Black Swan Affair (17 page)

“
W
here are we going
?” I ask for the eighth time.

And for the eighth time, Kael patiently answers in the exact same way he has the previous seven, “It’s a surprise, Swan.”

But I already know. Once we got on I-35, I had it figured out. There’s not much between Canada and us except ten thousand lakes.

Kael’s taking me away for a “long weekend.” Today marks our four-and-three-quarter-month wedding anniversary. He does things off the beaten path. It’s one of the most endearing qualities about him. So he took the day off. Arranged for coverage at the bakery all weekend. He even packed for me, saying he knew exactly what I needed.

He picks up my hand, kisses my palm, and places our laced fingers in his lap. On his upper thigh. Close to his dick. A dick that’s more talented than I ever imagined.

Well…
maybe
I imagined. Once or twice.

I’ll never forget the first time I felt it pressed against me. I was young, immature, inexperienced. Had no idea what a girl could possibly do to turn a boy on so much his cock would swell from flaccid to rock hard in under five seconds.

I was four days into wisdom teeth recovery. I remember waking up from a drug-induced sleep. Kael was snuggled up behind me. We were in my bedroom with the door shut, a rerun of
Gilligan’s Island
on in the background. My parents trusted Kael implicitly and while no other boy could get away with slipping so much as a toenail into my room without a chaperone, Kael always could.

Kael’s arm had me anchored to his torso. His leg was slung over mine. Our bodies were pressed together from shoulder to shin. His measured, even breaths tickled my ear. Lying in his arms then felt different than it ever had before. I began to get warm. Flush. His body heat had me on fire from head to toe. I squirmed, trying to get comfortable when I felt
it
. It was hard. So damn hard and thick and long. When I wriggled to assure my inexperienced almost sixteen-year-old brain I wasn’t feeling what I thought I was, he groaned my name, still fast asleep.

I lay still as an injured animal, unsure what to do next. That warmth spreading through me was raging hotter with every second that passed. Especially between my legs, where I began to ache and long for something I’d never longed for before. I was still in love with Killian, but for the first time, I imagined what it would be like to kiss my best friend.
Really
kiss him. Not a peck on the cheek or like that time he tried to kiss me when I was ten. But a real kiss with tongue and heavy breathing and passion.

“You awake, Swan?” he whispered in my ear just seconds later. I pretended I wasn’t. Then he got up, went into the bathroom, and stayed there for a good ten minutes. The door did nothing to disguise what was happening on the other side. His rapid breathing and low grunts quickly gave it away.

That was my first inkling. Kael had feelings for me. Real ones beyond eating strawberry explosion and watching old movies together. Lust was obvious, but when I remember the way he held me, I think I always knew it ran deeper than rampant teenage hormones.

He spent every minute with me for four solid days. I hadn’t realized how much I’d missed him that year until he was lying in my bed, watching TV, and doting on me as if it was the only thing he wanted to do. We built a blanket fort and spent all day Saturday underneath it, playing silly games, talking, napping when I had to take a pain pill. He made me grape Jell-O: my favorite. He made sure I had Kitty McGoo, the ratty stuffed cat he’d given me when I had my tonsils out at age seven. And we ate two whole quarts of strawberry explosion in four days. He cared for me like I was already his.

Maybe I was.

“You’re awfully quiet over there. Whatcha thinking about, baby?”

I let my eyes run over his profile. Strong, angled jaw. Aristocratic nose. Plump, kissable lips. Wavy hair that’s soft and thick.
Stunning
. My face matches his when he breaks into a grin. He knows I’m staring.

“Remember when I got my wisdom teeth out?”

He laughs. I really like making him laugh. “It was utterly unforgettable, Swan.”

“Why do you say it like that?” I ask, swiveling to face him. I draw a foot up to the seat and rest my chin on my bent knee.

“Like what?”

“I don’t know. With that smirk?”

“What smirk?” he asks, the corner of his mouth tilting way up.

“What aren’t you telling me?” I giggle, poking him in the arm. When I see him adjust his package, I really let loose.

