My hands went to her waist as she kissed me hard. Her body rubbed against mine in all the right places. My hand slid up her leg, up under her skirt – turns out those tights didn’t go the whole way – and I felt her smile.
“Talk about ambitious,” she whispered.
“Really?” I asked. “You’re the one in my lap, princess.”
She pulled back and looked me over. “So, you just assume there’s more coming, do you?”
I grinned. “I call it less an assumption and more of a hope.”
“Oh, a hope?” She smirked.
I nodded, leaning up to her and wrapping my arms around her. “Can you blame me when this is what you’ve put in my lap.”
“Your very hard lap,” she commented.
“There is no denying that. It’s an affliction I’ve suffered since Saturday night.”
She laughed. “I don’t imagine you left it untreated all this time.”
“And if I told you nothing but you would treat it?”
She snorted and bit her lip against a bigger laugh. “And if I told you I might not treat it tonight?”
I licked my bottom lip slowly as I thought about the best way to respond. I had to be careful here. If I played it too soft, I might lose her interest. And if I played it too hard, I’d definitely lose her interest.
“Then I’d respect that.”
“You’d respect my boundaries?”
I nodded. “I’d respect them. Although…” I gently grazed my fingers over her knee and slowly slid them up her leg. “It would be helpful to know exactly where they are.”
The humour playing at her lips was mirrored in her eyes and it struck me again how confident she was. There was no hesitation. She knew exactly what she wanted and she wasn’t at all worried about what I thought about that.
For the record, I thought it was great.
It was sexy.
Even when it meant I was probably not ending the bet that night and was certainly going home with a raging hard-on I was going to have to deal with by myself, it was damned sexy.
What surprised me most about it, though, was that it made me want to not rush her. Sure, I wanted to know if I could push those boundaries a little, but only if that level of cheekiness was okay with Paige.
As my fingers skimmed up her leg, her smirk grew. “You want to know where the boundaries are?”
I nodded. “I would love to know where the boundaries are.”
“And just how do you plan on doing that?”
My fingers just caught under her panty line and I felt her tense before her hand went to my wrist.
“First boundary?” I asked.
A look crossed her face that was hard to read. I was like she wanted to say no, but felt like she had to say yes. Finally, she nodded.
“First boundary,” she said, but I noticed her voice was a little strained. I wondered if it was because she was as disappointed as I was or because she was uncomfortable with me so close.
In case it was the second, I moved my fingers back down her leg, noticing that she didn’t exactly relax straight away. My hand went to brush a piece of hair off her face and she gave me a rueful look.
“Figure you’ll start at both ends and see how far you get?”
I smiled as I leant forward to claim her lips. “Now that you mention it…”
I kissed her as my hand slid down her jaw, over her neck and trailed down her back. I felt her breathe deeply against me as she took my cheek in her hand. Once I found the bottom of her jumper, I slid my hand up under it and splayed it against her back.
I paused for a moment, thinking it was probably a touch too ambitious to try to undo her bra, even as a joke.
So instead, my fingers grazed over her skin, around her side and to her stomach. She flinched and smiled, biting my lip as she chuckled under her breath and leant her forehead to mine.
“You ticklish, princess?” I asked quietly.
She nodded. “In…certain situations.”
“Oh, really?” I was looking forward to hearing more about those situations.
“Really.” She looked into my eyes. “You’ve only found one boundary so far.”
“If you wanted me to touch you, you just had to ask,” I told her with a grin.
“Shut up,” she mumbled, then kissed me again.
She was so damned soft and warm and direct. I was totally happy just kissing her and trailing my hands over every part of her body while she had one hand in my hair and the other on my chest. It was intoxicating and for a while I completely forgot I was trying to pop her cherry. Especially when she rubbed over me in a way I could tell we both liked.
A couple of times, I ran into boundaries and promptly moved away – it seemed as long as I didn’t head under the material of her panties or bra, or linger too long between her legs, it was all good. But fuck, did I want to linger. And not just because a part of me planned it as a precursor to more, but also because she seemed to want it.
Every time I ran my fingers between her legs, she rocked towards me encouragingly. But any time I thought she was going to let me finish her, she pulled away with this conflicted look on her face.
The second time, when she started a conversation with a very breathy, “I hear you have a little brother,” I had a feeling the mood killer was intentional for both parties.
I nodded. “Yep. Leo.”
She nodded as well. “How old is he?”
“Fourteen.”
“You guys get along?”
I brought her neck to my lips and kissed her gently. “If you wanted me to stop, princess, you just had to call boundary.”
I felt her nodding again, then she shrugged wildly as best she could while I was nuzzling her neck. “Wanting you to stop and knowing you should are two very different things.”
Paige was definitely almost mine. There was just something holding her back from taking the next step.
And I was pretty certain I knew what it was.
