Tempting Rowan

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Tempting Rowan Page 3

by Micalea Smeltzer


  Warmth zings through my body at his touch and my hips rise to meet his. I gasp in surprise at the feel of his large length pressed against me. I honestly don’t know why I’m so surprised. This is why I came here. So we could lose our virginity together.

  “Trent,” I gasp his name. “I need…”

  “What do you need, Row? Tell me. I’ll give you whatever you want,” he nips at my neck.

  “You.”

  “You have me, Row. You’ll always have me,” he promises and I know he means it.

  I ease out of my t-shirt so I’m left in my bra and jeans.

  “God, Rowan,” his eyes heat as he stares at my breasts. “Who knew you were hiding those under all those baggy superhero t-shirts?”

  “I like those shirts,” I defend.

  “I do too,” he winks, kissing me again. His tongue snakes inside my mouth, flicking against my own.

  My heart is still racing in my chest, even faster than earlier if that’s possible. His large hand grasps my right breast and I gasp. I need more. I need him to make me feel alive. I need him to give me my freedom.

  His hand moves over my stomach, stopping when he feels my belly button ring.

  “You’re pierced?” His eyes are wide as he looks down at me.

  “Why are you surprised? You have tattoos and gauges,” I comment.

  “I don’t know,” he smiles crookedly. “I thought you were a good girl, Row.”

  “I’m far from a good girl,” I admit.

  “I like it,” he slides down my body, flicking it with his tongue. My back bows off the ground in response. His breath is hot against my bare stomach and Goosebumps begin to coat my skin.

  His fingers find the button on my jeans and he flicks it open. With his eyes on mine, he eases the zipper down and pulls them off of me.

  “God, you’re fucking amazing,” he eyes my long legs. “I want to be inside you so bad.”

  “Then hurry up,” I whine.

  “I don’t want to hurt you,” he bites his lip.

  “I’m a virgin,” I state. “It’s going to hurt.” God, boys could be so dumb.

  “Still,” a wrinkle mars his brow. “I don’t want to cause you pain.”

  “It can’t be avoided,” I wrap my legs around his waist and pull him flush against me. “I want this with you, Trent.”

  He swallows thickly at my words. “Maybe this was a bad idea—”

  “It’s not. This is the best idea we’ve ever had. You’re my best friend, Trenton. I want us to experience this first together.” I reach up, cupping his cheek in my hand and rubbing my thumb over his plump bottom lip. He playfully nips at my finger and I smile in response.

  That seems to get through to him. “Together,” he repeats.

  He kicks his jeans off and removes the rest of my clothes. I’m a bit embarrassed, being completely naked in front of him, but it doesn’t bother me as much as I thought it would.

  He stares at me for one-hundred and sixteen seconds—I counted—before he finally removes his boxers and puts the condom on.

  “Are you sure, Row?” He asks one last time, his jaw clenched and his arms stiff as he holds himself back.

  “Positive.”

  He eases slowly inside me. My eyes pinch close and I grit my teeth at the feeling of tightness and pulling below. It hurts…a lot…but I know I can’t make a sound for fear of the teachers discovering us. Plus, Trent would stop if he knew he was hurting me so badly.

  “Almost there, Row,” he kisses me as he thrusts inside the rest of the way. I guess he knew he’d need to muffle my small cry.

  He holds himself above me, not moving, giving me the chance to adjust to the foreign feeling.

  “Are you okay?” He asks.

  I’m holding my breath, so I can’t answer at first, but I nod slowly.

  “Tell me when I can move.”

  “Not yet,” I plead, my fingernails digging into his arms.

  “Not yet,” he agrees, kissing me slowly to ease my anxiety.

  My body begins to relax and pleasure replaces pain. My hips wiggle and he groans.

  “Row,” he warns, his forehead pressed against mine.

  “I’m ready. You can move.”

  He swallows thickly. “Tell me if it hurts and I’ll stop.”

  I nod, biting my lip as he eases out a bit and then back in. It feels so good being connected to him like this. I never want it to end.

