by LL Meyer
“You can’t kiss me,” I inform him. “I just ate tacos.”
He moves even closer and my stomach flip-flops nervously. “So did I.” His eyes flash with amusement before they flicker down to my lips and then he kisses me. Just soft brushes of our lips – once, twice, three times. And I’m lost.
Some kind of noise that sounds like displeasure escapes me as he pulls away, making him laugh softly. My eyes flutter open and meet his.
“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he says, taking a step back. Then another.
I nod, thinking that he looks happy at this moment with boyish mischief dominating his expression.
“Yeah, tomorrow.” My voice sounds ridiculous, hoarse and throaty.
Neither of us makes a move.
“Go inside, Lily.”
When I don’t move, he adds an arched brow to his expression.
“I wasn’t asking.”
For some reason his words make my knees watery. Behind my back, I twist the doorknob and sink into the front hall; our eye contact is finally severed by the closing door.
I lean back on the door for support. Wow. That was intense.
“There you are.”
Crazy is in front of me. I realize I’m going to think of her that way for the rest of our lives now.
Charmaine’s got this puzzled expression on her face. “Where have you been?”
I smile lazily. “Out with Dane.”
“Really?” She’s completely shocked. “That guy from last night? Jenna’s brother?”
“Yeah.” I can’t seem to get my legs to move.
“I need ALL the details!” she shrieks. Her excitement helps me shake off the inertia that has my feet glued to the floor. She grabs my hand and pulls me into the living room where Josh is watching something on Netflix.
“Hey Lil,” he says. “What’s going on?”
Charmaine gives him a look that shows her disbelief. “She was out with Dane!” She turns back to me. “All day?”
I can’t stop myself from smiling so broadly that my face feels ready to crack. “Yes, he took me out for breakfast, and then we drove out to the coast and he showed me a house he wants to buy, and then we went to the beach, and then we came home and went to Taco Bell. I think it might have been the best day of my life.”
“Whoa! You are totally into him. And rightly so. That man is hot. Right, babe?” She looks over at Josh who gives her a WTF look. We laugh.
“Did he kiss you?”
I sigh. “Yeah, just now.”
“Were there fireworks?”
“I think the earth may have moved,” I gush.
Charmaine squeals. “I’m so happy for you!”
“Me too.” Then I groan. “I have homework to do.” I make to get up off the couch, but she pulls me back.
“I’m going to need more than that.”
I shrug. “There’s nothing else to tell.”
“Are you going to see him again?”
“He’s going to drive me home from work tomorrow night. Does that count?”
She’s taken aback. “Wow, he’s being nice.”
“Is that bad?”
“I can’t see how,” she says, though she sounds dubious, like it’s open to the possibility.
But I shake it off. Nothing can bring me down. It’s been forever since I’ve had something to be happy about.
This time I actually make it to my room. It’s almost finals week and I have a few projects due, too. For once I’m glad that my life is so lame that I’m pretty on top of everything, because I can barely concentrate right now.
By ten o’clock, I decide to give up and go to bed. When I come back from the bathroom, I grab my phone to set the alarm and see I have a message. My heart rate immediately goes through the roof as I open it.
My need and desperation got the better of me. Night Pretty Girl.
My eyes fly to the time stamp. I breathe a sigh of relief, a shaky hand covering my smile. Two minutes ago. I start racking my brains for a reply.
Need and desperation r in the air. Cdn’t concentrate on hmwk. Night Dane.
I’m putting my phone down when it buzzes again.
R u needy and desperate for the same thing I am?
Heat starts in my chest and races up my neck.
You’re making me blush.
R u sexting me?
What? No! You’re sexting me.
Do I make you uncomfortable PG?
PG? Oh, Pretty Girl. I sigh as I type.
Maybe. But in a good way.
Lol. Look forward to making you uncomfortable in a good way repeatedly.
What?!
I don’t even know what that means.
Your innocence is so hot.
I throw my phone down on the bed. My body’s on fire and I have no idea how to answer that. God, I’m so out of my league. A minute passes. Two. With my back propped up against my headboard, I just stare at my phone, chewing on my thumbnail, feeling the heavy beat of my heart echo in my chest.
Suddenly, my phone starts vibrating with a call, his name flashing across the screen like a harbinger of doom. I briefly consider letting it go to voicemail. Ha, ha. Very funny, Lily.
“Hello?” It comes out all shaky.
“I didn’t mean to scare you.” His voice is thick like honey and completely soothing.
“You didn’t. I just didn’t know how to answer.” Thank goodness he can’t see how red my face is right now.
He chuckles and the sound of it rolls over me in pleasant waves. “You’re okay, then?”
“Yeah,” I say slowly. “I’m okay.”
“Sleep well.”
“You too.”
He hangs up and leaves me with the same achy, nervous feeling from this morning, but this time it settles between my legs. It’s completely disconcerting and foreign to me, and makes it impossible to sleep.
I hang up and I’m left with a massive hard-on in my pajama bottoms from the sound of her voice. But I have no one to blame but myself. I shouldn’t have pushed her like that, but it had been so easy – and fun. When was the last time I thought of a girl as anything other than a lay? Never. I groan. She’s already gotten to me and I’ve only known her for a day.
