Over the Hills and Far Away (NOLA's Own #1) (43 page)

“She took it,” I replied, feeling the smile slide off my face.

“From who?”

Is he serious? Doesn’t he realize I’m the little girl in the photo?

I walked up to him, not at all happy with what his tone was implying, and I snatched the frame out of his hands.

“You know, I’m not sure I should be dating someone this dense,” I snipped at him.

The fury in his eyes blazed hotter.

I pulled the photo out of the frame and handed it to him, the back facing up. “She
took
the damn picture, ass!”

He glanced down to read it, and his eyes widened with shock. I was about to turn on my heel to stomp my way to the kitchen when his hand shot out and tightly grabbed my wrist. His jaw was slack, and his eyes were filling with…
tears.

“It’s
you
,” he whispered. He swallowed hard.

Still seething a bit, I scathingly retorted, “No shit, Sherlock.”

“Kenna…” His voice caressed out my name, and I felt my heart melt a little. “You don’t understand.”

“You’re right. I don’t.”

“I
remember
her…you!” he said. “My whole life, I’ve remembered this little girl. I think she’s my first real memory. This has been my favorite Christmas for more than twenty years and for nothin’ else but that beautiful little girl. She was this little box of warmth and light, like livin’ sunshine, and she completely stole my heart. She lit up my whole world for that one week.”

A fat tear rolled down his face, and I just stared at him in total astonishment. My eyes were filling with tears, and soon, I’d be breaking out in snorting sobs.

Phil took a deep breath. “My life was a dark place then, Kenna. My mom was a nasty drunk, and she…she used to beat the shit out of me. My dad was a wreck. Then, this little girl came into my world and made it a wonderful place.
To this day
, I still think of her. She…she was my first love.”

My soul ached something fierce, and it was so quiet that, for the first time, I really took notice of the thunder and deluge of rain pouring down around the house. Gently, he tugged on my wrist, and he pulled me to him and settled me onto his lap to straddle his waist. He wrapped his arms around me, hugging me tight and burying his face in my hair.

“I love you, Kenna,” he whispered to me, his hands clasping me hard. “I’ve loved you my
whole life
, Baby Girl.”

Swallowing around the lump in my throat, I wrapped my arms around him, hugging him back. “I love you, too.”

His whole body swelled in my arms, filling with his breath. He pulled back, so he could look into my eyes.

“I don’t know how I didn’t realize it was
you.
There’s really no one else you
could
be,” he said.

Tugging off my tank top, he rolled us back onto the bed. Pulling off my underwear, he settled between my thighs and sank in deep, inch by agonizing inch. His hands reached out, and he ran his fingertips over my face, my lips.

“There’s never been anyone else. Just you,” he stated. “Only you.”

Hot and soft, his lips pressed to mine.

This time, it was slow and achingly tender—him riding into me with long, deep strokes, dragging out the moment. We were both so desperate to make this last, to feel and experience every tiny movement of the other, to build it up to the ultimate release.

“After we met that night at Bougainvillea,” he said softly, his voice barely above a whisper, “I’ve spent every night since then dreaming of this moment. I’d fantasize myself to sleep, imagining I was safe and warm inside you.”

His eyes burned into mine, stripping me down to my soul, laying me bare. That spot within me was sparkling with each thrust. Every time he touched it, an intense warmth built up inside. Of their own accord, my eyes drifted closed, letting my other senses take over.

“God, I love this,” he murmured. “Watching you come…I’ve never seen anything more beautiful.”

My neck arched, and my lips parted as my head tilted back.

“None of my fantasies of you came close to
this,
” he half-whispered, half-moaned.

“Oh God!” I gasped. “Phil!”

I clenched around him hard, making him groan. He slid one arm under my back while the other snaked through my hair. His mouth covered mine in a mindless hungry kiss.

“Phil…” I begged him on a dry sob.

“Tell me, Baby Girl.”

“Harder.”

