if considering. I regretted even putting the suggestion out there. I walked over and sat on the edge. “Forget it. It was a stupid idea.”

  “I thought it was a pretty damn good idea.”

  I kissed her shoulder, working my way up to her ear, so I could whisper my admission. “As much as I’d like to feel you without anything between us, I doubt I could pull out when the time came. I’m just not that strong. Not when it comes to you.”

  “Me neither.”

  I stood and reached for her hand. She took it, but then looked around with hesitation.

  “What now?”

  “I don’t have any clean clothes here.” She was right. She’d been wearing my T-shirts and boxers, but we couldn’t exactly go out like that.

  �
��You can wear my T-shirt.” I shuffled in the drawer, pulling out a pair of sweats. “And these have a drawstring.”

  She laughed, but put on the pants. She could have swam in them. It reminded me of the way she’d dressed when she first came into my life all those years ago.

  “Why don’t we go back to my place?” she suggested, trying with concerted effort to tighten the drawstring. I walked over and helped make a tight enough knot so they wouldn’t fall off.

  “So, you can get your stuff?”

  “Cal, I need to be home for a while. I’ve spent the last two days here.”

  “I’m not comfortable with that.”

  “I didn’t say I needed to be alone. Pack a bag.”

  “I suppose that’s a fine idea then.” I wanted to see her place, too. I wanted to check all the windows and doors. I went to my closet and grabbed my backpack and Glock revolver. I loaded it with bullets.

  “You have a gun?” she asked with disbelief.

  “You can take the boy out of Texas, but you’ll never take Texas out of the boy,” I said with a grin.

  She didn’t laugh at the joke. “I don’t think it’s a good idea for you to be carrying it around.”

  “Relax. I have a permit for it. Hey, how about we go to the range next weekend?”

  “Why?”

  “So, I can teach you how to shoot. We can get you your own. It would make you feel more comfortable and give me some peace of mind to know you had one.”

  She swallowed. “I don’t know if that’s the best idea. I’m not exactly a fan.”

  It occurred to me why she wouldn’t approve. Bullets killed her mom and dad. A bullet had nearly killed her. I put the gun down and took her in my arms. “The gun isn’t dangerous. The user is the danger. Guns can protect as well as harm. It all depends on who’s using them. Trust me on this.”

  “’Kay,” she said, clearly unconvinced. I decided not to press on.

  We got in my car and stopped at the nearest chain convenience store on Piedmont. Sylvie stared at all the various packages of condoms, reading the promises on the labels. Some things never changed.