Once Should Be Enough

by Nikky Kaye

  With some satisfaction, I saw her shudder as I gently dragged her hair back and together, then I drew the elastic through it. Her scarf was loose enough to expose the slope of her neck to me once more. If I leaned even closer, I might look down to see the bump of her collarbone.

  But she didn’t move away. She was that marble statue again, beautiful and cold and close.

  I bent over, my mouth at her ear. “Don’t forget I’m pre-med,” I reminded her. “I’ve studied anatomy. I know things about your body that your pencil-dick ex couldn’t even spell. If you wanted me to, I could make you come so hard you black out.”

  She gasped.

  “I bet you’ve never been eaten out properly, have you?”

  She gulped in some more air. Fuck. That throat. Mine was feeling tight, but a loose heat expanded in my chest as I continued.

  “You should be. I need to show you. Oh god, let me. You’d love it… being licked and sucked, my hands spreading you open with one thumb buried inside you and the other on your hard little clit.”

  Almost like a promise, my thumbs pressed into her neck, rubbing lightly. I fought my own blush and my rising erection. Yeah, I was a 21-year-old guy, but this was getting pretty raunchy even for me. Regardless, I was going with it until she pulled away. And she hadn’t yet.

  “How many fingers have you had at once?” I asked her. “Two? Three?”

  Her eyes closed and she shook her head almost too briefly for me to notice. But I did notice.

  “Four? More?” It was more likely that she’d been stabbed at by a single digit owned by a selfish prick who didn’t know what he was doing.

  My cock turned to stone at the idea of opening her up. Knuckle deep.

  “As much as I would love to feel your pussy tightening around my hand, I would honest to fucking god pay a thousand dollars just to have my tongue inside you,” I admitted.

  I paused, waiting for her to turn around and knee me in the balls. At least then she’d be touching them. The thought almost made me harder, if it was possible.

  But she remained silent, her chest heaving.

  “I could turn you inside out. But only when you look me in the eye and beg,” I promised her, “would I sink my cock into you. And Cassie, you would beg. Trust me.”

  Thank fuck she didn’t know that I was this close to begging her myself. I wanted her so badly.

  My hand still fisted around her ponytail, I twisted it lightly and pulled her head slightly to the side. Unable to resist, I dragged my tongue lightly up the side of her soft little earlobe, right by the silver hoop threaded through it.

  Now she’d gone from almost hyperventilating to holding her breath, practically vibrating silently.

  “You are not frigid. And I can prove it to you, over and over and over and over again.” I punctuated my words with little nips down her carotid artery.

  I wanted to bury my face in the curve where her neck met her shoulder and set up camp there. But instead I let out a heavy sigh and straightened.

  Slowly she turned. I stood taller, but didn’t take a single step in retreat. Her brow furrowed, her gaze lowered to my lips, and she bit her own before speaking. This time I was the one holding my breath while I felt hers hot and damp on my jaw.

  “Once should be enough,” she said.

  Halle-fucking-lujah.

  Cassie

  Maybe frigid was the wrong word. I didn’t feel all that cold right this moment.

  My neck was still tingling from his mouth, and the fact that he hadn’t shaved for a few days. I wanted to pull my scarf tighter around it, but at the same time didn’t want him to think I was that affected. Because I wasn’t. But I think maybe I gave Will the wrong impression.

  “Only once.” And only because I liked the idea of being able to say “I told you so” with impunity.

  He shrugged. ““You say ‘once,’ I say ‘first time’.”

  “I’m not a slut.”

  I lifted my hand to jab a finger into his broad chest for emphasis, then jerked my hand back, suddenly afraid to touch him. Finally, I forced myself to meet his gaze, just in time to see him roll his eyes.

  “Obviously.”

  “You’re talking to me like one.”

  His eyes narrowed, his expression hitting me like intravenous coffee and making me just as jittery. “No, I’m talking to you like you’re an incredibly sexy woman and I want you. Does that make me a slut?”

  I looked away, unable to answer. I just didn’t know. I didn’t know how this friends-with-benefits thing worked.