He picked up the pace, pushing me higher and higher, until everything I ever was shattered into a million pieces. Lost and scattered, I wasn’t too sure I could ever recover from this.

“Oh
fuck,
Kenna!”

The sound of his voice pulled all those pieces back together, sealing them up again. He started to pound into me, driving home, desperate to fuse us together. He stiffened all over, his back bowing, his cock jerking hot and hard.

Third Eye-to-Third Eye, Phil dropped his brow to mine, and we were both fighting for breath. My arms clutched him to me as tightly as he had me, the heavy pounding of his heart matching my own, reverberating through me.

“I’m dyin’,” he panted. “I’ve died. I must be dead.”

“Why do you say that?” I asked, a bit winded.

“Because—” He swallowed hard. “Because I’ve surpassed bliss. I’ve just felt the greatest peace I’ve ever known, and it’s in
you.
”

Outside, the thunderstorm raged, rain lashing at the windows. Lying next to me, he took my hand, lacing our fingers. For some moments, we were lost to our own thoughts, listening to the storm.

“I love this weather,” I sighed.

“Me, too,” he confessed softly.

I could still feel him, like an echo bouncing around inside of me. It was almost as if he was still riding in and out. It wasn’t unlike the last six years—him being a part of me, but not really
there
.

“I need something to drink,” I said, swallowing around my dry throat.

“Yeah.”

Wincing with the burning twinge deep inside me, I slowly sat up.

Shit, it’s like losing my virginity all over again!

Well, no, not exactly. Maybe just the aftereffects.

I was raw and sore, and I could only hope he’d break me in with some regular hard use.

Gingerly, I pulled on my underwear, feeling even more of him leaking out of me. It seemed to be such an intimate thing, having the essence of Phil dripping out of my lady bits. I was glad that he was the first in that respect.

“What are you thinkin’?” he asked, sitting up and watching me.

“That I didn’t realize how gross letting a man cum inside me would be.” I laughed.

Maple sugar–colored eyes flashed with a bit of shock and pain.

“I’m teasing you, Phil. Jeez.”
No need to get all butt hurt.

“Is it really gross?” he asked timidly.

“No. I…I like feeling a part of you still inside me.”
Even if it is leaking all over my underwear.

Phil sucked in a sharp breath while I pulled my shirt on. “I like the idea of leaving a part of me inside you. It felt…really,
really
good. I’m never wrapping this shit up again.”

It
had felt pretty incredible. The hot satin of his skin sliding into me…was certainly something special.

We walked down the stairs, hands clasped, and we headed into the kitchen.

“You got any food?” he asked.

“Yeah. What do you want?”

“Just food.”

“Well, that narrows it down.” I laughed.

Filling a mason jar full of iced water, I chugged some down and then handed the rest over to him. He killed it and refilled it. I packed a bowl, and we smoked before I made him three massive roast beef and provolone sandwiches.

“My God, you’re an angel,” he groaned. He dug in. “Aren’t you hungry?”

“I’m good. I usually don’t eat after dinner.”

“Yeah, but we just burned dinner off,” he grunted around a mouthful of food.

For the life of me, I didn’t know why I found that so sexy, him talking with his mouth stuffed with food, but I did.

Thinking I was too sore to sit down on one of the stools, I busied myself with the earlier abandoned frying pan.

“Leave it. I’ll help you with that later. Come sit with me.”

Sighing, I headed to the freezer instead and pulled out a bag of frozen peas. It wasn’t like we ate these things. We’d bought them for just this purpose—well, for ice packs, not specifically for cooling down a pounded cunt. I tossed it onto the stool and sat my crotch directly over it.

Phil stopped mid-chew. “Shit, is it bad?”

“No, babe—”

His eyes narrowed, and he had his pissy face on. “You promised you’d tell me if I hurt you!” he growled.

“You didn’t hurt me, Phil!” I snapped. “I’ve just had three hours of sex with the biggest cock I’ve ever encountered! It’s to be expected!”

“You’d tell me though, if you weren’t okay, right?”

“Yes.”