Paige Nicholls was definitely the sort of girl who needed more than physical chemistry to have sex and, while I wasn’t about to go all World’s Best Boyfriend, I could make it less about the physical stuff and more about her emotional needs. Just because I’d never employed the tactic didn’t mean I was ignorant of it.
To pop a princess’ cherry, I was going to need to be more of a prince.
The idea alone made me gag, but my reputation was at stake here and I only had three weeks left.
Chapter 12: Paige
Of all the guys at our school to be immune to the bloody Paige Nicholls fantasy it had to be Bash Baker, didn’t it? Of all the guys who weren’t going to just fall for the perfect façade, it had to be him. Because it wasn’t working. By now, I’d had Matt looking at me with nothing but moony eyes, Josh had been opening doors for me everywhere we went, Luke had barely left my side, and James had invited me over to dinner with his parents.
But no. Bash Baker just had to be different, didn’t he? Bash Baker and his stupid cocky arrogance definitely wanted to sleep with me – although I was impressed a simple ‘no’ got him to pull back on feeling out my readiness – but there was as yet no indication he had any emotional attachment to me at all. And with only three weeks left until the formal, unless I started fostering some feelings soon, I wasn’t going to make my deadline.
So, if Bash was nothing like any of my exes, there was only one thing for it. I had to change tactics. I had to get rid of Queen Bee fantasy Paige and try something new. It was time to give him the real Paige, the one most guys refused to believe existed. After all, I had nothing to lose.
This was the Paige who didn’t laugh at all his jokes, the one who didn’t think action movies were nothing but testosterone, the one who didn’t think blood was gross, the one who didn’t mind getting her hands dirty. The only thing for it was whether Bash accepted she existed.
Wondering what I could ask him about doing, I found myself on
the Hoyts website. And low and behold, what had just come out on Thursday?
“That’s perfect,” I said to myself as I opened my messenger app.
Paige:
Want to go to IT tonight?
I barely had time to consider if it was a sensible plan asking him out again so soon after we’d last hooked up and I’d been the one to ask him then too, when his reply had me laughing.
Bash:
Is that code for sex?
Paige:
No! The movie, genius.
Bash:
You’re choosing to go to a horror movie?
Paige:
Is that all right?
Bash:
Fine. Just figured it’d be a little heavy for you.
And here it was. The poor little Paige couldn’t possible like horror movies because girls didn’t like that sort of thing unless they were purposefully trying to get you to ‘comfort’ them. Ugh, one day boys were going to grow up and realise I could like pink and the same movies they do.
Paige:
Maybe you don’t know me as well as you thought?
I spent a fraught few minutes worried that that was definitely not the right thing to say to him. Bash wasn’t known for wanting to know girls literally more than skin deep, and no guy seemed to want to know me if it didn’t live up to their expectation.
So, I was still staring at my phone when he replied.
Bash:
If that’s the case then I’m definitely interested in getting to know you better.
Bash:
But what says I like horror films?
Paige:
Movie theatre’s a nice quite place for that ;)
Paige:
It’s perfectly okay to admit you’re scared.
Bash:
If I do admit it, will you protect me?
Paige:
Don’t worry.
Paige:
I know just how to distract you if you get too scared.
Bash:
Then I’m all in. I’ll pick you up?
Paige:
Sure. When?
Bash:
You free in an hour?
Paige:
No. I asked if you wanted to go out tonight when I already made plans.
Bash:
So an hour’s fine then? :P
Paige:
Yes. An hour’s fine. See you soon.
I jogged downstairs. “Mu-um?”
“You hollered?” she called and I headed for the direction of her voice.
“Okay if I go out tonight?” I asked, swinging around the door frame of the laundry.
“Again?” Mum looked at me.
I nodded. “Again.”
“What are you doing?”
“Seeing a movie.”
“Which one?”
“The new IT.”
Mum nodded. “Is this with the chatty Cathy from yesterday?”
I snorted at her description of Bash. “Yes.”
“I hope you’re not neglecting the girls for this new boy, Paige.”
I shook my head. “No. I’m not. I promise.”
“Good. Because that’s not like you. You don’t go silly over boys. Not like Mia, bless her.”
I smiled. “It’s all good. It’s just new and we’re seeing where it goes, if it goes anywhere.”
Mum nodded. “All right, then. Message me whenever you arrive or leave somewhere, okay?”
I gave her a kiss on the cheek. “Always.”
“Good girl. When’s he coming?”
Not for a while, if I have anything to say about it. “About an hour?”
“Okay. Need anything to eat first?”
“No, thanks,” I called back as I headed off to the living room to wait for Bash.
“Popcorn isn’t dinner, Paige!” Mum laughed.
“Yes, it is!” I laughed back as I dropped onto the couch.
I watched TV until the doorbell rang and Mum was faster to the door than I was. But she paused on seeing me.
“You didn’t change?”
I looked down at my ratty jeans, my Converse, my baggy singlet and my grey and denim hoody. My hair was up in a messy half-pony tail and I didn’t have any makeup on.
