I touched my forehead to hers. "Thanks."
She lifted up, kissed me. "Thank you for...not pushing me away, I guess. I think a lot of guys would have freaked out. You let me in, told me what you're feeling. That's how it should be."
I vowed that's how it always would be.
Ever
Two weeks later, Cade and I were sitting in the same side of a booth at National Coney Island, sharing disgustingly good cheese fries. It was 2 a.m., and we'd just spent the last two hours exhausting each other in the best possible way. I was sated, pleasantly sore, and ready to jump him again as soon as we went back to my dorm. Which could be tricky, since Steph had broken up with her boyfriend and was home more, which meant we had to stay in my room afterward or put on clothes, as well as having to be quiet when Steph was around. I especially wasn't very good at being quiet. I'd never had that problem before, but Cade seemed to have a talent for making me scream.
He'd continued to flat-out refuse to let me come to his apartment, which wasn't really his. He was staying month-to-month at the apartment he'd shared with Alex, but he'd expressed several times how much he hated it. It reminded him of Alex, of finding him. He was spending as much time at my dorm as he could, but with his own classes and Steph's presence, it wasn't as much as either of us wanted, and it was rarely as uninhibited as we would have liked.
"Maybe this is crazy," Cade said, dipping a liquid-cheese-product-coated fry in ranch, "but...what if we got our own place?"
I tried not to choke on my Coke. "Um...what?" I turned to look at him. "You mean move in together?"
He shrugged, and I could tell he was trying to sound casual when he felt anything but. "Yeah. I mean, I know it's only been two weeks, but...is it really that big of a stretch?"
I didn't answer right away. I'd had the same thought, but hadn't voiced it. It seemed a little crazy to be considering moving in with the boy I'd been dating for barely two weeks. "Our relationship isn't exactly normal, though. It's not like we met two weeks ago. Not really."
"Is it crazy to you?" he asked.
I mimicked his attempt at nonchalance, succeeding about as well. Meaning, my heart was hammering. "Yeah. But everything about us is crazy. Right? I mean, is it normal for two people to fall in love as quickly and intensely as you and I have?"
"No, I'm not sure it is exactly normal." He glanced at me. "Does it seem like it would be rushing things?"
"That's my worry. What if this is...I don't know, a honeymoon period or something?" I rushed the next words out. "I'm not saying I don't want to. I do. I really do. I'm just...this whole thing between us scares me sometimes."
Cade threaded his fingers through mine. "Me, too."
"You really want to live with me?" I asked.
"Yeah. Absolutely." His amber gaze was serious and intense. "I want everything with you. I want you all to myself. I want to have our place and be able to lock the door and keep you in bed with me until we can't move anymore. I want to be able to watch you walk around naked all day. I don't want to have to leave you to get more clean clothes. I want to spend every moment of my life with you."
I melted, sank against him. "Don't you ever get tired of me? Don't you ever want your own space?"
He shook his head. "No. I miss you every single second I'm away. I have trouble focusing in class because I want to be home with you. I want to do homework together. I want to cook dinner together. I don't want space. I've been alone for so long, essentially on my own, even if there were people in my life who did care." He eyed me with curiosity. "Do you need space?"
I squeezed his arm. "No! That's not my point. I just...I feel the same way. I just didn't want to seem clingy, or too...too needy, I guess. Like I can't be away from you for an hour without getting all mushy. But I can't. I am clingy. I am needy. I was just...I wanted you to know that you can have your space, if you need room to breathe."
He leaned his head against mine. "I don't have any need to breathe. You are my breath."
I heard a coughed laugh of disbelief from behind us. I turned in place to see a middle-aged man sitting alone, wearing a faded Van Halen T-shirt and a tattered trucker's hat. "Sorry, I'm not trying to eavesdrop. You two are just so fucking sweet it's making my teeth hurt. You should just get married and get it over with. Seriously." He shook his head, jamming a huge bite of gyro in his mouth and continuing to talk around it. "I can honestly say I've never felt that way about anyone. I didn't think it was real. You two are like...fucking Hollywood romance characters or some shit."