  Sweat dampens our skin, making us stick together. I watch the muscles in his stomach clench as he thrusts in and out of me.

  His breathing accelerates and I know he’s close. I am too, although, my mom always told me to never expect any pleasure my first time. She lies though. It’s the only thing she’s good at…well, she’s good at getting drunk too.

  “Row,” he gasps, his thumb pressing against the throbbing nub. He rubs it in circles and my muscles tighten.

  “Trent. Trent. Trent.” I say his name over and over again. When I come apart, his mouth silences my cries. A moment later, he twitches inside me and I know it’s over.

  I’m not a virgin anymore.

  He presses kisses to my neck before falling to the side. He wraps his damp body around mine and I close my eyes, smiling. It feels so good to be held like this. He brushes my long hair away from my neck. “I love you,” he breathes, pressing tender kisses to the skin behind my ear.

  Those three words drench my body in ice cold water. It’s a shock to my system and there’s only one thing I know to do.

  Run.

  I sit up, grabbing at anything that might be my clothes.

  “Row?” He questions and I refuse to look at him. I can’t see his eyes right now. I won’t be able to leave if I look at him. “Row? What did I do?” He presses a hand against my bare skin. “You don’t have to say it back, but I thought you should know.”

  I don’t say anything as I put my clothes back on.

  “Row, where are you going?” He asks when I begin to unzip the tent.

  I pause. “I can’t stay the night here. The teachers will find me and we’ll get in trouble. I’ll see you in the morning.”

  But we both know it’s a lie. From this moment on, I vow to do whatever it takes to erase myself from his life.

  I sat up in bed, clutching at my chest as I struggled for air. My skin was damp with sweat and my hair stuck to my forehead. The dream—memory, I corrected myself—always did this to me. I wondered if there would ever be a time it didn’t affect me.

  I pushed the covers off and drew my knees to my chest.

  Why couldn’t I escape him?

  Even when he was nowhere around, he still managed to weasel his way into my subconscious. Damn Wentworth.

  I started to count—it was the only thing that seemed to calm me.

  One, two, three, four, five, six, seven, eight, nine, ten.

  The back of my neck was sticky with sweat, like the rest of my body, and I lifted my hair up to cool myself.

  I looked over at the clock and groaned. It was only five in the morning, but I was the kind of person that once I was awakened I couldn’t go back to sleep. I flicked the light on, blinking rapidly at the sudden brightness.

  “Ugh,” I groaned, rubbing my temples. I felt a headache coming on and that was the last thing I needed.

  I had a prescription for my headaches, so I pulled the bottle out of my bedside drawer, popping one of the pills onto my tongue. With the stale water I’d brought to bed with me I swallowed it down.

  I placed my head in my hands, letting my long hair fall around me.

  I was a mess. There was no other word to describe me.

  I wanted to cry, but no tears came. It hurt too much to think about Trent. Everything had been perfect until he said those three words and ruined it all. Why couldn’t he keep his big mouth shut?

  I knew it was wrong to blame him. He didn’t understand that those words didn’t mean the same thing to me as they did to everyone else. Anyone that had ever told me they loved me
was being deceitful. My mom. My grandparents. Everyone.

  It was all a lie.

  No one loved me.

  I was nothing but a burden.

  

  I wanted to give Ivy and Tristan a decent breakfast, but there was barely any food in the refrigerator or small pantry. I got my paycheck from the library today and I’d use it to buy some groceries—hopefully something I could use to make a decent meal out of.

  “Sorry, guys,” I frowned. “Looks like it’s toast with butter for breakfast.”

  “I want Frosted Flakes!” Ivy cried.

  “We don’t have any,” I sighed, brushing my hair out of my eyes.

  “Fine,” she grumbled, “toast is fine.” She pouted for a moment, but it didn’t last long. Unfortunately, all three of us were accustomed to not having proper meals and often going hungry. It broke my heart that I couldn’t do more. But my paycheck wasn’t large, since I spent the majority of my time at college trying to build a better life for us. No one knew, but my hope was to get a stable job, save enough money to buy a house and better car, then fight for custody of my siblings. I wouldn’t leave them in this hellhole.

