by Jane Green
He didn’t. I felt the shuddering start in the depths of my belly and spread to my thighs, which clenched tight against him. My hips rose off the bed, pumping hard into the air. It went on and on, my body contracting against his fingers, his tongue working against me...and then, almost before I knew what was happening, he turned me over, pulled at my hips until I was balanced on all fours, and slid the length of his member against my hot and pulsing center.
I was still somehow collected enough to gasp, over my shoulder, “Wait...Caleb, are you....”
“Oh. Hang on.” Leaning back on his knees, he pulled a condom out of his pants pocket and rolled it on. “Push back against me,” he breathed, setting the sheathed tip at my entrance again. I pushed, and he slid inside me, both of us gasping...and then, with one hand on my hip and one hand on my shoulder, he began to move, pulling me back against him, filling every inch of me. I’d had plenty of sex, but it had never been like this—I’d never felt so good, so perfectly matched, and so perfectly filled. We kept moving together, the sensation and pleasure building and building, until at last Caleb shuddered, holding still a moment before collapsing on my back, driving me down.
A Sweet Surprise
He kissed my ear and whispered, “I have a confession.”
Oh, god. I felt my heart contract. “What? Are you married?”
He laughed. “No. And it’s not a bad confession. You might like it.”
“You better just tell me.”
“Well, I’m not here on business.”
I rolled away. “Let me guess. You don’t have a job. You live at home.”
Again, he laughed. I kept talking. “You’re in such good shape because in prison there was nothing to do but pump iron. And you’re going to kill me and use my skin to make a girl suit.”
He chuckled some more. “Paranoid much? No, I don’t live at home, and I’ve never been in jail. I was here because I knew you’d be here. My mom ran into your mom at the grocery store, and she mentioned that your cousin was getting married here. My mom knew I’d always liked you.”
My head was spinning. “Wait. What? You liked me?”
He turned me to face him. “I had a crush on you. You never noticed?”
I shook my head. I’d had a boyfriend my junior and senior years and hadn’t really noticed Caleb. But now....
“Your mom told my mom you’re single,” he said, nuzzling my neck.
“My mom’s got a big mouth.”
“But she’s right?” I heard the question in his voice, the teenage quaver, and I smiled, holding my arms open until his naked body was pressed against mine. “Happy birthday,” he said, and I kissed him until he stopped talking.
About Jennifer Weiner
Jennifer Weiner is the author of nine novels, including Good in Bed and In Her Shoes, which was made into a movie starring Cameron Diaz. Weiner’s latest, Then Came You, came out July 12. Check out our Q&A with Jennifer at cosmopolitan.com
Falling in Lust at the Jersey Shore
by Meg Cabot
Gemma needs a distraction from her heartbreak, so she heads to the Jersey Shore. She assumes every dude there will be a gorilla juicehead. Instead, she ends up meeting the hottest guy she’s ever laid her eyes—and hands—on.
I stared at the doormat in front of the beach house. No Shoes? No Shirt? No Problem! was written across it in bright yellow letters. Every part of me wanted to turn and run back down the steps to the taxi that had just left me there. Unfortunately, it had already sped away.
When Rich, my boyfriend of six months, dropped the bomb that he wanted to “take a break for the summer,” I was devastated. Not just because I cared about him, but also because I didn’t see it coming. Rich and I worked at a deadly dull marketing company in midtown Manhattan. Being together was the only thing that made the job fun. As far as I could tell, things were A-OK between us. But then, out of nowhere, Rich told me he wasn’t sure he wanted to be in a relationship. I should have told him to shove it, but I didn’t want to seem like a bitch, so I said okay.
“Could anything suck more than trying to take a break from someone who works two doors down from you?” I told my friend Jen, who also worked in the same company, though in a different department on a different floor.
“Well, if you have to see his face Monday through Friday, Gemma, you can at least get as far away as possible every weekend,” she told me.
“What are you talking about?” I asked.
