This Hurt (This Boy Book 2)

by Jenna Scott

  “Does what bother me?”

  “That I’m…experienced?”

  She nips her bottom lip, avoiding my eyes. “It does and it doesn’t. I mean…I don’t want to think about you with someone else—which isn’t easy, because I’ve seen it—but obviously I get to reap the benefits, since practice makes perfect.”

  “You think I’m perfect?” I say with a grin. “In bed?”

  “Perfect for me,” she states simply.

  I’ve been complimented on my skills in the sack before, but it’s different coming from her. It makes me feel warm. Happy. To the point that something like a giggle comes out of me. Which, the fuck? ‘Cause I don’t remember turning into a little girl.

  “I think it’s more like we’re perfect together,” I say. “I may have been with a few other girls. But”—I tilt her chin up with my index finger, and our eyes meet again—“with you, it’s mind-blowing. Every time.”

  Milla gives me a little smile, and I know she’s blushing in the dark. “What, no one else has fucked you three times in less than twelve hours?”

  This is her attempt at a joke, but I’m not laughing. “I know you’re kidding, but no. No one else has done that to me.”

  “Yeah, right,” she snorts.

  “I’m serious.” I press my lips to hers. “You weren’t the only one who was out of control that night. Tell me more about the lighthouse. What you wanted.”

  Biting the inside of her cheek, Milla takes a moment to look at the cliffs below us, and the waves, crashing against the rocks. “I wanted you. I couldn’t stop wondering about the way you looked at me. And why you put your hand down my pants. And remembering how good it felt.” She brings her palms up to rest on my chest. “I couldn’t understand you, but I also couldn’t stop thinking about you. Imagining you.”

  “Couldn’t stop imagining my dick?” I joke with a smirk.

  At first, I think she’s going to avoid the question, but the side of her mouth curves in a lopsided smile. “Maybe. Just like you couldn’t stop imagining my pussy.”

  If she actually knew how much I imagined that cunt of hers, she wouldn’t have gone down this path. “So you admit it.”

  “Yes.” Milla arches her brows. “Do you?”

  “I do. I imagined you naked constantly,” I say like it’s obvious, because it is. Those weeks of jerking off to my imagination were blue-ball hell. So were the ones after I’d found out, when I knew exactly how hot and tight and utter perfection she really is—so much better than anything I’d conceived while fantasizing about her.

  “Oh really…”

  “Really. I jerked off to you all the time.” I don’t hesitate to admit it. She should know just exactly how much I craved her. “I’ve never wanted anyone so bad.”

  “Well, if we’re being honest...” She avoids my gaze once again. “I did the same with you. When I went home that night, I imagined you finishing what you started.”

  That sends a current of pure horniness straight to my dick. I’m already turning Milla around, pressing her back to the railing so her front is flush against me. “You don’t have to imagine it anymore, though,” I whisper, kissing her lips, grabbing her ass.

  Milla holds on to my neck, her tongue slipping into my mouth with a soft moan. We’re both breathing hard when we finally come apart. With a smile, she removes my hands and steps around me.

  “I suppose it’s fitting,” she says, fingers running down my torso to my belt, which she begins to unbuckle. “That a big dick like you has the equipment to match.”

  My heart stops. I’ve been a jackass, I know, but hearing it from her, in this situation, still kinda hurts. “You still think I’m a dick?”

  “You can be, yes, to some.” She palms the hard length of my cock over the fabric of my jeans before tugging down my zipper, flashing a little smirk. “But you’ve been good to me lately.”

  My eyebrows rise along with the corners of my lips. “This a reward fuck?”

  “It’s not a fuck.” Milla stands on her tiptoes to kiss me. “But it is a reward.”

  She falls to her knees in front of me, tugging down my boxers and then grabbing my thick shaft. Her eyes widen while she stares at my cock, then her lips flatten into a line and the surprise turns thoughtful. It’s like she’s trying to solve a puzzle.

  All I can think is: my girl is about to suck my dick. With everything she’s got.

  “Did you take it out for air?” I ask, knowing full well she didn’t.