Cade and I laughed as we slid out of the booth and paid our bill, but I saw a thoughtful look on Cade's face as we drove back to my dorm. We let ourselves in, only to stop in awkward shock. Steph was on the couch, on top of a guy I'd never met before, riding him. They were both completely naked, his hairy legs bent, feet braced against the arm of the couch, Steph leaning back, face tipped up to the ceiling, hands in her now-burnt orange hair, massive tits bouncing as she rocked on her new boyfriend/latest fling, moaning loudly.
She heard us come in, gasped in shock, leaned down over the guy, with her hands covering her boobs. "Oh, my god!" she shrieked. "I'm so sorry! I thought you'd be gone longer."
I had no idea what to say, what to do. Cade pulled me into a stumbling walk, into my room, and closed the door behind me. As soon as the door latched, I heard Steph moan, heard the slap of flesh and the grunts of her guy. I hurried to plug my phone into my dock, cranking up the volume until I couldn't hear my roommate's sex noises. "Bulletproof Weeks" by Matt Nathanson isn't really blast-it-until-you're-deaf music, but it served the purpose.
I collapsed onto my bed, laughing. "Oh...my...god. I could've gone the rest of my life without seeing that."
"Yeah, it was kind of a shock."
I grabbed his arm, shaking him. "I knew Steph was pretty stacked, but...Jesus, did you see the size of her boobs? They were huge!"
Cade colored. "Couldn't help but notice them," he mumbled, then grinned. "I prefer yours."
I slapped his arm. "You'd better!"
"You're the one who asked me if I'd seen them," he pointed out. "I couldn't not see them. They were...rather prominent."
"Why do you like mine better? Hers are bigger."
He frowned. "Well, they're attached to you, for starters. And it's not just about size. You ever see pictures of those ladies who get, like, triple-F implants? There's nothing sexy to me about tits the size of basketballs. They're just these big, fake, plastic...things. Yours are the perfect size. Big, round, soft. They bounce and jiggle. Fake tits don't. And yours...god, I don't even know if I can put it into words. Like I said, they're you. Part of you."
I leaned into him. "Good answer, babe."
He laughed. "Not hard to get that one right. I love you, and I want you." He made a face. "I think you should help me erase the mental image I've got going on, though."
"Yeah?" I pulled down on my V-neck, exposing more of my cleavage. "Like this?"
He bobbled his head from side to side. "It's a start. Maybe a little more."
I lifted the hem of my shirt up so the bottom of my bra and a little skin showed. "How about now?"
"I think maybe if you got rid of the shirt entirely, it'd be better." He scooted back on the bed, put his spine against the wall, crossing his arms over his chest, eyes on me.
"If I take off my shirt, you have to take off yours," I said, grasping the hem of my shirt in preparation to strip it off.
"Fair enough." Cade had his off in a blink, chest muscles rippling as he tossed the shirt aside. "Your turn."
I peeled mine off more slowly, wadded it into a ball, and threw it at his face. He put it to his nose and sniffed, then set it aside. "Is the mental image gone yet?"
"Nope. I think I still need to see more of you."
I grinned at him. "Well, then, maybe you should take off more of your clothes. I have my own mental images going on, you know." I faked a shudder. "Those skinny, hairy legs..." He laughed, slid off the bed, and stood directl
y behind me. I swiveled on the bed to face him. He unbuttoned his jeans in a flash, but I stopped him. "Slowly. I like to watch you undress, too, you know."
He frowned, as if this hadn't occurred to him before. Then he shrugged and unzipped his jeans, more slowly this time, teasingly. When the zipper was down, he glanced at me, then rezipped and drew it back down again before tugging the denim down around his hips. I couldn't help biting my lip as the bulge in his boxers was revealed, and I lifted an eyebrow at him, expectantly. He tugged the jeans back up, then grabbed the waist of the jeans and the boxers together, shoved them down together, baring his semi-rigid cock for me. Then back up, just as I was beginning to contemplate using my mouth to make him all the way hard. I'd used my mouth on him a few times since that first time, but never to orgasm. He'd always stopped me so he could get inside me, so he could come inside me. I loved the way he'd pull me away desperately, muscles tensed, eyes hot, the way he'd plunge into me and move slowly, deliberately teasing us both.
