I pull up in front of our apartment building twenty minutes later and I’m surprised to see that Houston is parked next to the curb. We switch between parking at the curb and using the carport that came with the apartment. There’s only space for one car in the carport, so he parks his truck in the space Friday through Sunday and I park my seven-year-old Toyota there Monday through Thursday. It’s Friday evening, so he should be parked in the space tonight. I assume he’s invited a friend over and they took the carport, so I park my car next to the curb behind Houston’s truck and head inside.
I open the front door and I’m surprised to find Houston lying shirtless on the sofa with no one else around. “Are you alone?” I ask, throwing my keys and my backpack onto the kitchen table. I take my Barnes & Noble bag to the sofa and he sits up to make room for me.
“No, my imaginary girlfriend is in the shower.”
“Why are you parked at the curb?”
He watches intently as I pull my new book out of the bag. “I forgot to park in the space and by the time I remembered I was already lying here in my boxers. I’ll move it in the morning. What’d you get?”
“I don’t know. I just picked a random book off the display table and bought it.”
He laughs as he takes the book from my hand. “You’re such a dork.” He holds up the book and reads the title aloud. “The Fall? Sounds literary.”
“I guess I’ll find out soon. I’m gonna go take a bath.”
I reach for the book and he holds it above his head so it’s out of my reach. “What are you talking about? You can’t read it without me. That’s not fair.”
I can’t stop the stupid grin spreading across my cheeks. “Fine. But I have to take a shower. I smell like the smoker dude who sat in front of me in the lecture hall today.”
He narrows his eyes at me. “What were you doing with the smoker dude?”
“Oh, you know, the usual bj followed by lots of cuddling.”
I stand up to go to the bathroom and Houston grabs my hand. “I’ll cuddle with you, Scar.”
“But will you give me a bj?”
He lets go of my hand and smacks my ass. “Go take a shower, dirty girl. I’ll get the bed ready for your bj.”
17. Houston
Five years ago, February 13th
* * *
Whenever Rory starts reading a new book, she always wants to read the story aloud to me. I think it’s cute, but I’ve never cared for women’s fiction or romance, which is what she mostly reads. A month ago, after shooting down her fourth request to read to me, I told her I’d only listen if she took off all her clothes while she read. I thought she’d get a little pissed, then resume her book without me. I didn’t expect her to say yes.
I’ve acquired a new appreciation for women’s fiction and romance ever since then. Especially the love scenes. No matter what the circumstances are in the novel, I always imagine the characters are us. The difficult part is trying to keep my hands off Rory’s creamy skin.
She comes into the bedroom with a towel wrapped around her body and another wrapped around her head. She heads for the dresser to get some clothes, but pajamas go against everything I have planned for her tonight. I leap out of bed and slide between her and the dresser.
“I’ll go turn up the heater. No clothes is part of the deal.”
She shakes her head as I set off into the hallway to turn up the heat. When I come back, she’s gone. I peek into the bathroom and she’s standing naked in front of the sink, brushing her hair. I enter behind her and take the brush from her hand. Her reflection smiles at mine and I continue brushing. I grab her towel off the rack to squeeze more water out of her hair, then I finish by blow-drying it.
Rory loves when I do girl stuff with her. I try not to imagine that this is because my sister isn’t around to do this kind of stuff with her anymore, but it’s hard not to. What’s worse is that I actually enjoying blow-drying her hair and painting her nails because I know how happy it makes her. As long as she keeps her promise never to tell anyone I do these things, I’ll probably be doing it for the rest of our lives.
I hang the blow-dryer on the rack she asked me to install in the bathroom last week for her hair tools. She turns around to face me and I just want to lift her up and slide my cock inside her right there, but I have to be patient tonight. Tonight is about the long game.
I grab her neck gently, placing my thumb over her pulse, then I kiss her tenderly until I can feel her heartbeat racing. Pulling away slowly, I place a soft kiss on her cheekbone before I take her hand and lead her into the bedroom. The book she bought today is lying on her side of the bed. I hold the covers up for her to get in, then I take off my boxers before sliding in next to her.
“Is this historical fiction?” I ask, as she settles in under the covers.
“I think it’s—”
“Wait. Don’t tell me. I want to try to figure it out.”
“Of course. You like to be surprised.” She drags out the “i” in “surprised” to mock me.
I reach over and gently grab her breast and she gasps because my hands are a little cold. “See? You like being surprised too.”
She lightly smacks my hand. “All right. You’ve made your point. Can I have my breast back?”
“But it’s so warm. Can I hold on a little longer? I promise I’ll still listen.”
She rolls her eyes as she begins reading the first page. “In the light of my grandmother’s torchère, the one with the fringed lampshade, I wrote my first letter to my dead husband.” She stops and slowly closes the book. “Maybe I should read something else.”
“Why?”
She turns to me with tears glistening in the corners of her eyes. “I don’t want to read this.”
I let go of her breast and take the book from her hands. I lay it on my nightstand and by the time I turn back to her, she’s composed herself. My hand slides under the sheet, quickly finding her soft abdomen. I brush the backs of my fingers over her skin as I slide my hand to her waist.
