Free One Southern Night by Marissa Carmel Page A

naked. I grab the other blanket and cover us as I nestle myself back between her knees. Laney folds her arms around me, bringing us as close as we can possibly be. I touch every part of her I can, skin-to-skin, mouth-to-mouth. I slip my hand between our bodies and skim her clit with one finger. She whimpers. It spurs me on, so I slip the same finger inside her and her body tenses.
    “Oh, God …” She digs her nails into my shoulders. I finger her slow and suck on her neck. “Kam, please not like this.”
    “Not like what? You have to tell me what you want, Laney.”
    “You. Only you.” She attacks my mouth, and I almost combust. I reach for my pants and pull out my wallet, then two blue foil packets. Laney grabs one. She tears it open, removes the condom, then reaches down between us. I watch as she sheaths my erection; the feel of her hands is euphoric.
    “Fuck, I need to be inside you.” I pump my hips against her palm.
    “No one is stopping you.” She opens her legs a little wider. I love this girl. I am stupidly, ridiculously in love with Laney Summers. I push inside her gradually, savoring every measured inch. Her body welcoming me like a warm embrace. Laney wraps her legs around my waist, and we start to move, searching for a comfortable rhythm. After a minute or two we find it, and that’s when all sense and reason fades away. There’s only Laney; underneath me, folded around me, seeping inside me.
    “Kam, you feel so good.” She flexes her hips, like I can’t thrust deep enough. Her muscles clench and her eyes close, as her breathing becomes choppy. “Please don’t stop.”
    “Never.” I push her toward her orgasm, giving her everything she demands from my body until she breaks. Being with Laney is beyond amazing; her smell, her sounds, the way she feels. It’s sensation overload.
    “Oh, God!” She comes in a rush, propelling my release. With my own climax threatening, I wring out every drop of ecstasy from her I can.
    As she writhes and moans beneath me, I explode, my body seizing in pure rapture. When my orgasm releases me, I drop down into Laney’s waiting arms. She hugs me tight. I hug her back; scenting her skin, skimming my teeth against her flesh, memorizing every luscious inch of her.
    “Is that the first time you ever blew the whistle on the fifty-yard line?” she asks while gliding her fingers up and down my back.
    I chuckle. “Yes. You?”
    Laney laughs. “Definitely.”
    “How was it?”
    “Unforgettable.”
    I peck her on the lips. I am idiotically happy at the moment. And it’s not because I just got laid. I very reluctantly withdraw from Laney --I could stay buried in her all night—and roll onto my back, snuggling her into the crook of my arm. We lay quietly, me rubbing her hip, her rubbing my chest. For the first time in months, everything feels right. It’s like when Laney is next to me my life is aligned. I kiss her head.
    “What was that for?”
    “Nothin’.” I shrug. “Can’t a guy just kiss his girlfriend?”
    She glances up at me. “Is that what I am?”
    “Well, Lemon, when I said strings I wasn’t talking about shoelaces.”
    “Glad you made that clear.” She tightens her arm around me. I smile.
    “Why do you always smell so good?” I breathe her in. That strange, exotic scent is tingling my senses.
    “Because I shower.”
    I pinch her playfully. “Smart-ass city girl.”
    “Hey!” She flinches, giggling. “It’s Plumeria.”
    “Plum-whatta?”
    Now she is full-blown laughing. “It’s a flower that grows in Hawaii. My mom always brings me back perfume when she goes.”
    “Hawaii, huh?” I stare into the black ocean above us glowing with stars. “She ever take you on her business trips?”
    “If she can. And if I’m not in school. Why? Want to go to Hawaii?”
    “Might not be a bad idea. I’m going to have some free time on my hands.”
    “Why is that?”
    “Because I’m not going to play football anymore.” That’s the first