“Do you know how many times I jacked off that weekend, Swan?” He grabs my wrist and drags my palm to his cock. It’s stiff. Eight inches of utter glory. And so thick, I couldn’t fully circle it even if I wanted to. I clamp my fingers around him, the nails scratching the denim. My girly parts start to throb.

His own palm warms the top of my hand as he begins to guide me up and down. “Oh fuck, Maverick. You have no idea.”
I think I have some idea
. When he looks at me, his pupils are larger. Darker. The brown of his irises a little murkier. The skin on his face seems tighter. “I lost count after ten.”

“You did?” I ask on a breathless laugh. I lean over and nibble his neck. He moans. My fingers tighten. “You’re right. I had no idea.” Well, no idea he’d taken care of himself so many times.

“Why…
oh fuck
,” he breathes hoarsely when my thumb caresses around his mushroom tip. “Why do you think I wore a pillow like a diaper the entire time?”

I remember that very well. Chuckling in his ear, I take the lobe between my teeth. The metal of his zipper is between my fingers. I start to tug down, but he stops me. “What’s the matter, babe?” I whisper. “Not up for a little road trip adventure today?”

The hand holding mine steady whips up, threads through my hair, and yanks me back so he can take my mouth in a punishing kiss, all while keeping his eyes on the road. His tongue dives inside, sweeping in long, drugging strokes. I feel the car shift, pull to the right. We start to slow before he lets me catch a breath again.

We turn right. Right again. I have no idea what we’re doing as my mouth is working its way up and down his neck, over his jaw. Our fingers are again dueling against his jeans. Mine south, his fighting north. He’s winning, dammit. Then he’s releasing me while he shifts the car into park. I blink a few times to clear my haze, realizing we’re at a convenience store off the interstate.

Kael hops out and opens my door. I smile up at him as he takes my hand in his. “Thirsty?” I tease laughingly. When he drove us to school we always had to leave in time to stop at the local gas station for his sixty-four-ounce Biggie filled with half Coke half Dr. Pepper.

“Fucking parched,” he mumbles. Very seriously, I might add. With our fingers locked, he drags me behind him inside, weaving between aisles until we reach the restrooms in the back. He tries the men’s door first. Locked. He curses. He tries the women’s next. It easily swings open.

He ushers me inside the one-person unit and closes us in. When he twists the lock, I ask, “What are you doing?”

“Being adventurous,” he replies simply.

“Oh,” is all I can think of to say.

Then he’s all over me. Lips fused to mine. Hands sweeping my curves. Wrenching my jeans open. Tugging them down, along with my underwear. I’m being lifted in the air and my ass hits cold ceramic, but it does nothing to cool down the blaze now burning out of control inside me.

After wrapping my hands around the sink, Kael spreads me wide, drops to his haunches, and with mischief written all over his face, never breaks his eyes from mine as he proceeds to eat me out right there in the women’s restroom at Casey’s. Within seconds, he has me writhing. Within minutes, I’m coming undone.

Scorching fire bursts through my veins, heats my muscles. Makes me nothing but boneless satisfaction. I’m still chanting his name when he invades and conquers. The growl in the back of his throat when he first pushes inside me is so fucking sexy, I detonate again almost immediately.

“I will never get enough of this, Swan. Fucking ever,” he grits against my ear. “So long I’ve waited for you.”

“Oh, God,” I pant when his thumb snakes between us. His fingers make my body hum and my blood sing. His teeth scrape along the length of the straining tendon in my neck and when he sucks that spot right below my ear, I feel myself clench around him.

“Yeah, that’s it. Come again, Mavs.”

For a girl who wasn’t able to orgasm more than once, if ever, Kael has turned me into a nymph. He expertly works me now. Every. Single. Time. It’s like he’s opened some floodgate—a sexual Pandora’s box—and I can’t stop them now. That’s not a complaint, by the way. Just an observation. I’ve come to appreciate the way he subtly controls both my desires and my reactions to them.

My nails curl, now digging into his shoulders. I hang on for dear life, perched on the tip of a sink and the edge of sanity at what he does to me.

