kissing me all over now, nuzzling me gently. Dragging his lips everywhere along my bare skin, until they were finally pressed against mine again.
Our eyes met, all glassy and dazed. There was an unspoken understanding in them. A familiarity that was wholly comforting.
“Welcome home,” he breathed, kissing me gently.
Four
WARREN
The strangest part about making love to her was that it wasn’t strange at all. It felt amazingly natural. Like sliding into something warm and familiar and even beautiful.
In short, the perfect fit.
The first time we did it was quick and furious; an explosion of long pent-up emotions and raw sexual energy. We lay for a while afterward, neither of us saying much of anything. And then we went at it again, this time more slowly so we could enjoy every dripping second.
I marveled at Kayla’s body as she rode me cowgirl-style, brushing her hair back from her amazing breasts so I could bury my face between them. She felt silky and exquisite, wrapped tightly around me. Her nipples bounced gently against my questing lips, as I took my time kissing and licking and devouring her.
Out through the windshield, the old screen loomed over us like a wounded giant. I couldn’t count how many times we’d been here, how many movies we’d seen. How many times our young, eager hands had fumbled around in the darkness, touching and rubbing. Playing games far more subtle than the ones we were playing right now, which ended with Kayla throwing her head back and shrieking like a banshee as I erupted inside her.
Still straddling me, we held each other for what seemed like a very long time. Then we cleaned up and stretched out, with Kayla laying her head in my lap the way she traditionally loved to do.
“Soo… what about Luke?”
She asked the question carefully, making sure to avoid my gaze. Instead, she focused on playing with her nails.
“Luke’s around,” I said noncommittally. “Somewhere.”
“Still in town?”
“Uh huh.”
My hands were sifting unconsciously through her hair, as they always did. Combing it lovingly. Fanning it out, over the tops of my thighs.
“And what about Adrian?”
My thoughts drifted off to our fourth friend — the last and most radical of our tight-knit little group. Adrian had been an enigma throughout our childhood. He probably still was.
“We lost touch for a while,” I admitted. “Last I heard he was down at the coast, working odd dock jobs. Went out on a couple of commercial boats. He did some logging, too.”
“Sure,” she laughed. “The usual dangerous stuff.”
“Yeah. That’s Adrian alright.”
Her hair was impossibly soft and feathery, as smooth as spun silk. Exactly as my fingers remembered.
“Think he’ll be here for the funeral?” asked Kayla, when I didn’t immediately answer.
“Possibly,” I shrugged. “He and Elizabeth were close.”
“We were all close,” Kayla argued.
“True.”
“It’s so crazy, isn’t it? Her dying like that?” Kayla’s voice softened, to where it was nearly drowned out by the rain. “To think of her being just… gone?”
Not just gone, the little voice in my head said sternly. Forever gone.
My lips went tight. The acknowledgment was grim.
“Yes,” I practically whispered. “It’s definitely crazy.”
Kayla glanced up at me, batting those seductive, almond-shaped eyes. Were they hazel? Green? They always seemed to change color, with every trick of the light or shadows.
“Thank you.”
She said the words so sweetly it made my hand stop mid-stroke. At that moment, lying in my lap and framed by her hair, she wasn’t just beautiful. She was breathtakingly gorgeous
“For what?”
“For bringing me here,” she said softly. “For remembering… this.”
My lips cracked a sardonic grin. “Well it’s not like I could ever forget this place,” I pointed out.
“I know. And neither can I.” She looked around again, staring dazedly at the rain-streaked windows. “But still… this was perfect,” she sighed happily. “Exactly what I needed to not feel like such a stranger anymore.”
My smile widened. “So you’re saying I’m perfect.”
“No,” she giggled. “Not even close.”
“Then you’re saying my sex is perfect. That I just sexed you up in the most perfect way.”
“Your sex is fantastic, don’t get me wrong,” she smiled. “But perfect? That’s a little bit of a stretch.”
“Oh really?” I sat up straighter, my honor suddenly at stake. “And what could I have possibly done better?”
“Hmmm…” she mused, twirling a lock of her own hair. She was teasing me, I knew. It was something she’d always been good at.
“Well for one, perfect sex happens in a nice big bed. Not the back seat of a 50-year old car.”
“But the leather back here has been