“Why don’t you go in on the share I’m organizing at the Jersey Shore with me and a couple of other people from the company? You might know one of them. Tom—”
“I don’t know Tom,” I said, cutting her off. “But I do know MTV. No offense, but spending my summer with a bunch of Snooki wannabes is not exactly going to ease my pain.”
“Gemma, if Rich is taking a break, you should too. Use this time to cut loose, have fun, and get him off your mind somehow. So what do you say...Jersey Shore?”
After I unlocked the door and stepped inside the house, I put down my bags and looked around. The place was not quite as nice as it looked in the photos online. But I wasn’t buying the place, just renting a part of it. I was the first to arrive, since I’d made up an excuse and left work early to beat the traffic. So I was surprised when I saw a guy standing outside on our deck, in our pool. He was one of the most beautiful men I’d ever seen, and he was wearing only a very snug-fitting pair of board shorts—the kind that left nothing to the imagination. Particularly his, er, bone structure.
The afternoon sun glinted off his tanned shoulders as he scoured the sides of the shallow end with a scrub brush, his dark hair falling over his eyes. He looked up as I walked outside.
He must be from the rental agency, I figured, and had come by to make sure everything was clean before the tenants moved in.
“Hey,” he said, lowering his aviators to reveal a set of criminally blue eyes.
“Hey,” I replied, trying to keep my voice steady. Guys with dark hair and light eyes are my ultimate weakness. “I’m Gemma.”
“I’m—damn it.” He had climbed out of the pool to shake my hand and, in doing so, accidentally kicked over a bottle of bleach, spilling it onto the deck. “I’d better get a hose to rinse this off. But let’s go for a swim after. It’s hot as hell out here.”
At the thought of sliding into the cool water with this half-naked Adonis, I felt my face grow red. “Oh, no, it’s okay. I don’t have my suit on.”
“So change,” he said with a naughty smile.
“Um, okay, maybe. Let me just settle in.” I fled into the house, lugging my bags to the first bedroom at the top of the stairs. While I changed from my clothes into my bikini, I checked my cell. Rich hadn’t called. Stop thinking about him, Gemma! But it was hard not to. Before I could mope over it any longer, I heard my name.
“Gemma?” The pool guy was calling to me at the foot of the stairs! “You coming or what?”
Oh well, I thought, what do I have to lose?
“You get lost up there?” he asked. Somehow, two beers had magically appeared in his hands since I’d last seen him. He was sipping one; the other he had clearly wrangled from somewhere for me. Even though his sunglasses were back on, I didn’t need to see his eyes to know he approved of my change of clothing.
“No, I just had e-mails to send for work,” I lied. I climbed down the first two pool steps so I was submerged up to my knees.
“That’s the worst,” he told me. “I feel like I can never unplug from work, either.”
I nodded sympathetically. “I guess the show really has meant big business for the rental industry here.”
He gave me an odd look before saying, “Yeah, I guess it has.”
I waded all the way into the water before taking a long, refreshing swig from the beer he’d handed me. “This feels amazing.”
“So, you approve of the Jersey Shore so far?” he asked, joining me in the water.
“It’s actually not as bad as I thought it wo
uld be.” As soon as I said it, I wanted to kick myself. This is his home, Gemma! “I mean, it’s just that the show portrays it so differently, but it’s actually really beautiful.”
“I’ve never seen the show, so I wouldn’t know,” he told me.
In an attempt to remove my foot from my mouth, I said, “Well, you seem a lot sweeter than some of the guys on that show, so that helps.”
He met my gaze, smiled. “You seem pretty sweet yourself,” he replied, clinking my beer with his own.
My hand was resting on the edge of the pool, and he moved his to cover it. It was big and strong and at least 10 times tanner than mine. I felt my breath catch.
“Gemma,” he said, bringing both of his hands to my shoulders and turning me toward him. I don’t know what came over me, maybe I was just tired of feeling bad over the Rich situation, but I reached out and wrapped my arms around his neck, pressing my mouth against his lips—and my breasts against his hard, muscled chest—and he put those big hands around my waist, pulling me close.
He kissed me back with an eagerness I was enjoying almost as much as the, er, enthusiasm I felt pressing against my thigh through those snug board shorts. He tasted as good as he looked, of salt air and chlorinated water and, more faintly, the sea.