  What I did know was that I felt different from my friends, male or female. It seemed like everyone my age was too quick to jump into bed with someone, anyone. All that sexual liberation had basically funneled my peers into a busy calendar of booty calls, but then they were afraid to text a week later. It was a lot of passive-aggressive bullshit, and I frankly couldn’t be bothered.

  Hook-up culture, at least on campus, was like the Twitter model of sex—prove you’re cool by generating, but more often receiving short, meaningless messages, usually click bait. You only feel validated if someone “likes” you or starts following you, which is sad. Then you compulsively interact with it, to the detriment of your work and school.

  And at the end of the day, you can’t even recall all the encounters unless you slog through your history, and then you’re ashamed for wasting so much time on it. Ultimately you can’t even remember why you became a Twat in the first place.

  It probably started at a party where you were introduced to Jungle Juice. Nothing good in this world had ever come from Jungle Juice.

  So I guess I blamed the Internet for my problem with relationships, and the world. It just seemed easier right now than taking responsibility for my own sexual apathy. In fact, I was starting to come to the conclusion that I could blame the interwebs for everything wrong with society today.

  But I still felt pretty confident in my conclusion that sex just wasn’t for me. There was something freeing about not caring, not trying to attract people or self-conscious all the time.

  “I’m not a charity case, you know,” I said to his slightly scruffy chin.

  “I know you’re not.”

  “I’m not going to take your money.” But I did step back a little. I was starting to feel overwhelmed by him. And his promises.

  “No, I’m going to take yours.”

  It was hard to look at him when his dirty words were still bouncing around in my brain. I felt like my whole body was blushing.

  “That’s not what I meant. I’m right anyhow, but this isn’t about money.”

  He bounced forward on his toes. “Are we negotiating terms?”

  “What? No! Not really. Terms for what?”

  “Your, uh, defrosting.”

  “My what?” Oh. My. God. I turned around and started walking again, trying not to trip over the uneven sidewalk at the edge of campus. Why did I ever start this topic of conversation?

  “You make me sound like a turkey at Thanksgiving,” I said weakly.

  I heard him hum appreciatively behind me. “I’ll bet there’s a little button on you that pops when you’re ready, too.”

  “That’s foul,” I said, then couldn’t help but laugh at my own silly pun.

  He caught up to walk by my side. “Maybe you’re a chicken instead.”

  “Bock bock bock.”

  He reached out to loop his arm around mine, stopping us on the sidewalk. “I’m serious, Cassie.”

  “I know. That’s what scares me,” I replied, half-joking.

  Past his tall, lean body, I could almost see my dorm behind a smaller building on the other side of the quad. Suddenly I felt very anxious to get to my room, to snuggle under the covers, and escape this feeling like I was about to fall off a cliff like in a cartoon.

  I’d never felt this nervous with Will before, and it was, well, unnerving. It wasn’t that I felt like I couldn’t trust him, or that he would laugh at me. The truth was, the reason I felt
so rattled, was that I suspected he would do his best to worship me. He was that good of a friend. And because of my own frigidity, I would disappoint him. Friendship over!

  I startled as his fingers nudged my chin up. His touch was warm and firm, gentle but unrelenting. His gaze shifted from my eyes to my mouth, then back to my eyes again, then he spoke quietly.

  “I won’t hurt you.”

  “I know. That’s what scares me,” I repeated, offering him a wobbly smile.

  The little crinkle at the corner of his eyes deepened as he grinned at me, making my stomach flip again. He inched closer. Realizing I was becoming increasingly affected by his smile, I tried to look away. His palm cupping my jaw held me in place, however, his thumb softly stroking my blazing cheek.

  Now I felt like I was not only nowhere near the cliff, but also a giant boulder was falling beside me. And I didn’t even have a spindly little umbrella to cushion the blow. Where was Acme when I needed them?

  Did Will like me? Like like me, like me? I decided that the easiest thing to do, the safest thing to do would be to blow him off. But then that made me wonder about blowing him, and my mind flashed to what he might look like naked. Not that I was curious or even interested.

