Always the One (Always and Forever 1)

lls start to function again, hitting me with the realization that we need to slow down. Yes, I’ve known Shay my whole life, but she doesn’t need her first time to be makeup sex. I may not be innocent from past indiscretions, but I won’t just give her a quick fuck. Call me a cheeseball, but she deserves flowers, candles, and fucking chocolates. She’s a treasure not a cheap toy.

“Wait, wait, Shay, we need to slow down.” I watch the look of desire vanish from her face and slowly see rejection creep into place. Immediately, I try to retract my last statement, that’s not why I want to stop. I need to stop because she’s too special to sleep with on what was supposed to be our first real date.

“You don’t want me?” Her head hangs low, like she’s ashamed of herself.

“No. Shit. Baby, that’s not what I meant.” I quickly stride toward her. Gently, I rest my palms against her warm cheeks, the once shade of red from arousal is now one of embarrassment. Making me feel like a complete dick.

“You’re irresistible. Trust me, I want nothing more than to drag you into that bedroom and worship your body until you’re ruined for any other man. But you deserve more than that. You deserve all the hearts and flowers, which I plan to give to you, but we’re new, baby, and we need to make sure we take our time. We have forever, let’s not forget to enjoy the learning process.”

I feel hopeful that I smoothed this over. I was wrong. A single tear rolls down her cheek and lands on the pad of my thumb. I feel the panic building in my chest, and my brain starts searching for another rebuttal to help her understand better. When I open my mouth to speak, she stops me and whispers a quiet understanding, one that I’m barely able to hear, but do.

“You’re right…thank you for being so good to me.” My heart rate drops back to normal, and I feel the weight lift from my shoulders. This is my girl. I know she’s a virgin; I overheard her talking to Lana about it the other day. The animal in me wants to claim that part of her and bang on my chest like King Kong. But the gentleman in me, the one who cares a lot for Shayla, makes me want to ease her into that. I don’t want her to have sex on my accord, only on hers. She needs the gentleman, not the animal…yet.

“Can you hold me tonight, the whole night this time?” Her mention of last night has my lip lifting at the corner, my body fills with contentment, admiration, and a feeling I’m not familiar with, but whatever it is, I never want it to stop. I was worried my fat mouth ruined my chance to be with her tonight, but luckily it hasn’t. She avoids drama and trusts me.

“Yeah, beautiful. I’d love that.” She slowly walks us back to the bedroom then strips down to her bra and panties. Biting my lip, I stare at the fucking fox in front of me. Her underwear is a matching white lace set, and fuck me, she looks like an angel. I know I’m gawking at her beautiful round ass when her movement causes me to break the trance. Removing her earrings and placing them on the dresser in front of her, I see the light blush creep across her face. She likes to be watched and she knows I’m watching her.

Standing up I remove my jeans and shirt slowly, giving her a show. Yeah, I see you looking, dirty girl. Lying back in bed once I’m in my briefs, I pull the covers up and slide into place. Finally comfortable, I look back over to her and our eyes connect through the mirror above her dresser. She stares at me with her beautiful green eyes. That weird feeling takes up residence in my chest again, the one I can’t seem to describe. It’s like someone’s grabbing it and squeezing it in a vice, so tight it might explode.

The spot where she last laid her head on me when she fell asleep—where she’d always fall asleep when we were growing up—feels warm already. Shayla and I have always had this bond, an unexplainable bond, where I was always her protector. She’d fall asleep on my chest when we’d all hang out and watch movies, she’d fall asleep when we’d have campfires after a long day of hiking. That spot on my chest, just above my heart, was made for her and no one else.

When the women I would use for a quick fuck would try to cuddle, I would kick them out, not allowing them to touch that spot. This spot is reserved for her, this spot is her home and this moment is my personal heaven. My past with using women is a distant thought, even though it really wasn’t too long ago. I guess you choose when it’s time to grow up and be a man. Let go of adolescent habits and create mature goals. Shayla’s friendship will be and always has been one of my greatest accomplishments; hopefully our budding relationship will be, too. My first choice in a long list of changes for the good.

