23. Kaylee
23
KAYLEE
I was lying in bed reading when I heard him banging on my door.
My bed is already turned down, and the lights are dimmed for comfort.
I lead him around my bed before turning to face him.
His eyes are glassy and bloodshot, with dark circles forming under them. His cheeks seem hollower, and he hasn’t shaved because light scruff is starting to cover his jaw.
I grab the hem of his shirt, and he lets me pull it up and over his head.
I toss it onto the chair in the corner of the room before placing my hands on his bare chest and urging him to sit on the bed.
When he does, I fall to my knees, pulling off his boots.
I’m surprised to see that he’s not wearing any socks. It’s like he was in such a hurry to get back to me that he couldn’t be bothered to pull them on.
Once I have them off, I set them to the side where they won’t be tripped over. I stand, and he wraps his arms around me.
He pulls me closer, resting the side of his head against my stomach as his arms circle my legs.
I comb my fingers through his hair, noticing the way my heart races and blood warms.
It’s not out of need though, it’s pure emotion.
All this time, I’ve been falling for him. It’s only now that I realize that I’m in love with him.
Realizing that only makes my heart beat harder because everything is a mess right now.
I’m not sure if he’ll stay or if he’s only back because he’s drunk.
I don’t know if he’ll want to be a part of my life, of our baby’s life.
And even if he does, what will my parents think about all this?
How will I handle being a mother, let alone a single mother, who works full-time?
I never considered having kids.
That’s one of the reasons I went into teaching to begin with.
I love children, but being solely responsible for another human life is… a lot.
The longer he holds me, the more I think, and the more worried I become. Not only about not being able to keep him, but also about the fact that my life is suddenly changing, and I might be in it alone.
I should hate myself for getting into this mess. I should hate him for getting into this mess with me.
But I don’t.
I can’t bring myself to, because even if we are in a mess now, the past month and a half has been amazing.
I’ve never felt so loved, warm, safe, wanted, and cherished in my life, and I know I would not have felt that without him.
Which is why, when he pushes my tank top up and begins to kiss my stomach, I can’t walk away.
I need this. I need him.
One more time, just in case I don’t get the chance to experience this again.
He kisses a path from my right hipbone to my left. He glances up at me, and when he sees that I’m not going to stop him, he pushes my shirt up more.
I reach for the hem, pulling it over my head, and dropping it onto the floor.
I put my knee onto the bed next to his hip, and he wraps his arms around my middle, pulling me down to the bed and covering my body with his.
His mouth finds mine, his tongue hot and slow, tasting of whiskey.
I’ve never been a fan of the stuff, but I can’t push him away. I need to feel all of him, burn every move into my memory.
His hands find mine, and he intertwines our fingers as he moves my hands above my head.
He breaks our kiss, moving his mouth to my chest while his hands hold mine captive.
He kisses over the swell of my breasts, down to one hardened peak.
His tongue swirls around it before sucking hard. My stomach clenches as the junction between my legs begins to ache.
He pulls away with a nip to the bud, moving to the other and repeating the process.
My eyes roll back, savoring every move.
His hands release mine, and they travel down my arms as he kisses down my body. He licks and nips at the skin of my stomach.
When my shorts cut him off, he grabs them and pulls back, ripping them down my legs. I’m quick to lift my feet and pull them off.
The shorts are quickly discarded, and a moment later, he dives face-first between my thighs.
He doesn’t warm up to it.
He doesn’t tease me or make me beg.
He goes right in, taking what he wants while giving me what he knows I need.
His hands cup my ass, kneading, and massaging the muscle while he licks, sucks, and flicks my sensitive mound.
My back arches as I’m taken over by the powerful sensations of his adoration.
He bites my inner thigh and sucks, bringing the blood to the surface of my skin.
I can feel my heartbeat between my legs, and I whimper.
I fist his hair and pull his mouth back where I need it.
He doesn’t hold back, licking my bundle of nerves over and over until an orgasm rushes through me.
My knees shake on either side of his head, and my body shudders as wave after wave of pleasure races through my body.
He doesn’t pull away until I’m still, breathless, and weak beneath him.