Burying my face in her neck, I whisper against her skin. “You want to tell me another story?”
She arches her back a little, pressing her chest to mine. “What kind of story?”
I slide my knee between her thighs as she coils her arms around my shoulders. “Your story.”
She moans softly as I lightly dig my teeth into her neck. “My story is boring.”
I suck on her neck and she wraps her legs around my hips. “Then tell me our story. Tell me how long you’ve wanted me.” I slide my hand behind her knee and lift her leg so my erection is pressed against her throbbing pussy, but I don’t enter her. “Then tell me how our story ends.”
She squeezes her thighs together to tighten them around my hips and I gasp as my cock slides about an inch inside her. She grabs my face so she can look at me as I sink in slowly. Her eyelids flutter with ecstasy until I hit her cervix and she lets out a tiny gasp.
“Talk to me,” I whisper as I move slowly in and out of her.
She smiles as she gently rakes her fingernails down my back, then back up to my shoulders, sending shivers through me and making my cock twitch. “The first time I saw you… you were on your skateboard.”
I let out a soft chuckle, but she continues undaunted, as do I.
“You had your hat on backwards and… I think you were fourteen and you were already almost six feet tall. It was August and you were all sweaty.”
I lift her left leg a bit higher so I can dig deeper. “You like it when I’m all sweaty?”
“Yes,” she moans. “Yes… but I didn’t realize I was in love with you until I was fifteen.”
“Four… years… later?” I time my words with my thrusts and this makes her smile. “Why… so… long?”
She lets out a long sigh as I reach between her legs and massage her clit. “Because that’s when I started touching myself.”
“And you’d think of me?”
Her pussy clenches around my erection as I m
ove my finger in slow circles around her swollen bud. She closes her eyes and tosses her head backward, exposing the graceful arch of her neck. The sensation of her muscles spasming around my dick is getting me too excited, so I pull out of her and her eyes flash open.
“Keep talking, baby,” I urge her as I lay a hot trail of kisses down her neck all the way to her breasts.
She whimpers as I take her nipple into my mouth and suck gently. “That was when you went away to college… I thought of you all the time and… I think I was touching myself at least once a day.”
I tease her nipple with my tongue, smiling when she writhes a bit. “Is it wrong I find it hot you were fantasizing about me at that age?”
“Well, technically, you were eighteen and I was fifteen… so you would have been taking advantage of me if we actually did all the things I imagined we were doing.”
My cock becomes painfully engorged at this comment. “Well, you’re eighteen now, so tell me… what did you imagine us doing?”
I slide down and lay a soft kiss on her abdomen, then my head is between her legs. One of my favorite things about Rory is that she lets me shave her in the shower. Probably because she knows I’ll make her come when I’m done. But nonetheless, it’s one of my favorite parts of showering with her.
She draws in a sharp breath as I use my fingers to part her swollen lips, then I take her perfect clit into my mouth. “Oh, God, Houston.”
“Keep talking or I’m gonna stop.”
She laughs, but she quickly resumes her story. “This. This is what I used to imagine. And… I was a virgin, but I used to imagine you being my first.”
“I was your first,” I mutter, then I go back to licking her.
She threads her fingers through my hair, holding on for dear life as her legs begin to quiver. “I know… and it was way better than I imagined it would be.”
I softly lick her up and down right at the one o’clock position on her clit and, as usual, she comes within seconds. I continue stimulating her, relishing the sound of her moans, until she grabs chunks of my hair and pulls me up.
I mash my lips to hers as I slide into her. I try to move slowly, but she grinds her hips into me, urging me on.
I pull back so I can look her in the eye. “Slow down, baby. The story’s not over yet.”
She smiles and pulls my mouth to hers again. Her kiss is hot and hungry, making it difficult for me to slow my pace, but I’m determined to make this last. I lift her leg again so she can watch my cock dipping in and out of her as I pierce her slowly and methodically.
Finally, she continues. “You know what comes after our first time together… What else do you want me to say?”
I pull out of her as my arms begin to shake. “Holy fuck. I’m getting so close to blowing my load. Give me a second.”
“Holy fuck. I’m getting so close to blowing my load. Give me a second,” she says, repeating my words back to me as if this is what I wanted her to say.
I laugh at her attempt to inject humor into the situation, but it’s not helping as my dick keeps twitching with an impending orgasm. “Don’t move,” I whisper, then I take a deep breath as I wait for the sensation to pass.
“Okay, I’ll just keep talking. You wanted to know how our story ends?”
I look up at her and she smiles as I very slowly ease my cock back inside her. “How does it end?”
She gazes into my eyes for a moment before she responds. “It doesn’t have to end, does it?”
Unable to hold back any longer, I press my lips together to keep from grunting as I come inside her. Then I think of how our relationship began and how I’ve always known that it’s going to end.
I lay a soft kiss on the corner of her lips. “I hope it never ends.”