I owe her a huge apology for this afternoon, though. I mean people talk about roofies all the time, but I guess they never really think about it. Fuck, she was raped. And who knows by how many guys. Does it make it better that she doesn’t remember any of it? I don’t even know. And that they’ve been making her life a living hell since then is burning me up inside. Jason thinks it’s because she didn’t report it. Someone thinks she’s weak and is toying with her. But it’s been more than three years. Whoever organized the whole thing must have graduated by now; I can’t see a freshman doing something like that, it must have been someone older.
The idea of her personal information and picture tacked up on some frat house wall makes me physically ill. God, if I ever find out who’s done this to her, I’ll rip them to pieces. My cock twitches at the thought of defending her, of keeping her safe, and I groan again.
She’s worth it, I tell myself. Today was awesome; hanging out with her, her excitement over the house. Even Taco Bell tasted better with her there. Tomorrow, I’ll see her again, tomorrow.
In the morning, I’m pretty cranky. I’ve barely slept again and it pisses me off. It’s like I’m seventeen, not twenty-seven. I console myself with the fact that today is the first day of demolition on a new flip. I’ll get all my need and desperation out by gutting an entire house with the guys. Jason and I don’t really need to work anymore. We have people who do that for us, but I love my job. I like ripping houses apart almost as much as I like building them back up again.
Before I forget, I call and make an appointment for tomorrow morning to get our lab work done.
The rest of the day passes surprisingly quickly, probably because I really put my back into it. By the time it’s 8:45, I’m pathetically anxious to see her. I’ve showered and
brushed my teeth and am seriously hopeful that she’s going to let me kiss her, really kiss her. Lame, lame, lame, I berate myself.
I text her that I’m in the parking lot, but I don’t get a reply. I suppose she’s working. After a few minutes, my phone buzzes with BRT. BRT? What the hell is that? Whatever it is, it has me smiling as I try to figure it out.
At 9:05 she finally comes out the front door. She’s wearing skinny jeans, Converse high tops, and her uniform shirt, and her hair is French-braided into long pigtails. Just the sight of her has woken up my cock, and then I realize that she’s scanning the parking lot, looking for me. Opening the car door catches her attention, and when she sees me, her face lights up like a Christmas tree. It sets off a brief ping of uncertainty in my chest.
Then she’s walking toward me, looking down, shaking her head with a smile on her face.
“How many cars do you own?” she asks when she’s close enough, gesturing to the black Range Rover behind me.
I smile at her, unable to resist reaching out to pull gently on one of her braids that run down the front of her shoulders. “I swear I’m not trying to impress you. It was the last one in the driveway.” I lean down and kiss her gently. “Hey.”
“Hey,” she whispers back, looking up at me through her lashes like she’s completely undone by a simple kiss. My jeans are now officially too tight.
I put my hand on the small of her back, directing her around to the passenger side and open the door for her. I can feel her watching me as I go back to the driver’s side and get in.
On the way to her house, I ask her about school and work and she does the same for me, but neither of us is paying attention because the whole car is filled with sex. I can feel it. The way she’s watching my mouth instead of my eyes, the way she keeps licking her lips, the way she’s bouncing her knee slightly with nervous energy. I park in front of her house and then recklessly throw my seat back as far as it will go.
I crook my finger at her. “Come here, Pretty Girl,” I tell her, patting my lap. Her lips part and I hear her pull in a short breath. Our eyes lock and for a fraction of a second, I don’t think she’ll do it. But then she’s undoing her seatbelt, climbing over the center console, and straddling my lap.
Her breath is minty and warm on my face as I lean in. Our lips meet just like yesterday. Once, twice, three times and my arms go around her waist to pull her closer. She parts her lips for me and my tongue slips in to brush hers. Oh, Christ. Pleasure crashes through me. Every pass of our tongues is electrifying, and the moan that comes out of her makes me want to come like a kid. And it only gets better. Her hands thread their way into the hair at the back of my neck and slowly tighten while I move forward in the seat to give us more room, and then rake her up against my erection. She sucks in a ragged breath, losing her rhythm in the kiss. I pull her against me again and this time I get a bit of a cry as her lips fall from mine and her neck is bared to me.
She feels so good. Unbelievably so. I don’t remember making out ever feeling quite like this. My lips attach themselves to her neck, and I suck on her gently, tasting her slightly salty skin. She moves her head around, allowing me access to her throat, and all the while these crazy noises are coming out of her mouth.
“Oh my God,” she groans before her lips slide back to mine. I let my hands fall lower and grab a handful of her ass, making her squirm deliciously against my cock.
After a few more minutes, I know that I’ve reached my limit. Either we stop or I carry her into the house and fuck her right on the other side of the front door.
My hands snake up and between us to take hold of her jaw. I push her away and our lips detach so noisily that we both laugh. I put her head on my shoulder and enjoy the feel of her racing heartbeat against my chest.
She’s completely languid in my arms when she speaks. “It’s been so long since I’ve been kissed. I don’t remember it being this good.”
I nuzzle her neck. “Good? It was amazing.”