My eyes open, finding him on his knees between my parted legs.
He’s looking down on my body with hooded eyes. His dark orbs are partially hidden behind heavy lids and thick lashes, and his glistening lips are parted with his heavy breathing.
His hands are working fast to free himself from his jeans, and when he pushes them down, I find he isn’t wearing any boxers as his massive cock springs free.
He’s hard and standing at attention.
His silky skin is pulled taught over his length, the blue rope-like veins moving from the base to his angry purplish tip.
A bead of cum is forming on the head, and I lick my lips in preparation.
He slaps my clit with his cock, and my body twitches with excitement.
Staying back on his knees, he rubs that drop of cum against my nub.
He drags his cock down to my entrance, and just when I think he’s going to push inside of me, he pulls it back up, coating my folds with my arousal.
He watches his cock as he rocks forward and back, covering us with my glistening excitement.
He bites his lower lip as his hands squeeze my thighs.
His eyes roam from my pussy to my bouncing breasts, to my face and back like he’s trying to take it all in.
While his eyes are filled with lust and need, they’re also drowning in sadness, and that’s the look I feel in my gut.
I try not to focus on it as I watch him enjoy my body.
Suddenly, he rocks forward, slamming inside of me. I let out a moan as my headboard bounces off the wall.
His head falls back, and a low groan escapes his lips. I reach for him, pulling his mouth to mine. I kiss him, taste him, breathe in his breath as he continues to thrust into me.
Pushing against his chest, he rolls to his back to allow me on top. His hands stay on my hips, guiding me up and down, forward, and back.
His bloodshot eyes are now slits, watching the way my body moves. He’s biting his lip, his hands roaming from my hips to my breasts.
It doesn’t take long before I’m moaning his name and coming undone. The second I slow, he pulls out of me and repositions me on my knees before him.
He slides into me from behind, thrusting in slowly.
“You always feel so fucking good, Kay.” He rolls his hips, grinding his hipbones into my ass.
I’m breathless as my chest falls to the mattress, my ass still up in the air as he pounds against it.
He moves faster, going deeper, fucking me harder. His breathing gets louder, and the headboard crashes against the wall.
His hips take on a life of their own and just as I fall, my walls twitching and convulsing around his thick cock, he jumps with me.
I feel his hot cum fill me, drenching my walls as he pumps again and again, emptying himself of every drop.
He withdraws, falling onto the bed as I collapse onto my stomach. His head lulls to the side, and his eyes close.
I watch as his breathing slows and becomes deeper. Within two minutes of pulling out of me, he’s fast asleep.
Part of me wants to lie here like this forever. I know how silly that sounds, but I’m scared to close my eyes in fear of waking up to find him gone from my life.
I thought I had lost him today when he left, but I’m sure he only came back tonight for a real goodbye.
He hasn’t said the words, but I can feel them between us like an elephant in the room.
I push myself up, rolling to my side, and turning off the bedside lamp. I drag the blankets up my body and force myself to close my eyes.
I can’t make him stay.
Only he can do that.
A tear leaks out and rolls down my cheek.
What is he so afraid of? Is he afraid to tell my father about us or is he worried about becoming a father?
Sleep comes in waves, never strong enough to hold me under long.
I wake often and never feel rested, but I’m tired of fighting it around seven in the morning when I finally leave him in bed to start my day.
I crawl out of bed and quietly walk across the floor. I step into the bathroom, making sure I make no sound as I pull the door closed.
I walk past the vanity toward the shower, only to get smacked with a brief memory of the day he fucked me against it, long before the room had been finished.
That was the day he invited me to dinner at his place. In so many ways, that was the day we started this secret relationship.
Sure, we’d already come together once by then, but that day, he didn’t run. He accepted what we’d become.
I step into the shower and close my eyes as I let the water rush over my face. The heat helps my mind to relax even though I don’t know what today will bring.
Only… I can’t shake the feeling that I know what he’s come here to tell me.
And as badly as I know it’ll hurt, I tell myself that it’ll be alright, and I’ll survive.
He ran from me many times in the beginning.
He’s going to run now, but if history has taught me anything, it’s that he’ll be back.
He never stays away for long.