  She looks up at me, smiling. “I did. The moonlight’s so pretty tonight, I wanted to see how your monster cock would look under it.”

  A chuckle leaves me, and I don’t know why it’s funny when she calls my cock a monster, but it is. It’s also endearing. And hot. “Well, then…how’s the effect?”

  “Very nice,” Milla says with a serious expression, stroking me with a firm grip, making me shudder. “But I’m wondering what it’ll look like when it’s wet.”

  Her tongue darts out to touch the head, warm against the cool night air.

  “Ahh,” I gasp. I can’t help but sway forward, pushing the tip against the seam of her lips. Milla opens her mouth, and takes my cock inside. “Fuck. Yeah,” I groan, straining against the wetness of her hot tongue.

  Our eyes lock as she tries to take in more of me, her hand moving to squeeze where her mouth can’t reach, and fucking hell. Watching her try to give me head is…oddly romantic. Which is a first. I never realized a blowjob could be this sweet.

  Then her thumb moves down to stroke to my balls, fondling them gently as she sucks, and I have to grit my teeth to keep from coming right here and now.

  I grab her hair, tugging softly at it. “How’d you know how to do that?”

  Her tongue dances along the head of my cock before she pulls it out of her mouth with a pop, her other hand holding me firmly. “I googled it.”

  A short burst of laughter leaves me as I picture her entering “how to give a blowjob” in a search box.

  She pouts. “What’s so funny?”

  “Nothing. Just imagining your internet search history.”

  “I didn’t want to go in completely clueless! And you don’t exactly have the easiest…situation…to get my mouth around.” Milla drags her fisted hands along my length, then holds me steady as she licks and kisses the tip.

  I suck in a breath. “Were you worried it wasn’t going to fit?”

  “With good reason. If my mouth was smaller, I wouldn’t be able to do this.” She parts her lips and takes me inside again, managing about halfway until she chokes a little and has to pull back. “Sorry. I want to do it, but…”

  “Why are you apologizing?” I brush her hair, and struggle against myself not to pull her mouth over the tip again. “I don’t expect you to deepthroat me on the first try. You can use your hands for the rest.”

  Milla does as I tell her, and my eyes close once she finds her rhythm. Sometimes, she lingers on the head, licking the underside, and I crack open my lids to see her looking up at me, probably to gauge my reaction. Her eagerness and determination make up for any lack of skill, and her soft moans and the sounds of suction have me teetering on the edge.

  I hold tight to the railing, moaning and grunting and trying my hardest not to push myself deeper into her mouth than she can take me. Milla speeds up her movements; it’s messy, and it’s hot, and it’s so incredibly perfect, I can’t take it.

  “Milla, I’m gonna—” I warn, thinking she’s going to pull away. But she twirls her tongue around the head of my cock again, and I can’t hold back anymore.

  In her mouth, in a hot, helpless rush—a mixture of ecstasy, pure animal release, and surrender—I explode, and even though she lets out a surprised whimper, she drinks it all, down to the last drop.

  I pull her up to me, wrapping her in a tight hug, nuzzling her hair. I’ve never felt so connected to someone after getting head. This is new to me.

  Clearing her throat, she quietly asks, “Was it good?” />
  “It was good,” I chuckle. “I’d show you the evidence, but you swallowed it.”

  “Well…” Milla pulls away slightly to tuck me back in and zip me up, leaving the belt for me. “Now I know what you taste like, too.”

  Fucking Christ, she’s going to be the death of me.

  I grab her jaw and kiss her, tongue and all, so I don’t accidentally tell her that I love her. Afterward, Milla seems startled as she blinks up at me.

  “You kiss me after I go down on you,” I tell her. “This is exactly the same.” Then I kiss her again for good measure, and bring her closer. Milla molds herself to me, and her lips move with the same desperation as my own. Like she can’t get enough, the same way I can’t get enough.

  When we finally part, we hold each other as we look up at the night sky.

  “I love this,” Milla whispers.

  For a second, my heart pounding, I thought she was about to say something else. And that’s when I realize, I’m not just in love with her now.

  I was already in love with her the first time I brought her here.