His fingers traveled from my waist to skim along the smooth skin of my arms until they reached the strings of my bikini top. He untied them and let it fall down, cupping my bare breasts in his large hands. I shuddered and went to moan his name against his mouth...until I realized that I did not, in fact, know the name of the man who was fondling my chest. Under normal circumstances, I would have pulled away, said we were moving way too fast. But these were not normal circumstances—my heart was broken, I was on vacation, and who knew when I’d meet up with a hot, sweet guy like this again?
When he dipped his fingers into my bikini bottom, swirling them between my legs so expertly I thought I might faint, I lost all ability to form a logical argument as to why I should not be doing this.
“Oh,” I groaned, tilting my head back, feeling a ringlet of water trickle down my chest. A wave of excitement began to build in me. “Yes,” I panted. With the combination of the cool water and his soft but strong touch, I knew it wouldn’t be long before I climaxed against his fingers...but I wasn’t ready yet.
“Do you have a condom?” I managed.
“I do,” he said. “Inside the house.”
“Go,” I demanded.
It was an agonizing few moments before he returned. When he did, he stopped above me, sliding off his shorts to reveal a truly impressive display of manhood. He slipped the condom on and hopped back in the pool. He pressed against me, pinning me between his chest and the edge of the pool and guiding my legs so that they wrapped around his waist. I was so turned on that he slipped inside me in no time. The sun felt so nice on my naked back and shoulders...almost as good as his hot skin against mine as he held me up, driving into me again and again.
And then when it felt like every nerve ending in my body was ready to burst and I could stand it no longer, he lifted me out of the pool in those strong arms, carried me over to a nearby chaise longue, laid me down, and continued to thrust so slowly I thought I might scream. I lifted my hips hungrily to take in more of him.
And then his control broke, and he began to pump harder, filling me in a way I never thought anyone could. With every stroke, I could feel my pleasure swell, until finally I climaxed, digging my fingers into his arms as the orgasm vibrated through me. He followed quickly after.
He collapsed alongside me, breathing just as heavily as I was. “That was unbelievable,” he panted.
I nodded in agreement, turned my head to bury it in his shoulder, and promptly fell asleep.
When I opened my eyes a few hours later, the sky had turned lavender. He was sprawled next to me still.
“Hi,” he said, smiling a little shyly at me.
“Hi,” I said, smiling back.
“Holy crap!” said a third, all-too-familiar voice.
Both of us sprung up, grabbing our clothes. We hadn’t noticed the three people standing on the deck.
“Don’t mind us,” Jen said, laughing. “I had no idea you and Tom, from work, were already so well-acquainted, Gemma. We’ll be inside enjoying a cocktail; join us when you’re dressed.” Jen winked, then turned and walked away.
“You’re Tom?” I asked, frantically retying the strings of my top.
“Wait, you didn’t realize that?” Tom asked, sounding just as surprised.
“I thought you were from the rental agency!”
“No,” Tom said, laughing, “but that explains your earlier comment.”
“Ugh, I feel like such an idiot.” I buried my face in my hands.
“Come here,” Tom said, pulling me into his chest. “Think of this as a start to an amazing summer.”
I looked up at him. “Really?”
“Yes, really.” He put his finger under my chin, tilting my head up to kiss me. As a tingling sensation spread through my body, all I could think was Thanks, Rich, for knowing just what I needed.
About Meg Cabot
You probably know Meg Cabot as the author of the fiction series that inspired the Disney classic The Princess Diaries, featuring Anne Hathaway. But this summer, Cabot returned to her dark, vampy side with Overbite, out July 5. Learn more about Meg at cosmopolitan.com.
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copyright © 2011: Individual stories copyrighted to the authors and the collection copyrighted to Hearst Communications, Inc.
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Table of Contents
Cover
Title Page
Contents
Sex Under the Stars by Jane Green
Birthday Sex She'll Never Forget by Jennifer Weiner
Falling in Lust at the Jersey Shore by Meg Cabot
Copyright