“Oh, yes,” he praises when I finally free-fall. He’s right behind me, releasing into me on punishing drives. I love it when Kael lets go—another thing I’ve come to appreciate over the last few months. His body seizes up. His grunts are growly and sexy. He grips me with just the right amount of hardness. It borders on bruising but isn’t. It’s enough to stamp me with his subtle ownership, though not enough to mark me.

He stills and his hands come up to meet my cheeks. Breath still harsh, he kisses me sweetly, but senseless, then draws back and stares into my eyes. He doesn’t make an attempt to break us apart yet even though we both just heard the knock on the door and an urgent plea to “hurry.”

“What?” I ask.

His smile is tender. I shiver a little when he brushes stray hairs behind my ears. “Sorry.”

Sorry? What the hell for? That was hot. “For?”

“For having no control when it comes to you. I’ve had enough of both of our palms to last me a lifetime. I needed to be inside you.”

God. The things he says sometimes are ridiculously romantic.

I wrap my arms around his waist, pulling him closer. He’s softening and slips out at the sudden movement. Now, cool air mixes with the mess between my legs, but I don’t care in the slightest. “I’m not sorry. You shouldn’t be either.” I close the two inches between us, taking his lips lightly between mine. “I loved it.”

“Yeah? Even in”—he takes in our less than sanitary conditions—”here?”

“Are you kidding? I bet this sink has seen more action than Sylvester Stallone.”

His laugh warms me. “I bet you’re right. We should leave our notch somewhere.”

“Let’s do!” I clap my hands together in excitement.

The pounding is getting more urgent, so I push him back slightly as I slip off the edge of the sink. My ass is now numb and my upper thighs are tingling. Kael doesn’t just reach over to grab some paper towels, which would be the handiest route. No…he rushes to get me a big wad of toilet paper instead.

“Softer,” he says with a wink.

And that right there is why I should have loved this man all along instead of Killian. It’s not grand gestures but the small things that seem so mundane and inconsequential that slot themselves inside our memories forever. When everything else fades with time,
those
are what shine bright, undying. This is the core of who Kael is. My needs come first. My comfort. My pleasure. He wants the best for me. Always has. Why did I not see that before?

“Kael?”

He abandons his own cleaning up, eyes sweeping to mine “Swan?” The look on his face is pure, utter bliss. Feeling a burn start in my eyes, I band my arms around him. Tight. Strong. Unbreakable.
We’re
unbreakable.

“I love you.”

He gently runs his hands down my hair, smoothing it back in place. His touch is slow and purposeful. Reverent is the word that comes to mind. With lips against my temple, he whispers on a sigh, “I love you more.”

I don’t doubt that
. That should make me feel bad, but all it does is make me feel drunk on him instead.

We rush to put ourselves back together and Kael scratches a crude marking in the peach-tinged paint of the wall with his keys. He insists on a selfie first to mark this memory then swings open the door and leads us out, hand in hand, uncaring that a middle-aged woman is standing right there with a young girl who is holding her hand between her legs. She looks absolutely stricken we had the audacity to be seen together in broad daylight fresh off an—well, let’s just call it what it is—afternoon fuck in the Casey’s bathroom.

“Men’s room is out of order,” Kael announces smoothly as we pass. Not two seconds later—kid you not—the men’s door flies open. Out bounds a man who has clearly enjoyed his alone time, although the next person won’t so much. The woman’s mouth turns down even farther before she pushes the girl into the bathroom and commands her not to touch anything. We giggle like teenagers, rushing away from her condemning glare.

Hand still tucked in mine, he says, “Let’s get some snacks while we’re here.”

Another road trip must. Junk food. “Oh hell yeah.”

A few minutes later, our arms full of sodas, candy bars, nuts, and crackers, we dump them on the counter and wait for the attendant to ring them up. I laugh when I see what Kael has picked out. Several flat strips of taffy. The exact kind they used to sell at our pool in the summertime. Banana flavored. He was more of a strawberry lover, but he’s picked banana.
My
favorite. Then I almost double over when I see them. Pop Rocks. Three packets of them.