  “Cass?”

  “Mm-hmm?”

  He frowned. “What are you thinking?”

  “I wish I hadn’t said anything. I wish you hadn’t said anything. Now it’s—” I waved my hands around, “—out there and we can’t take it back. I can’t unhear your words—”

  “I don’t want you to,” he said in a low voice, stepping closer to me, his other hand coming up to cradle the other side of my heated face.

  My heart was pounding, and something deep in my belly was coiling. Maybe the burger was off.

  “—and it’s just a bad idea,” I finished feebly, feeling a little dizzy.

  What was wrong with me? Could you get food poisoning this quickly?

  “Fuck the money, then. Fuck it. Just let me have you. I promise I’ll make it good for you.”

  I was mesmerized by his teeth, dragging over his full lips as he swore. I’d never been interested in any kind of dirty talk before. Okay, I’d never really heard much either. But something about the way he was talking to me was making my food poisoning worse.

  “Let me ask you something,” he said, squinting his eyes at me. I nodded hesitantly, and his hands splayed out further on my face. His thumbs drew together to almost touch under my chin, and his pinky fingers grazed my earlobes, sending a ripple down my spine. It was like he was studying the shape of my jaw, the line of my throat and the curve of my cheekbones.

  “Have you ever been aroused?”

  My eyes widened. “Uh, I suppose so? I’m not a virgin,” I reminded him. Technically.

  He scowled. “You can have sex without being aroused, though it’s sure as fuck a bad idea. And you can most definitely be aroused without having sex.”

  I opened my mouth to say something then closed it, to which he raised an eyebrow.

  “Do you want me to list the clinical symptoms?”

  No, I didn’t. His hands trailed down my neck, the pads of his thumbs coming to rest in the hollow at the base of my throat. Hopefully he couldn’t feel my heart racing.

  “Maybe I’m asexual,” I suggested, a lump forming in the back of my throat. “I mean, I’ve never even gone to a bar and thought someone was hot.” I felt like such a freak. “Aren’t girls my age supposed to get drunk and want to get laid?”

  He tilted his head one way, then the other, examining me. “It’s possible,” he granted. “But I doubt it. You’re getting turned on right now.”

  “No…”

  “Arousal is a physical reaction to stimulus, as well as a mental one.” While he spoke, his thumbs traced my collarbone on either side, back and forth, like he was rubbing a lucky penny in his pocket. “It’s easier to become aroused by someone you feel comfortable with already,” he informed me as I let out a little hum.

  Then he must be wrong, I thought. I was feeling distinctly uncomfortable right now, like a cat whose fur was being rubbed the wrong way.

  Bending his head towards me, he took me by surprise with a soft kiss to the corner of my mouth.

  “What are you doing?” Oh god. Maybe it wasn’t food poisoning.

  He leaned in again to kiss the other side of my mouth, but I was frozen in place.

  “Testing your theory,” he said against my lips. And then his tongue darted out to taste where my upper lip bowed. My jaw slackened further in shock.

  Now I backed away, instinctively seeking escape. I hit a wall, my head jerking around in surprise. Oh. The admin building. This conversation had totally gotten away from me. I needed to stop this crazy train and get off. I didn’t care if we weren’t at the station yet.

  “I said this was a bad idea, Will, and I’m not taking your money.”

  “And I said, ‘fuck it’.”

  Then his mouth covered mine, hot and hard. There was no hesitation in his kiss, no attempt to persuade me. It was sure and confident, as though his previous pecks had been a test, a warm up. I should have known this was coming, but I’d tried to ignore the way his gaze flitted from my eyes to my lips this whole time.

  And once Will committed to something, he went all in. I had to admit that whatshisname had never kissed me like this, not that I could recall. I’m sure he probably used his tongue, but not the way Will’s was tickling the plump flesh behind my two front teeth, daring me to respond.

  He clasped my shoulders and tugged me closer, then dipped to capture my bottom lip. I felt him smile against my mouth with the confidence that I wasn’t about to knee him in the ‘nads.