  Chapter Twenty-Two

  Camilla

  It’s early Saturday afternoon, and Hunter comes to get me from the pool house, asking if I want to go watch a movie with him and Harrison. We end up in the living room, on the couch, Spider-Man: Into the Spider-Verse playing on their giant screen. Harry’s sitting on a pillow on the floor, Roo on his lap, completely immersed in a movie he’s seen a hundred times.

  To his credit, it’s a pretty good movie. Parallel universes? That inverted falling scene when Miles embraces being Spider-Man? The colors? The effects? Stellar. Hell, I’d be paying attention too if it weren’t for Hunter, who’s doing what he always does when we watch movies with Harry: finding ways to distract me with just a touch.

  His arm is wrapped around my back, and his thumb is brushing my hip bone underneath my shirt. That’s all that’s happening, and it’s both enough and entirely too much, with last night at the lighthouse still so fresh in my mind. Turns out making him whimper and moan helplessly is strangely empowering. And a turn-on. I want to do it again, and soon.

  Goddammit, I have to calm down. So what if Hunter’s an extremely handsome guy, with unreal abs, and a fixation on making me come? So what if he acts like he can’t get enough of me—like he will never be able to get enough of me? So what if sometimes I think he loves me? So what if I love him? This isn’t meant to last, not when we’ll have to go our separate ways for college. Or at least I will. I still don’t know what his plans are. Any attempts to bring up the subject casually are immediately shut down.

  Which reminds me that I should be doing homework and not lounging around over here, letting him slowly melt me into a horny puddle. I’m fully aware of where this is headed if I let him continue brushing his fingers across my ribcage.

  Thank God my phone buzzes on my lap. Glad for the distraction, I pick it up and read the text from Isabel.

  Wanna come over and harp on me to do my homework? I’m battling some serious senioritis over here. Also, UOME the TEA from Disneyland!!

  I tap back, Will you harp on me to do my homework in return? I kinda need it too. And yes, I’ll serve you the piping hot T from D-land, though I have a feeling you’ll be disappointed.

  PSHH, she replies, the ice prince literally took you to paradise and you think I’ll be disappointed? Serve that shit up.

  Glancing at Hunter and Harry, I hesitate. The movie has about thirty minutes left. Watching a movie—can you pick me up in 45 min or so? Or I can take a bus, nbd.

  Be there in 45 and you better be waiting on that curb ready to go.

  With a grin, I respond, All right, all right! I’ll be ready.

  Gossip, homework, and girl talk aside—I still have to give Isabel her thank-you souvenir from Disneyland. Yesterday at school, I didn’t even see her. Our usual time together is either during lunch or after last period, and I spent both with Hunter.

  It’s been a week since we got back together (together-ish), and I can feel myself already slipping back into that old habit of being attached at the hip. I swear it’s all Disneyland’s fault. I was doing so well at keeping my distance before he sprung that on me. What kind of girl resists a perfect day spent at a place dedicated to fairy tales?

  Maybe when I tell Isabel about it, she’ll make me realize it wasn’t that special. Maybe she can give me a reality check—I kind of think she wants to, and I could use a little dose of her tough love right about now.

  But first, I need to get out of my current predicament, aka, Hunter’s arms.

  As soon as the credits start to roll, I check the time on my phone and clear my throat. “Hey, Hunter? I’m gonna go to Isabel’s so I can get some homework done.”

  He frowns slightly. “You can do homework here.”

  “Can I, though?” I narrow my eyes at him, and lower my voice to a whisper. “Because I know what you’re trying to do with your hand, and it’s not homework.”

  He turns his body my way and dips his head, lips brushing my ear as he whispers, “But I like touching you. And you like it, too.”

  I squirm, rubbing my legs together, trying not to give in to his heat. “You can wait until tonight,” I insist. “And you really need to work on your sharing.”

  “I’m sharing you right now.” He tilts his head to where Harrison is sitting.

  “Are you jealous of my bff?” I ask, only half teasing. I get the jealousy over Emmett, even if it’s ill-placed and unnecessary, but over Isabel?

  “Never,” Hunter says, seeming to snap out of his brattiness. “Especially not when it comes to helping with homework. That girl has some mad tutoring skills.”