18. Rory
Five years ago, February 14th
* * *
Houston is gone by the time I wake up Saturday morning. Our first Valentine’s Day together. Or not together, I guess. I forgot about Valentine’s Day while I was with Houston last night. I don’t know if that’s a testament to how much I love him or how good he is at making me forget that anything and anyone else exists.
I consider lying in bed and wallowing for the rest of the day, but I know I’ll start thinking about Hallie and I’ll be a crying mess before long. I should go back to Barnes & Noble and find a more uplifting book, but uplifting is not exactly better. I finally decide to just get up and go for a run.
By the time I have my running shoes and yellow fleece jacket on, Houston bursts through the front door soaked from head to toe and shivering.
“What happened to you?” I ask as I rush over to help him out of his UO hoodie. The rainwater soaking his clothes is so frigid, the cold penetrates through my fleece jacket. “You have to get out of those clothes. You’re freezing. What were you doing out there?”
He pushes my hands away to stop me from removing his hoodie. “Stop, stop. You need to come outside.”
“Are you crazy? You need to change your clothes.”
He smiles. “We can do that later. Right now, you need to come outside with me. But grab an umbrella.”
I shake my head as I grab an umbrella out of the stand next to the door. “You’re acting weird.”
He leads me through the courtyard and out to the parking lot. The freezing rain batters the top of my umbrella, but Houston doesn’t bother trying to take shelter with me. He doesn’t even flinch as the rain batters his hulking shoulders, as if he’s a god impervious to the elements.
Where Houston’s truck should be parked under the carport, I spot another car, a brand-new silver Prius tied with a soggy red bow. That’s why he was parked on the street last night?
“What the fuck is that?”
He laughs as he pulls me toward the car. “It’s yours. The ribbon got a little wet while I was tying it. Do you know how hard it is to tie a ribbon on a car in the middle of a rainstorm?”
“The ribbon got wet?” I reply, looking him up and down. “You’re insane.”
“I’m in love. It kinda goes with the territory. Happy Valentine’s Day.”
In love? Houston has never told me he loves me. This is the first time he’s hinted at it. Well, I guess buying me a car is also a pretty huge hint. I want to scream I love you! loud enough for it to echo in a neighboring galaxy, but I’m speechless.
The hand holding my umbrella falls to my side and raindrops fall steadily on my cheeks. I drop the umbrella and stand on my tiptoes so I can throw my arms around his neck. He squats down and wraps his arms around the tops of my thighs, then he lifts me up so I’m about six inches taller than him.
I cradle his beautiful face in my hands and kiss him with such ferocity our teeth clack against each other. We both chuckle, then I slow down a little so I can savor the sensation of his warm tongue brushing against mine. The rain taps the back of my head, slithering through my hair, then down our faces. I turn my head to catch my breath and Houston sets me down gently.
“You’re shaking. I’m taking you inside.” He grabs my hand and sets off toward the courtyard, but I dig my heels into the asphalt.
“Wait! I didn’t get you anything.”
He turns back to me, confused. “Yes, you did. You told me a story.”
“But… I’m sorry. I can’t accept the car. I don’t deserve it.” My protests are slightly garbled by the staticky sound of rain pouring all around us.
“What are you talking about? Of course you do. And, no offense, but your car is a piece of shit. You need this car.”
A green SUV pulls into the lot and Houston pulls me aside so we’re under the carport.
I wipe the rain from my face and eyelashes. “But what happens if we break up? I can’t afford to make a car payment with a part-time minimum-wage job. That’s why you took me in. I’m poor.”
“That’s not why I took you in.”
I flash him my best don’t-even-try-to-bullshit-me-right-now expression.
He laughs. “Okay, fine. That
is partially why I took you in, but the important thing is that we’re not going to break up. The story never ends, remember?”
“Houston, that was a story. It’s not real life. In real life, shit happens.”
He lets out an impatient sigh. “Fine. If it makes you feel better, you can keep your old car in case we break up.”
“But where are we gonna keep it? Oh! I can keep it in the garage at home. Can you follow me home in your truck—or better yet, follow me in the new car so I can show my parents?”
He’s silent for a moment as he contemplates my request, then he smiles. “I can’t. I promised Troy we’d go to the game tomorrow. But I’ll buy you a train ticket for the ride back. Go visit your parents, on me.”
I consider whining to get my way, because I really want my parents to see my new car. And I really, really want them to see me with Houston, to see how happy we are together. So they can see there is still one bright spark of hope in my life. But he did just buy me a car. I can’t be too demanding right now.
I reach for him and he leans down so I can wrap my arms around his solid neck. “Thank you, from the bottom of my heart, for taking me in. And for giving me a fucking car.”
He laughs as he tilts his head back so he can kiss the tip of my nose.
“But most of all,” I continue, “thanks for being my friend. I… I…”
He squeezes me harder, and for the first time since we left the apartment I feel warm. “I love you more,” he whispers in my ear. “But all I ask in return for this car is that you let me tie you up tonight.”
“I knew there was a catch.” I grin stupidly as the words I love you more repeat inside my mind like a beautifully broken record.
He slides his hand underneath my jacket and I flinch a little when his icy fingers whisper over the small of my back. “There’s always a catch.”