  I handed each of the kids a piece of toast with butter. They ate it like it was the most delicious thing to ever pass through their lips.

  I checked that their backpacks had everything in them. When I was sure they weren’t missing anything, I set the bags on the table. “Ivy, you needed to brush your hair,” I said sternly.

  She opened her mouth to argue but I pressed a finger against her lips. “No, Ivy.”

  Rolling her eyes at me she stuffed the last of the toast in her mouth and sauntered out of the kitchen. I feared the teenage years with that one.

  “Row, can you brush my teeth for me?” Tristan asked, wiping his hands on a paper napkin.

  “Sure,” I ruffled his hair.

  Raising Ivy and Tristan had been a lot to take on, but they were worth it. I didn’t understand how anyone could abandon their kids the way my mom had. But alcohol would always be the most important thing to her.

  After I helped Tristan brush his teeth it was time to get them in the car and drive them to school. Since I was either in class or working I was never able to pick them up, but I felt it was important that I at least drive them there.

  “Ooh! Ooh! Turn it up, Row! I love this song!” Ivy chanted, bouncing in the back seat.

  I sighed and turned the volume up. Royals by Lorde began to play and I was tempted to plug my ears. They played that song all the time and it was annoying. Why did radio stations insist on playing the same song over and over again? I mean, really?

  “And we’ll never be royals,” Ivy sang along to the song. I had to agree with the lyrics though. I didn’t see how we’d ever be anything other than lower class, no matter how hard I might be trying to get to the top.

  I pulled into the school’s parking lot and circled around to the drop-off line.

  “Have a good day!” I forced a cheerful tone as they got out of the car.

  They said goodbye and then I was pulling away and driving across town to the university campus. It was nothing fancy, but it sufficed, and it was certainly expensive enough. I had the school loans to prove it. I was taking classes that might help me get into their nursing program. I was banking on getting accepted into it. If I didn’t—well, I’d rather not think about it.

  I parked in my usual spot in the back of the parking lot. I liked the walk. It allowed me to clear my head.

  “Hey!”

  I turned and found myself smiling as Jude jogged towards me. I didn’t know how we’d ended up friends, but somehow we clicked. He was tall with brown eyes and light stubble dotting his jaw. His straight brown hair fell messily over his forehead in a way that was effortlessly sexy. His long-sleeved green shirt hugged his muscular chest and jeans hung dangerously low on his hips. I’d be lying if I said I wasn’t attracted to Jude, but what I felt for Trent was so much more—even if I insisted on denying it.

  Jude wrapped his muscular arms around my torso and spun me around.

  “Put me down!” I shrieked, beating his solid chest with my mitten covered hands.

  “I missed you, Row,” he grinned crookedly and planted a kiss on my cheek.

  “You saw me yesterday,” I replied, running my fingers through my hair after he’d set me down.

  “So? I still missed you,” he smirked, striding beside me.

  “I didn’t miss you,” I looked up at him, fighting a smile.

  “What?” He gasped, putting a hand to his chest. “How could you not miss me? Most women wished I missed them, and here you are wounding me for professing my feelings. Nice, Rowan. Real nice.”

  “Oh please,” I laughed, adjusting the straps of my backpack as we crossed from the parking lot onto the sidewalk. “We both know you were banging some girls brains out last night.”

  “True,” he winked. “Could’ve been you,” he chuckled.

  I pretended to gag. “No thanks.”

  “Are you a lesbian or something?” He joked. “I’ve never met a straight female that didn’t want to hop on this and take a ride,” he stopped walking and rolled his hips in a vulgar manner.

  “Not a lesbian,” I shook my head, “just not into man whores.”

  “Baby, for you I’d change my ways,” he threw an arm over my shoulder and hugged me against him. A girl passed us and glared at me. She had to be one of Jude’s many conquests.

  “And ruin our wonderful friendship? I think not,” I removed his arm from my shoulders.

  “That’s true,” he scratched his stubbled jaw. “I really value our friendship.”