  I glance at Harry and then sneak in a quick kiss to Hunter’s lips. “I’ll be back before you know it.” To Harrison, I add, “See you soon, bud. I gotta go do homework.”

  “Bye, Milla,” he says with a grin. “Thanks for watching Spidey with me.”

  “Always,” I tell him, smiling back.

  I dash to the pool house to pick up my book bag and Isabel’s gift. On my way out, I run my fingers through Hunter’s hair one last time and say, “See you later?”

  The smile on his lips as he cranes his head back to look at me is thin. “Yup. Have fun.”

  Isabel is blasting indie rock in the Mini, so we don’t talk much until we get to her house. The mansion feels bigger amid the noticeable silence, and as we walk through the empty house I realize that loneliness might be why she called me over.

  “Your parents away?” I ask.

  “Dad’s been pulling insane hours at the firm for some case he’s arbitrating, and Mom has a big new project in Europe for some French pop star who wants a “modern chateau” so she’ll be out of town for a few weeks.” She shrugs. “It happens. So did you hear back from any of those Eleventh Hour scholarships yet?”

  “I got one rejection, but that’s it so far,” I say with a sigh. “I’m praying. The thing is, they’re all smaller amounts. Ten thousand, five thousand, one for twenty five… Nothing that’d cover an entire four years of undergrad at Stanford. Still, I’m not gonna say no to free money. Every little bit helps.”

  Judging by how quick she was to change the subject back to me, I can tell something else is weighing on her. All this time I’ve been obsessing over algebra, and Hunter, I never asked Isabel how she was feeling, or paid enough attention to realize that something’s up.

  “Anyway. Sorry I wasn’t around yesterday, and the day before,” I add.

  “Pfft.” Isabel waves her hand to dismiss my guilt. “If you wanna make it up to me, tell me about the Disney date while we do homework so I can live vicariously through you.” She keeps on talking as she leads me to her bedroom. “I’m assuming things are all good between you and him?”

  “They’re decent. I mean the keeping-our-distance thing is a fine line, and I don’t know if we’re failing at it. But I’m doing my best.”

  “Good.”

  “I broug
ht you this, by the way.” I hand over the Disney bag.

  Isabel’s face instantly brightens. “Ooooh, you got me something?” She tears into the bag and flat-out squeals when she sees Merida. It’s the kiddie version of the doll where she’s made to look like an adorable toddler wearing a blue and yellow dress, one eyebrow quirked to match the smirk on her lips. All attitude, just like Isa.

  “Omigod she is so cute! This is perfect!” Before I know it, I’m being swept into a crushing hug. “Thank you thank you thank you!”

  “I wanted to give you something for helping me with algebra,” I say. “I thought you’d like a princess with an assertive stance.”

  “You didn’t owe me anything,” Isabel says, still smiling. “But seriously, thank you. I love Merida. She’s so strong-willed and feisty. And she has great hair.”

  We go up to her room and sit next to each other at her huge desk. I crack open my math workbook, whereas she already has her history materials spread all around her.

  At her prodding, I tell her everything about Disneyland, though it was mostly just wandering around the park and eating junk and getting in and out of rides.

  Isabel raises an eyebrow. “Surprised you didn’t go for a quickie in the bushes.”

  “It’s a family-friendly establishment. I would never!”

  And I mean it. It’s one thing to blow Hunter out in the open when there’s no one around for miles; another to do it in the middle of Disneyland. Boundaries.

  “I don’t know…you have the worst case of Hunter-itis I’ve ever witnessed.” She sighs dramatically. “I’m starting to think you’ll never be cured.”

  Her words sting, even though I know she must be trying to joke around. “Is it a bummer for you to hear about me and Hunter? What about your romantic woes?”

  “I have zero romantic woes.” Isabel looks down at her notebook, where various dates and bullet-pointed events are neatly written. “My life isn’t that interesting.”

  “Isabel, you have the eye for design, you speak four languages, you do Krav Maga, you have a photographic memory, and you’re a math genius. Don’t you dare call your life uninteresting.”