He pushed his jeans off, just the jeans this time, and stepped out of them, then crossed his arms and waited. I stood up, my boobs touching his chest. I couldn't resist kissing his skin, his chest just above his nipple, just once, and then I unbuttoned my own jeans, unzipped them, stepped out, kicked them aside. He reached for his boxers, but I stopped him.
"Let me." I pulled the elastic waistband down around his hips, to his thighs, to his knees, sinking downward with them so I knelt in front of him, glancing up with a sultry smile. Before he could move, I had him in my mouth, sucking hard and taking him deep, just to the point of gagging. He dipped at the knees, and then I stood up, satisfied with my handiwork. He was hard as rock now, standing upright against his belly.
He mimicked my maneuver, pulling my panties down and going to his knees as he lowered them, putting his mouth to my core and flicking his tongue through my entrance, once, twice, three times, just enough that I shuddered and felt myself go wet with anticipation.
I still had my bra on, and Cade was watching me expectantly as he stood up. I reached behind myself, freed the clasps, and shrugged my arms out of the straps, and then it was gone, at my feet, and Cade's hands were on me, caressing my skin, thumbs brushing my nipples, bringing them erect.
Cade pulled me against him, crushed his mouth to mine and kissed me as though starved, despite having made love to me less than two hours before. No matter how many times we had sex, he always made love to me as if for the first time, as if he couldn't ever get enough. He kept kissing me, and every time I thought he'd break away and push me to the bed, he would renew the kiss, his hands chaste on my back, my waist, holding me against him.
Finally, my own desperation had me breaking the kiss first, pushing at him, shoving him to the bed, to his back, crawling over him and straddling him. He shifted beneath me, and then I felt the broad head of his cock against my folds, and I breathed a sigh as he lifted his hips, pressing the tip inside me. I moved away from him, though, making him wait the way he'd made me wait. I smiled down at him, my hands on his chest, my hair hanging in loose black waves around his face. His palms skated over my skin, up my spine and down, over my hips and thighs and up to my tits, cupping them and squeezing them and lifting, pinching my nipples and moving downward. I kept my weight forward, letting the tip of his erection stay inside but not letting him in any further.
I was only teasing myself, though. I wanted him deep; I needed his fullness within me.
"God, Ever. I need it. I need to be inside you." He lifted his hips, but I moved with him, away from his questing thrust.
"Hold still," I murmured. "Just wait." He froze, and I pressed a kiss to his mouth. "In fact, don't move at all. Let me do everything."
He slid his hands to my hips, gripped me in the bent crease where thigh met hip. "I'm not sure I can..."
I fluttered my hips, slight, small movements, not enough to let him in, but enough to tease him. "Try, my love."
I waited until he was still beneath me, and then, in a single swift motion, impaled him deep. He filled me, stretched me, and I had to let myself adjust to his size. I couldn't breathe, my mouth wide and brow furrowed as I felt his huge, thick cock buried inside my pussy. I shifted my weight forward, palms flat on his stomach, and he slid out of me, inch after inch of silky hardness carving against my sensitive folds. I paused with him nearly slipping out, and then crashed my hips against his, and he groaned with me. The next thrust was slower, and when I had him poised at my entrance a third time, I buried my face against his neck and adjusted myself so he was stretched away from his torso. This time, when I slid down his length, his thick shaft dragged against my clit, and I couldn't help the gasping whimpers that escaped me.
I did it again and again, slowly, so slowly, my clit stuttering against his sliding erection. I clawed my fingers into his muscles as I felt a climax rising inside me, but I refused to hurry, refused to relax the stretching of his cock. He was groaning, trembling. He wanted to thrust, wanted to take control, but he was obeying me, letting me do what I wanted.
"Are you close?" I asked. "I'm almost there."
"Yeah," he grunted, "I'm so close."
"Come for me, Cade," I said, sliding down his length.
I felt him strain, shift slightly, saw the desperation in his eyes. "I can't," he groaned. "Not like this, not stretched like this."
"Does it hurt?"
