by Angel Lawson
“What’s up?” I asked, reaching for my lukewarm cup of coffee I’d abandoned earlier.
He finished his text and placed the phone on the table. He took one look at my hair and face and rolled his eyes. He knew exactly what we’d been up to. “Making plans for us.”
I raised an eyebrow and felt my phone vibrate in my pocket. We had a group text.
“We’re going out next Saturday.”
I reached for the phone to find out what he was talking about. The coy, teasing grin playing on his lips made me nervous. “What are we going to do?”
He paused and looked over my shoulder. I turned and saw Ben smiling down at me.
“I just wanted to thank you,” he said, to my surprise.
“Oh, good. For...” I prodded. I had no idea what he was talking about.
“Amber got so pissed about me talking to you that day—about homework,” he rolled his eyes, “that she agreed to work things out and stop being so wishy-washy.”
I smiled. “That’s good news, Ben. I think she really cares for you.”
He beamed. “We’ll see you guys at the dance then, right?”
Huh? “Um, no, I don’t think so.” I glanced at Jackson but he was suddenly busy doing...well, nothing, but he wasn’t making eye contact with me.
“Too bad. Oh well, thanks again,” he said, and walked off.
I turned to face my him. “Dance?”
“Winter formal. Bad music? Stinky gym? Crepe paper from the ceiling? Girls in slutty dresses?” He said all of this in his casual sexy way. I stared at him blankly. “Heaven, there are posters all over the school.”
“So? I’ve been a little distracted, you know.”
He smirked, knowing he was one of the reasons for that.
Anderson chose this moment to return from the bathroom. I could see a faint pink mark on his neck. I felt a surge of power rush through me. I thought marking territory was a male thing. Seeing that mark made me want to make more. Anderson looked at me quizzically and sat down repeating, “So what?”
Jackson leaned closer to both of us. “So, I was just telling Heaven about how we’re going to the dance next week. Winter formal.”
Anderson leaned back in his seat and drank from his coffee cup. “Oh, that’s right.”
I looked between the two of them. “What? You’re okay with this?”
A hand squeezed my leg under the table. I had no idea who was doing the squeezing. “Sure. Who wouldn’t want to see you dressed up?”
I blushed. Charming bastard. “I don’t want to go with just one of you.”
“I don’t mind going stag.” Anderson nodded toward Jackson. “I’ve never taken a date before. We usually just go alone, hang out, party afterward. This year you can go with Jackson for appearances, but otherwise it’s no big deal. We’ll all be there.”
“Fine,” I said. “If this is what you guys want.”
I stood, going to the line to get a refill. A moment later, Anderson bumped my elbow. He leaned over and whispered, “Are you upset?”
The line moved and I moved with it, pushing my cup to the server. “Refill please.” I made sure no one from school was watching. “No. I’m just not big on dances, and I think it’s going to be hard with you all there and not being able to be myself all night.”
He looked over his shoulder at Jackson. “Welcome to my world.”
True. I picked my drink up off the counter.
“Don’t worry, though,” he said, low and a little threatening. In the best possible way. “I suspect we’ll all find ways to make the night special for you.”
My stomach turned inside out, not from his words but the look on his face. He looked hungry and horny and I felt like a lamb on the way to slaughter. I squelched my inner virgin and summoned my best, most confident, fake-experienced woman. “Promise?”
I was rewarded with a smirk. “Promise.”
Chapter 17
"Remember when you had that ripped Clemson T-shirt?"
I was lying on the floor of Thompson's living room, on my stomach. Our homework was spread between us. We used another joint assignment as an excuse to spend time together after school. This question took me by surprise. "Um...yeah? My cousin gave it to me."
"You wore it all the time. It was so threadbare. I sat one row over and two seats back from you in Mrs. Case's class. I could see your bra strap through the rip near your collar. I had dreams about that white cotton bra strap for months."
I looked at this boy-man lying across from me. Gorgeous and confident. He was always so smug. Right now, his green eyes sparkled every time he looked between the paper he was writing on and my face. Anderson just revealed he had been fantasizing about me for a really, really, really long time. "That was in the eighth grade."
"Yeah."
"You were thinking about my bra in the eighth grade?"
The tips of his ears tinged red. "Yeah."
"I, um..." I was speechless. Anderson pushed the books out of the way and tugged me to an upright position. He beckoned me with a finger and after I moved to him, he arranged me in between his legs. My back was to his chest and his was flush against the couch. His fingers pulled back the collar of my shirt and he ran a finger over the satin strap.
"Still hot."
"Really?" Genuine question. Boys are so weird. Walking around in sexy clothes I got. Bra straps and ratty shirts? Nope.
"Absolutely," he admitted. He was so honest. Always. I was nothing but. Having such intense anxiety made it hard to be truthful. I didn’t want to lie. It just seemed easier. He wasn’t done. "Although, I never knew your packaging would change so much."