  Frankly, I wasn’t sure if I could feel my legs—much less bring my knee up.

  He surrounded me, his arms crossed behind my back, his taste in the back of my aching throat. I could smell the earthiness of his skin, and as my hands came up reflexively, the stubble on his chin rasped against my palms. Our chests touched as they rose and fell together rapidly.

  He didn’t just drag a response out of me—he ripped it out until all my edges were jagged.

  I didn’t need his reminder of the clinical symptoms of arousal. If I remembered correctly, my dampening panties and hard nipples were pretty textbook.

  He snaked a hard arm around my waist and pulled me closer than close. My back arched reflexively, my hands flying to his shoulders for balance as I tipped back. With the hand that wasn’t caging my waist, he yanked my scarf down and bent his head.

  I think I whimpered.

  His moan vibrated hotly against me, the tip of his tongue sliding up from my collarbone to my jawline.

  “Fuck, you taste good,” he growled, pressing me against the building.

  My hands must have been cold. Probably from shock. All I could feel as I clutched his upper arms was the surprising heat of his skin, his muscles pulsing and twisting under my fingers. The idiot wasn’t wearing a jacket, and now I wondered if he needed a straight one.

  Was I pushing him away or holding him close?

  My chin tipped back as his teeth scraped over my neck. Above us, clouds scurried across the sky, shrouding the blue with gray. It was getting darker, colder. I felt like a bobble head doll as I felt his long leg push between my own, and his hip surge against me.

  “Cassie…” Now he was close to my ear again, his hair tickling my jaw. I tried to shift from side to side, but he was so damn close and our legs tangled. He twisted a little to angle his knee up, his thigh meeting the crotch of my jeans.

  My gulp made his head shift against me. He was too close. “Uh… we should… uh…” I tried. I really did sort of try.

  “Yes, we should.”

  He pulled back a fraction, enough to rest his forehead against mine and stun me with the open and overwhelming want in his gaze. It was almost a surprise when his thigh dragged up the seam of my jeans, rubbing me where I ached.

  “No, wait—“

  He groaned and
paused, blinking at me, seeking something in my expression that he must have found.

  Then his leg urged me forward until I was practically straddling him, the most secret part of my body instinctively seeking his hardness. I bit my lip, which somehow made him hiss in response. His breath shuddered and mixed with mine.

  “You see? Arousal without intercourse.”

  I couldn’t possibly argue with him. I was pretty sure the way I was humping his leg was giving me away. Flushed with embarrassment and awareness, I reached out to kiss him again. He didn’t need any convincing to meet me halfway.

  It was that shift of our bodies, that collision that rubbed me just the right way. Down I went, something in me rupturing.

  I gasped against his mouth, my eyes closing at the warm, wicked clenching in my core. He held me in place as the spasms radiated through my belly, his mouth hot and open against mine. When I came back to myself, I could feel his erection hard against my hip, but he didn’t move. So I did.

  “Stop,” he commanded.

  I wriggled again, twisting my body against his to feel the thick outline of his cock under his jeans. He swore and stepped back, opening the world up again.

  Looking around, I saw that twilight had crept in while we were, uh, busy. A few students openly stared at us as they walked by. Someone in a car nearby honked the horn, making me jerk upright.

  Oh god. I flushed with humiliation.

  Turning my focus on Will, I saw him grimace as he adjusted himself. When he looked up to see me watching, he held his hand out to me. “Don’t.”

  “Don’t what?” Oh, there was my voice again. I was wondering where it went—on vacation with my dignity, probably.

  After raking his other hand through his hair, he tried to capture my wrist. I put my hands behind my back, scraping my knuckles against the etched concrete.

  “Don’t be embarrassed.”

  “I’m not embarrassed?” I would have sounded more convincing without the up-speak.

  His eyebrow quirked as the side of his swollen mouth lifted in silent response. Letting out a huff, I straightened, snapping my legs together like I should have done in the first place. I let out another irritated noise.