Her body shakes as she laughs. The vibrations from her make me push up into her, changing the giggling into moaning.
“You have to go inside now,” I groan.
“Don’t wanna.”
I laugh weakly. “Are you pouting?”
“Maybe.”
I reach forward and pull the door handle. She starts to tumble out, making us both laugh again as I grab onto her.
She sits up straighter and I see her eyes for the first time since we started. They’re bright and filled with lust, and I almost tell her to get her ass inside and on her bed right now. But, no, that would be stupid.
“I can’t take you to the door tonight,” I whisper to her.
She nods in understanding and then slides herself off my lap and onto the street. We laugh again when her legs almost don’t hold her up. I pass her her stuff. “I’ll pick you up tomorrow morning at 6:45.”
The thought of going for the tests sobers her a bit as she nods. She leans in to peck me on the lips one more time, and then she’s walking around the car and up the walk. When she’s got her door unlocked, she turns and blows me a kiss before she disappears inside.
The breath I’ve been holding comes out in a rush. “Holy shit,” I say to the night.
In the morning, after a surprisingly good night’s sleep, I’m back to pick her up. I can see that she’s nervous, but still happy to see me.
“You’re not scared of needles, are you?”
She gives me a half-hearted smile. “Not really.”
“It’s just for extra piece of mind,” I tell her in an attempt to make her feel better, because I know she’s more nervous about the results than the actual tests.
“I know,” she says, but keeps her gaze trained out her window.
She gets a bit agitated when I pay for everything, but I’ll be damned if I’ll let her drain her bank account for something like this.
Before I take her to work, I go through the Starbucks drive thru, but when I ask her what she wants, she stubbornly refuses to answer me, saying she can’t afford Starbucks. I just order her a regular coffee with two creams the way she likes it and then find a parking spot because the agitation she was feeling at the lab is about to bubble over.
“You can’t keep buying me things like I’m eight years old,” she informs me with a bit of menace.
I can’t stop a smirk forming on my lips at her show of backbone. “You know what you need, Pretty Girl? A spanking.”
“What?” she huffs out, her eyes glittering with surprise that quickly turns to anger.
“Relax, all right,” I tell her. “It’s just coffee.”
She glares. “It’s not just coffee, and I don’t like the way it makes me feel.”
“And how’s that?”
Waving her hand in a circle between us, she searches for the right word. “It makes me feel . . . dependent.”
“Well it makes me feel good, so you’ll just have to suck it up.”
“What?”
Oh shit, she’s really mad now.
“Look, in five years from now when you’re finished with school and have a great job that pays you a lot of money the way mine does, you can buy me anything you like. But until then, I’m buying.”
She turns to face the windshield, crossing her arms over her chest like she’s protecting herself, but I can see that logic has won out.
“Hey,” I say in a gentle voice, reaching out and turning her chin back to me. “Let me have my fun. It doesn’t cost you anything.”
Her lips twitch at my joke.
“Come on, Lil. Can I take you to work and know that you’re not mad at me?”
She scoffs, trying her best not to let her lips turn up into a smile. “How could I ever be mad at you?”
“I am pretty cute,” I say just to needle her.
She shakes her head as I start the car. “Thanks for the coffee,” she says grudgingly.
I beam at her. “You’re welcome.”
That night I pick her up after sc
hool and then take her to her door. We only fool around a bit before I send her in with a swat on her butt. She seems a little disappointed, which I find endearing. But I can’t do a repeat of last night; there’s no way I can go through with not fucking her if I get that heated up again. Heading back to the car, I absently wonder why I’m waiting, because I’d bet my life she’d be completely willing.
It’s Wednesday morning and I’m on the bus to work, trying to think about anything other than Dane: Dane’s smile, Dane’s eyes, Dane’s lips – on mine, Dane’s hands – on me. But all my brain can come up with to replace him with is the test results. My chest compresses at the thought of having HIV. Okay, let’s go back to Dane. I close my eyes and an image of him taking my nipple into his mouth comes to mind, causing a bit of a strangled groan to slip out. My eyes snap open and I find the guy beside me is staring. Okay, let’s try this again, with a G rating perhaps? Actually, what I should be doing is homework. Dane and I haven’t talked about it, but I hope he’ll want to spend time together on the weekend. I’ve been filling every spare moment I have at work, between classes, while eating, etc., with homework, so I’ll have free time. Unfortunately, my productivity has been compromised by daydreams filled with beautiful lips and broad shoulders.
A small part of me has been trying desperately to keep myself less invested in him. And a few times, I’ve even voiced that nasty question in my head: If he never calls you again, will you be okay? But I absolutely, positively cannot let myself contemplate the obvious answer. Really, I’m not sure what to do.
I should be sticking to what’s gotten me through the last three and a half years: a steady, plodding pace that involves placing one foot carefully in front of the other, making sure of my footing. But these last few days, I’ve been throwing caution to the wind by skipping or even running to meet the future – none of that is careful or sure. I should be scared, because the chances of tripping and falling flat on my face are huge. But all I can focus on is how he makes me feel so alive after being empty for so long. How can I stop myself from feeling that? I can’t. I don’t want to.