I looked down at my tank top and short skirt. On the floor like this, the hem barely covered my ass. His lips were on my neck and my insides turned to mush. Burning, twisting, overwhelming mush. We rarely had time alone like this--most of our kisses and touches were on the sly. But Anderson's parents weren't home. Like that, unease mixed in with the hormones. I was still a virgin. Did he know that? Did he care? I eyed his mother's living room floor, wondering if this would be where I lost it. Surrounded by antiques on a soft gray carpet.
"Anderson," I started, "I, uh, oh, oh..." God, his mouth was amazing.
My heart was pounding so hard and I was pretty sure I could hear his, as well—feel it, rather—vibrating from his chest and then across my back. I felt Anderson move my hair and he placed another kiss on my neck, then nibbled and a lick.
“You taste so good.” His forehead fell against my back and he took the deep breath I knew meant he was trying to control himself.
Let go, I wanted to tell him. I’m ready.
“I thought seeing you with the others would make me mad,” he confessed. “Jealous, but watching you all week with Jackson? Knowing you were riding to school with Oliver—him seeing you first thing in the morning? Sneaking around for a brief moment with you? Goddamn it only made me want you more.”
We weren't facing each other, and in some ways, it made conversation easier. In other ways, I couldn't see his face, which made it hard to judge what he was saying. I had to trust his words. I stared at the soft, grayish carpet on the floor. Tidy and neat. I could see the lines from the vacuum cleaner around the edges of the room.
“Sounds to me like you’re a masochist. You could have had me a lot sooner, you know.”
"You're a pretty scary chick, Reeves. I never would’ve kissed you if Jackson hadn't made a move." His fingers trailed softly down my arms. "And like I said in the library, you were getting a little hard to resist."
"I was trying to make you crazy," I admitted.
"Mission accomplished."
I twisted around and climbed in his lap. Bad move. Now his super hard, very erect cock was pressed right against the thin material of my underpants. Right there. Holyfreakingboner. I thought kissing felt good. This was some kind of crazy mixture of pleasure/torture. "Oh,” I said, shifting against him. “Wow.”
His jaw tensed.
“Is this
okay?” he asked quietly.
"More than okay.”
He slid a finger under the strap of my tank. "I'm not gonna lie. I want you."
I swallowed and said, "I won't lie and say I'm not worried it's all you guys want from me."
The worried line crossed his forehead. "You know that's not true."
I wanted to know it. So badly. I tried to lighten the mood. "Are you sure? This isn't just a way for you to fulfill some kind of perverted thirteen-year-old's fantasy?" I pushed him back playfully. I was joking, but the fear they wanted me only for sex lingered in the back of my anxiety-filled mind. My stalker pushed that narrative every day with a slew of manipulated photos.
His eyes narrowed. “You know that’s not how it is.”
I nodded. “It’s my brain. It just won’t stop sometimes.”
“Your brain is a bully.” He kissed my forehead, my nose and chin. “We agreed not to listen to bullies, didn’t we?”
“Yes”
“But if you’re worried, we take this slow, okay?”
I nodded, feeling a tinge of relief. Not because I didn’t trust him. I think…this stuff with Anderson, it was new. It took him so long to come around. I needed to be sure.
He ran his fingers down my neck. “Anyway, I’m holding out for the day you come back in that T-shirt. You still have it?”
“Yeah.” My answer came out breathy. Taking it slow may be harder than I thought.
“That’ll be our signal. You wear that and I’ll know you’re ready. Until then, we just get to know one another.”
“Deal,” I agreed, claiming his mouth with my own.
*
Twenty minutes later, I was still straddling him on the floor. My skirt was bunched to the top of my thighs and his fingers were pushed underneath. They never wandered too far but I wanted them to. So much. We were tongue-deep, kissing and sucking—licking mouths, necks, and any other available flesh. We were alone for the first time and Anderson's kisses were different, less frantic than when people could discover us at any moment. I liked both kinds. I liked the eager, hungry Anderson who pulled me into quiet alcoves for fast and furious make-out sessions, and this one as well. The one that took his time and made my blood simmer to a boil.
"Dude, have you seen..." I heard a voice declare from the doorway. "Holy...oops." This was followed by a giggle and Anderson's hands flew out from under my skirt and quickly pulled it down to cover my ass. I peeked over my shoulder and saw Oliver, keys dangling from a finger. His hair was damp from just getting out of the shower and I could smell the clean soapy smell from my spot on the floor.
My face burned, being caught so intimately. “Hey Oliver.”
He looked at his watch. “It’s uh, after five and I told you I’d pick you up but if you’re not ready…”
I slid off Anderson’s lap and he helped me up to the couch.
"No, I think we’re done here.” The hungry, pained look in Anderson’s eyes said otherwise. “Done with homework.”
“Right,” Oliver said. “I can come back?”
“Nah,” Anderson said, stacking our books and dividing out the papers that’d been spread all over the floor. “Swim practice starts in an hour, you know…”
“Yeah, gotcha.” Oliver winked.
Something passed between them I didn’t quite catch.
Grabbing my books from Anderson, I smiled and placed a kiss on his cheek. “See you tomorrow?”
He shoved his hands in his pockets and rocked back on his heels. “ Yep.”