"Not really. It just...I'm there, but I can't--can't--"
I interrupted him with a gasp, pressing my lips to his and stealing his words, his breath, feeling the climax approaching like the edge of a storm. I moved slowly still, pressing my clit against his length, greedy to feel the way his hardness felt inside me, the way it made me shiver and twitch with each inch of him sliding inside me.
Between one breath and another, orgasm washed through me, exploding inside me, taking control. I sank down on him, burying him deep. I was so wet, so slick, and he shuddered inside me, deep, so deep. I clamped my teeth together and fought the scream that was bubbling in my throat. Everything inside me shook and twisted, heat billowing through me. I leaned back to sit on my shins, lifted up and sank down, again, and again, rocking my climax harder and harder, and then I felt him explode, felt his cock throb and thicken and unleash, felt the hot flood of his come, and I lifted and sank, screaming through my teeth. Cade was moaning with me, hands on my hips, helping me lift up and jerking me back down, crushing our hips together, slamming his cock into me.
I couldn't hold myself upright any longer and fell forward against Cade's chest, my body trembling, pussy quaking, muscles like jelly, and still Cade was thrusting, coming, groaning, and then he, too, was still and gasping.
After several silent, breathless moments, I shifted so he slipped out of me and I rolled into his embrace. "So, does this mean we're moving in together?" I asked.
He didn't answer immediately. "I have an ever better, crazier idea."
I knew what he was about to say, and my heart stopped, because I knew I'd say yes. "Okay?"
"Marry me?" I opened my mouth to speak, but he kept going. "Before you say yes, I'm not saying let's get engaged. I'm saying...let's elope. Get married, like, tomorrow. Buy a condo in Royal Oak or something. Just...fuck it, start our lives together. I'll never want anyone but you, never love anyone but you. I want our lives, our every single day to be spent together, as one."
I felt tears prick my eyes. "Don't fuck with me, Cade." I heard the anger in my own voice, the fear and the doubt. "Are you serious?"
He rolled on top of me, pinning me to the bed, his flame-hot amber eyes blazing. "I've never meant anything more in my life. I've never--never wanted anything so much. I know it's completely batshit insane. I knocked on your door two weeks ago, and now I'm saying we should fucking elope. I knocked on your door and saw you for the first time in four years and knew I'd never love anyone else. Two weeks, yeah, but it might as well be a lifetime."
I wrapped my arms around his neck, my legs around his. "Yes, Caden. Yes. Y
es." I breathed in his ear. "Yesyesyesyes. A thousand yeses. A million. Forever yes."
"I don't have a ring. I don't even really know where you go to get married when you elope except Vegas, and we both have midterms coming up. But--"
"I don't care. I don't need a ring. I just need to be your wife." It felt so crazy to say that, it just toppled out of my mouth unbidden, and it made me giddy and terrified.
Cade buried his face against my throat and laughed. "Shit, that sounds...insane and amazing. My wife. Husband and wife. Ever Monroe."
"Ever Monroe." It sounded...perfect. "God, I like that."
"Me, too." He kissed me then, and I kissed him back until neither of us could breathe, but there was no need to breathe, for we had each other, sharing breath, sharing minds and hearts and bodies and eternities.
forever and always
"You're insane," Eden whispered to me. "Are you sure you want to do this?"
It was four days after Caden's impulsive afterglow proposal, and we had a signed marriage certificate, my twin as a witness, and we were standing in a tiny chapel connected to a quaint bed and breakfast Caden had found online that had "elopement specials" and a last-minute opening. He'd thrown this whole thing together in a matter of forty-eight hours. I'd expected a county courthouse justice-of-the-peace wedding, but of course, Caden had surprised me.
"It might be a crazy last-minute elopement," he'd told me, "but you still deserve at least a little romance."
He'd told me to go a salon and get "done up," as he'd put it, and let him worry about everything. So I had, and I'd found myself begging Eden to come with me, to get our hair and nails done. She'd agreed to the manicure, since I was paying, and had listened skeptically as I tried to explain. She hadn't quite understood, but she was my twin and she'd come with us to the B&B as our only guest and witness.
I stood on the far side of the doors of the chapel, dressed in a simple sleeveless, off-the-rack wedding dress with a plunging neckline, clutching a bouquet of roses, trembling.