“I’m trying something new,” I told her as I reached past her and opened the door.
I couldn’t tell if that was her worried smile or her relieved smile. It looked a mixture of both. “Okay.”
“Hey,” I said to Bash and he nodded slowly, like he was confused by something.
“Hey.”
“Right. I’ll talk to you later, Mum.”
“Yeah, bye. Love you,” Mum mumbled.
“You too.”
I grabbed my keys off the hook by the door, smiled at Bash and started towards his car. I heard him “Um…” then he quickly overtook me and went to his door to unlock the car. Before he did, he looked at me over the roof rather accusingly.
“What?” I asked innocently.
I watched his eyebrow rise, then he shook his head. “Just took me off guard is all,” he said as he opened his door and got in.
I followed suit and looked at him while I put my seatbelt on. “What took you off guard?”
He started the car and looked at me from the corner of his eye. “Your outfit.”
Maybe I’d played this thing wrong. Maybe Bash was just like every other guy at school. Maybe he did like fantasy Paige and real Paige was going to once again be the death of my relationship, such as it was.
“What’s wrong with it?” I challenged.
He shrugged as he started driving and, for the space of a heartbeat, I was actually scared of what he might say. “Nothing’s wrong with it. I just didn’t know you knew how to be comfortable.” He threw me a shit-eating grin and I huffed a laugh.
“Seriously?”
“Seriously.”
“I did tell you I owned multiple pairs of trackpants, didn’t I?”
“And I told you I owned a kilt. Doesn’t make it true.”
“Oh shit,” I sighed and he threw me a quick questioning look. “I was betting on that.”
“For what?” he asked with a laugh and I couldn’t tell if he was totally amused or just a little bit alarmed.
“Foreplay.”
Bash made a noise that was half-way between a cough and choking. “Fucking Jesus. We going to Norwood?”
“Yes.”
“Okay. Any other kinks I should be aware of?”
I leant my head on the rest and looked at him with a wide smirk. I waited until he’d rolled to a stop at the traffic lights and looked back at me before saying, “Isn’t it more fun to find out for yourself?”
He grinned. “Princess, I like exploring just as much as anyone. But everyone walks away happy if you tell me what you like.”
“Is that so?” I asked him.
He nodded, focussing his gaze back to the road as he drove. “Fastest way to mutual pleasure is honesty.”
There was something about the direction this conversation was headed that I liked. It gave me that flutter in my stomach and made my breathing catch. It had me remembering how his hand felt just brushing between my legs fleetingly though my jeans and imagining what it would feel like if he was under them. And that had nothing on the night before.
“You’d call yourself honest, would you?” I asked.
“I’m very honest.”
“So, if I asked you, you’d just tell me exactly what you wanted?”
His smile now was one of immense cocky humour. “Of course.” He tilted his head for a second, then amended, “I’d tell you what I like. What I want means very little if you’re not comfortable giving it.”
I had to wonder how much of that was true and how much was a line designed to make me feel more comfortable about the idea of giving him more. Regardless, it worked.
“All right, Casanova. Tell me what you like.�
�
He rubbed his thumb over his nose, then put his hand back on the wheel. “Mutual satisfaction. I’m a guy who likes to make sure my partner enjoys herself. Preferably before I do–”
“How progressive of you,” I snorted and he smiled. “Why before?”
He shrugged. “Easier that way, to be honest.” He threw me a very heated look. “Plus, there’s more chance I get her off more than once that way.”
I laughed. “Okay. You’re an overachiever. Nice to know.” And that was nice to know, provided he wasn’t all talk. “What else do you like?”
“I like a lot of things.”
“That sounds an awful lot like you’re avoiding the question.”
He chuckled. “Excuse me for assuming you’re not the dirty talk in normal conversation type.”
“I’ll give you a pass this once.”
“Oh, just once?”
I nodded. “Once you know me better, you won’t make that mistake.”
“And who says I’m planning to get to know you better?” he asked cheekily.
I sighed. “Oh, Sebastian,” I cried, sarcastically condescending. “I just know.”
His laughter filled the car and I couldn’t help but smile.
“Yeah, all right then,” he said and I knew that was as much of an admittance as I was going to get.
“You still haven’t answered the question.”
“Jesus. All right. Calm down,” he said, still smiling. “I like it hard, but I like to take my time. I’m not really into a hell of a lot of foreplay on my part, but I’m into doing whatever she wants to get her ready. Having her wet and begging for it is the only way I want her.”
Well. All right then. If his words alone didn’t give me something to think about, his tone did. As usual, it was full of self-confidence bordering on arrogance. But there was a very large part of me who wanted to believe it was justified arrogance. I just had to remind that part of me that, even if I was ditching Queen Bee Paige, that didn’t mean abandoning all morals and giving in to my (extreme) lust for him.
“What about you then?” he asked casually.
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