  “Sure you do,” I rolled my eyes, heading into the building.

  “I do,” he assured me, his voice suddenly serious.

  We headed into the same classroom and he sat down in the seat beside me. It amazed me that Jude—womanizer, playboy, Jude—was studying to be a nurse. I’d think he’d be too selfish for that. But while I might joke about his slutty ways, Jude was a nice guy…to me at least. He was also caring and compassionate. Once, when we’d been working at a hospice, I’d seen him spend an hour just talking to one of the older ladies.

  Jude propped his legs on the empty chair in front of him, crossing his legs at the ankle. Our classrooms were auditorium style, which I hated because that meant that the table attached to my chair was less than adequate workspace.

  “Professor Hamilton is going to be pissed if he comes in here and sees your shoes on the seat,” I warned.

  “I don’t give a fuck,” he shrugged, eyeing one of the girls in the classroom. When she caught his gaze he licked his lips suggestively.

  I kicked the legs of his chair and he glared at me. “What the fuck, Rowan?”

  “Sorry, I couldn’t control myself,” I shrugged innocently. “I have muscle spasms.”

  “Yeah, right,” he rolled his eyes and let his feet drop to the ground. “You disturbed my mojo.”

  “Your mojo?” I raised a brow.

  “Yeah,” he grinned. “Are you jealous or something?”

  “Hardly,” I propped my head on my hand, wishing the professor would hurry up and get here already, “I was trying not to throw up in my mouth.”

  He leaned back in the chair, his eyes sparkling with barely contained laughter. “You amuse me.”

  “Is that why you keep me around?” I replied. I was used to this banter with Jude. It’s how our strange friendship worked.

  “I keep you around because you’re hot and it makes other guys think I’m not checking out their girlfriends,” he said with a straight face and I knew he was being serious.

  “Thanks, that makes me feel really good,” I shook my head, trying not to laugh.

  “Aw, Row,” he brushed my long hair over my shoulder, “you know I love you.”

  “I know,” I smiled at him.

  “Good,” he leaned forward, drumming his fingers on the table. Jude was the kind of person that couldn’t sit
still to save himself. Sometimes that really irritated me since I was a quiet person by nature. I honestly didn’t understand how we’d become friends. We’d met our freshman year at the university. He’d sat down beside me, flirting shamelessly, and I—of course—shut down his advances. From that moment on, he became my only other friend besides Tatum. “We should go out tonight,” he suggested. I glared, so he added, “As friends of course.”

  “I can’t. I’m working, you know that,” I sighed.

  “You’re always working,” he grumbled, “when do you have time to just…chill?”

  “Never,” I answered without hesitation.

  “That fucking sucks,” he rubbed his hands over his face and stifled a yawn.

  “It’s called life.”

  “You deserve a break, everyone does,” he commented.

  “I don’t have time for breaks,” I shrugged, pulling a pencil out of my backpack and a notebook. “It is what it is.”

  He opened his mouth to argue but the professor finally decided to make an appearance—ten minutes late I might add.

  I turned away from Jude and set about taking notes.

  

  I was running late and I hated being late, but I had gotten stuck in traffic thanks to a train passing through town.

  I ran into the library bathroom and locked myself in the wheelchair accessible stall. I changed out of the clothes I’d worn to class and into my work clothes, stuffing my jeans and sweater into my backpack so I could change into them again after my shift ended.

  I opened the stall door, washed my hands, and jogged down the hall to the backroom where we stored our stuff.

  I ran back up to the front—winded at this point—and stopped in front of Mary, the head librarian. She was an older lady, in her sixties, with short gray hair. She was one of the kindest people I knew, but I hated to disappoint her by being late, especially since she was the one who had hired me.

  “I’m so sorry I’m late,” I gasped.

  She looked at me for a moment and her eyes flicked over to the clock on the desk. “You’re two minutes late,” she stated.

  “I know, and I’m really—”

  “Shush, child,” she lowered her reading glasses, “I hardly constitute this as late, besides, you’re usually early. Don’t worry about it.”

 

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