“Okay,” he grunted. Then, he continued eating.

“So, are you going to tell me why you’re such a weirdo about sticking your cock in all the way?”

“Huh?”

“What happened? Did you pile-drive some poor woman and ended up half killing her or something?”

He blushed, and I found that absolutely adorable. “Somethin’ like that.”

“Tell me about it.”

“You really want to hear about my previous sex life?” he asked, sounding slightly irritated.

“Well, it’s
previous
, isn’t it? We have nothing to be jealous of in that regard.”

“I don’t know about that. I think I’m pretty jealous of anythin’ that’s ever touched you.”

“Ridiculous,” I huffed. “Tell me.”

“It was my first girlfriend, Danica. I was a virgin. She wasn’t. I didn’t know all chicks weren’t one size fits all, and I sort of just…threw it in. I tore her up pretty bad, and we ended up havin’ to go to the hospital. She was sore for weeks after, and ever since then…”

“Yeah?” I prompted.

“I go pretty slow, and I never go all the way in—until tonight, that is.”

Okay. Now, I get it.
“How do you stop from going all the way in?”

“I hold it.”

Jeez, poor guy. How horrible to get freaked out the first time you have sex and having that fuck up your whole sex life for the next decade.

My crotch was feeling nice and frosty.

He was so sexy. The thing about it was, he didn’t even
try
. He made no attempt, and he was the sexiest thing ever. He simply oozed this primal sense of strength and confidence. He was who he was, and he just embraced it. What was even sexier was that he really couldn’t give two shits, especially not with half a sandwich stuffed in his face.

Phil fucking Deveraux is sitting in my kitchen, eating a sandwich—in his underwear.

He reached for the mason jar and took a gulp of water. He glanced at me, totally busting me as I checked him out. Shit, even my mouth was hanging open a little. Thankfully, I was not drooling.

“Wussup?”

“Nothing,” I replied, feeling myself blush.

“Liar.”

“Fine! I’m just tripping out that Phil fucking Deveraux
is having a sandwich in my kitchen in his Skivvies. Okay?”

“Yeah, well, I’m afraid my dick’s too chafed for pants. It’s raw enough to fall off.”

“Would you like a bag of frozen peas?” I asked sweetly with a hint of cheek.

We both started cracking up, and I was so sore that my crotch throbbed, which made me laugh even harder. I must have been really stoned because I couldn’t stop laughing to save my life, and I clutched the frozen peas to my crotch, hoping that it would cool down the ache.

“You all right, Baby Girl?”

“No! I’m not! I’ve just lost my damn mind!” I cried. Tears were liberally pouring out of my eyes, and I just lost it.
Fuck it.

“My God, I’ve broken you, haven’t I?” he asked, another half of a sandwich tucked into his cheek.

I nodded, wheezing and snorting with my laughter. I was laughing so hard that I fell off the stool, hitting the floor with my ass. I was still clutching the frozen peas to my crotch.

The sight of Phil standing up, looking down at me, with his eyes wide—probably wondering if I truly was broken in the head—and half a sandwich in his hand…it was all too much. I went into hysterics.

Damn, these are some fine-ass Northern Lights.

His shoulders started to shake, and it wasn’t too long before he ended up sitting next to me on the floor, laughing his head off, too.

Wiping his tears off his face with the back of his hand, he gasped, “What the hell was that all about?”

“I don’t even remember. I guess you really did break me.”

He gathered me into his arms, kissing the side of my head. “I don’t remember the last time I’ve laughed so hard.”

“For real.”

“Let’s get off the floor.”

“Yeah, all right,” I said. I stood up, tossing the bag of soggy peas into the kitchen sink.

“How are you doing?” he asked, looking at me with concern.

“Better,” I assured him.

“Yeah? Walk in front of me up the stairs. I wanna see if you limp.”

“Ass,” I snapped.

I headed for the stairs, attempting to keep my gait smooth and even. By the sound of his laugh, I had failed miserably. He lifted me and carried me the rest of the way.