he was maybe even halfway in love with her. Instead of letting her know he had real feelings for her, he blurted out that sex-crazed crap?
And she said… okay? He must be losing his mind. “Okay?” he repeated, thinking he’d fantasized her response.
She nibbled on her lush lower lip, torturing him. “Yeah. But just this once.”
He was already up and across the room, shrugging out of his backpack. “Why?”
She sat down on the bed, stretching her arms out behind her and bracing her palms on the surface. The position lifted her breasts, causing the impressive swells to strain against the edge of her top. “Because I want to.”
His throat went dry and his hands itched to touch her. Rubbing his sweaty palms against his jeans, he took a seat beside her. “I mean, why only once?”
“I have my reasons.”
Call him insane, but he was kind of reluctant. He’d been obsessing about this moment for the past four years. Dirty-dream sequences and
Her eyes softened. “No. I’d be proud to be your girl.”
“Then why-”
“Shh,” she said, putting her fingertip against his lips. “I don’t want to talk.”
He didn’t understand her, or even really believe her, but when she continued to touch his lips, tracing them lightly and staring at his mouth as if there was something interesting about it, all of the blood in his head went south, robbing him of the ability to think. And when she leaned toward him, brushing her thoroughly delicious lips over his completely unremarkable ones, any second thoughts he’d been entertaining fled.
By the way she plastered herself against him, clutching the front of his shirt, he was pretty sure she didn’t want to take it slow. He did, so he put his hands on her hips and held her back a little. Using one of the techniques she taught him, he tugged her lower lip into his mouth, sucking gently.
She made a low, urgent sound, somewhere between a growl and a moan, and shoved at his shoulders.
He released her immediately.
She pushed him down on the bed and climbed on top of him, straddling his hips. The proof of his arousal was right there, pulsing against her, and he knew she could feel it, because she rubbed herself along him, her dark eyes burning into his.
And as if that weren’t enough to send him over the edge, she lifted her shirt and tossed it aside.
“Oh my God,” he groaned. Her bra was black as sin and twice as sexy, her pinup model breasts threatening to spill over the lacy cups. Not sure if he wanted to stop her or encourage her to keep moving, he gripped her slim hips. “You’re killing me.”
She smiled and tugged on his T-shirt. He leaned forward, helping her take it off, and when his bare chest met her luscious breasts, he knew he’d died and gone to heaven.
His mouth sought hers, and he was no longer interested in, or capable of, taking it slow. He deepened the kiss and thrust his lower body against hers, intent on penetrating every part of her he could get access to. He wanted to touch every part of her, and taste it, too, so he reached for her breasts. “Oh, God,” he repeated, enraptured by the feel of all that soft, lace-encased flesh in his hands. Her nipples burned into the centers of his palms.
“Dylan,” she said, covering his hands with hers and squeezing harder.
He didn’t know how to take her bra off, and he wasn’t even going to try. Instead he touched his lips to her bare shoulder, delighting in the way she shivered, and nudged the silky black strap aside. It slipped down, hanging in a sexy loop on her upper arm. He pushed the other strap off her shoulder, but the cups of her bra stayed up.
He frowned, trying to make it disappear with his eyes.
With a breathy laugh, she threaded her fingers through his short hair and brought his mouth back to hers. They tangled together, tongues and hands and bodies. For a moment, he was lost in a round of frantic kissing and fervent groping, reveling in the heat of her mouth and the soft weight of her body flexing against his. Her bra didn’t disintegrate, but he was able to get the lacy cup down far enough that her nipple popped free. Mesmerized by the sight, he leaned forward and wet the dusky tip with his tongue.
She moaned, tightening her grip on his hair.
It hurt. And he loved it.
Panting, he pushed down the fabric covering her other nipple and repeated the action, looking for the same response. He got it. Moaning and hair-pulling.
Jesus God.
She smelled so… womanly, like rose-scented soap and freshly washed hair, and her skin was so… warm. He buried his face between her breasts and tightened his hands on her hips, praying for strength, patience, and longevity.
“Do you have a condom?” she asked, stroking the back of his neck.
He tried to reel his brain back in. It was a monumental task. “I think so,” he rasped. “I mean, yeah. It’s in my wallet.”
“Is it old?”
He blinked up at her. “A couple months, maybe.”
She sat back and held out her palm. “Let’s see it.”
He kept his wallet in his front pocket because he didn’t like sitting on it at school all day, so she had to lift up a little to give him access. Taking the square package out, he handed it to her, trying not to feel embarrassed about the no-frills, “one size fits all” option. Not to mention the straining erection it would soon cover. Right now his dick felt big enough to burst, but he wasn’t so warped he thought he needed Magnums.
She inspected the package and nodded, apparently satisfied that the latex hadn’t been disintegrating in his wallet for the past four years.
They were being responsible, and he was glad, but the short interruption had changed the dynamic between them. She nibbled at her lower lip, appearing shy and uncertain and far more innocent than her sexy body and provocative lingerie suggested.
She looked scared.
He knew exactly how she felt. “We don’t have to do this,” he said, clearing his throat. “I mean, I want to, obviously, but… I’d rather have you forever than just this once.”
To his bewilderment, tears filled her eyes. She leaned forward and pressed her lips to his collarbone, her black hair spilling across his chest. “This is all I can give you, Dylan,” she whispered. “Make just this once last forever.”
No pressure, though.
Desperate not to disappoint her, even though he was confused by her behavior, he rolled her onto her back. He might not know anything about sex, and he would never be an expert on the female brain, but he knew what his own body was begging for. He covered her mouth with his and ground his hips against hers, trying to possess her through layers of denim.
Maddened by the restrictions, he ended the kiss. “Take off your pants.”
Her eyes darkened and her breath hitched. Holding his gaze, she undid the top button on her jeans. Unable to help himself, he looked down as she lowered her zipper, revealing a strip of silky-looking skin, the pathway to heaven.
Eager to see more, he moved to the side, giving her room to maneuver.
As if she was afraid she might chicken out, she shucked out of her jeans quickly. Her panties weren’t black, like her bra. Nor were they lace. They were hot pink and very sheer, showcasing the shadowy triangle between her legs.
Dylan almost swallowed his tongue. He couldn’t believe this was happening. Earlier today he’d barely escaped getting hauled off to jail. And now he was in bed with a girl who looked like a
“Thank you, Jesus,” he breathed, beholding God’s most perfect creation.
She smiled a little but still seemed nervous, so he made no move to take off her panties. He did release the buttons on his fly, because his dick was aching, and then he went ahead and shoved down the front of his boxers, because-well, fuck it.