Settling in next to me, we talk. Talking usually holds a different feeling when you are intimately involved versus just friends. Not with us, we talk like old friends with new stories to share. I reluctantly let her go a few hours later so she can shower. Resisting the urge to climb in that shower with her and give her a slow, hard fuck is killing me. Damn me and my new ways.

Trey

WATCHING HER SAUNTER SHYLY from the bathroom, wrapped in a plush white towel with her lip wedged between her teeth, I can tell she is still being timid with me. She watches me observe her every move; like I’m going to tell her she’s anything less than perfect. Yeah right. In reality, she makes me feel like I’m daydreaming or intoxicated, with a primal need to claim her as mine, not only to myself, but also to the fucking world.

“Come here, baby,” I say on a whisper. Holding out my hand, I gesture for her to claim her spot back on the bed, and with my other hand, I lift the blanket so she can. Her soft hand glides slowly to mine, and I pull her the rest of the way. Naturally, she falls into place and makes it her home. Her head molds perfectly to my chest, her arm encircles my waist, and her soft, tanned leg intertwines with mine. We fit like a puzzle piece, and out of all the other pieces of the puzzle, we found each other first. We fit just right.

“Thank you, Trey.” Her voice is soft but loud in the stillness of the late night hours.

“For what?”

“For being a gentleman and stopping us from going too far.” Rubbing up and down her arm and leaving featherlike kisses on her forehead, I feel her body go rigid against mine. “I mean…I know…it’s just—”

“I know, Shay.” I know damn well she’s thankful. But I also want to end her obvious discomfort. She’s never been good at expressing herself in awkward situations. We’re going to change that. No, I’m going to change that. With me, we’re not awkward and we’re not something to be uncomfortable about.

I continue. “That’s why when you give me that part of you, when you give me you completely, it’ll be special. We’re special, okay?” Innocent and vulnerable is who she is, and all I want her to know is that this isn’t an ending game for me; I’m in it for the long haul. She concedes and goes back to resting her head on my chest.

Changing the subject, I speak up, “Do you remember that one time you came over really upset with me because I ruined your date with Jesse Hanson in tenth grade?”

She giggles and looks up at me. “Yeah, I do. I was so mad at you for ruining my first chance with a guy. Gosh, you were such a jerk back then!” She punches me lightly in the stomach, I lift my free arm and grab the spot she just hit, laughing at her attempt to stick it to me.

I remember that day proudly. Clear as day, the memory comes flooding back.

SITTING HERE IN THE food court with Kings, Lana, and Shay, we’re chatting about the party at pretty boy Derek’s house that’s coming up this weekend. We laugh and trash talk about the likes of people that will be there and bet on what weird shit will go down. One year, his parents came home drunk and tried spiking the punch for all the underage party guests. His family is…unique. I’m next to Shayla, like always, drawn to her like a magnet is to metal. Finishing up, we pack up our books and shit to head out to the courtyard.

As we’re about to walk out of the cafeteria, I see Jesse, Shayla’s crush, walking toward her. She stumbles in front of me when she sees him. Fuck, I hate this guy and I hate that he has that effect on her.

“Hey, Shay,” he says, stepping beside me to talk to her.

Only I call her Shay. Fuck you, buddy. I watch her closely, knowing full well I’m squinting and my mouth is slightly agape, as I look at the two of them. I mean, the nerve of this fucker. I know Shayla is blind to it, because she’s just that innocent, but everyone knows I like her, even this ballsy tool. Everyone who doesn’t have a death wish knows to back the fuck off, but this guy’s a real fucking brave one.

“You look beautiful today.”

I watch the blush creep up her cheeks as she puts a strand of hair behind her ear. Wait, is she flirting? Her reaction to him has my fists curling into tight balls, my knuckles white.