We left Anderson and his “problem” and headed to the driveway. The hunter green Mustang sat in the circular drive and Oliver held open the door for me. I hopped inside, taking the chance to look at myself in the mirror while he walked around. My hair was a mess, my lips red and swollen and my cheeks flushed. None of that had anything on the way my body ached at the moment. It was obvious that I left Anderson revved up and ready to go, but I felt the same. So much that it hurt.
I took a few breaths and smoothed out my hair, trying to get control of myself before Oliver got in the front seat.
“How was your practice?” I asked him.
“Hard. Cardio day. Coach was pissed after our last game so he took it out on everyone.” He and Jackson had baseball right after school. Anderson was in a competitive swim league over at the University. It started later in the day. Hayden spent his life working out, either on the soccer field or in the gym. I liked how athletic they were, but it took up a lot of their time. Luckily that just meant I got to have a little alone time with each of them while they were busy.
He started the car and linked his right hand with mine. I wondered if he could feel the heat on my skin. At the end of the driveway I asked, “What was that look between you and Anderson just now?”
He turned onto the main road and glanced over, confused. “What look?”
“Right before we left. You winked at him.”
He thought for a moment and then snorted with laughter. “Oh that.” He shook his head. “No big.”
“Then what? Was it about me?” I was genuinely curious.
Oliver fidgeted with the radio, settling on the classic rock station. “Uh, sort of, but really just a guy thing.” I pouted and pulled my hand away from his. “What? You’re gonna hold out on me because I won’t say?”
“You guys have so many inside jokes and little secrets. I just want to be part of it all.”
He rubbed his chin and then claimed my hand again.
“You really want to know?”
“Yeah.”
He stops the car at a red light and looked over at me. There’s a hint of amusement in his eyes. “Anderson needed a little extra time before swim to take care of some business.”
I frowned. “What kind of business?”
He glanced down, pointedly.
I stared at him blankly.
The light turned red and the car behind us honked twice.
“I’m going,” he muttered, eyes flicking to the rearview mirror. “Heaven, do you really not get where I’m going with this?” When I didn’t reply, he sighed and ran his hand over his face. “Anderson’s going to jerk off before swim. He couldn’t put on that little banana hammock he wears with the raging boner going on his pants.”
I sat back in the seat, both horrified and amazed. “He was going to masturbate?”
He smiled. “Yeah, babe.”
“Because of me?”
Oliver howled with laughter. “Fuck yeah, because of you.” His eyes skimmed my legs up to the high hem of my skirt. He rubbed my knuckles with his thumb. “Is that really so crazy?”
“It’s uh…” the flush that lingered from Anderson’s house intensifies. It’s a strange sensation…not embarrassment. Something else. Powerful. I felt powerful. “I never thought someone would feel that way about me.”
One-handed, Oliver jerked the car to the right, swinging into the parking lot of a park. The lot was empty, mostly there for people using the jogging trail. I held on to the door handle with my free hand and clasped Oliver’s with the other.
“What the heck?” I asked, feeling dizzy.
He shut off the ignition, the loud engine petering out. Music pounded in the speakers and when he looked at me, my breath caught. “Babe, you need to understand something. We all feel that way about you. It doesn’t matter if you’re in one of those tiny skirts or if your tits are pushed out. Flannel pajamas, ratty T-shirts, bed-head, hospital gowns…whatever the hell you’ve got on, you’re the fucking hottest, most beautiful, sexy woman any of us has ever encountered.” He lifted my hand and raised his eyebrow for permission. I nodded. With a gentleness I’d never experienced, he rested my hand between his legs. My fingers trembled at the size of the hard bulge. “That is what I struggle with all day. What Anderson is dealing with right now.”
That thought made my brain melt. Thinking about him doing that because of me. Feeling like that because of me.
“I’m eighteen. I can’t lie to you and s
ay I don’t want you for your body, because I dream of the day we make love. I think about it all the damn time, but it’s not just sex,” he says, removing my hand and encasing it in both of his. “You’re fun. Sweet. Sarcastic. You’ve got a wicked sense of humor and are ridiculously smart. You turned our entire school on its head. That was epic. You’re epic.”
We stared at one another or a long moment, so much truth laid on the table. I felt like I needed to confess. “I struggle, too.”
“Excuse me?” I faced the window, feeling a wave of embarrassment. Did I just say that? He clamped his hand on my neck and turned me to face him. “What was that?”
“I struggle with all those feelings, too. You guys are ridiculously hot. You smell so good, like crack wrapped in a chocolate bar. You’re so sweet to me and have stuck by me through all this bullshit.” I reached for his shirt and lifted it, revealing his lean body and ladder of abs. “See? What is that, even? How does it happen.”
“Hard work and a lot of focus,” he laughed. “That’s what happens when you don’t have a girlfriend until you’re a senior in high school.”
I exhaled. “I appreciate you taking it slow and giving me space to get used to this and heal, but…”
“But what?”
“A girl has needs too.”
He bit his bottom lip, eyes growing a shade darker. “Tell me what you need, Heaven.”
I don’t say the words, but I do lean over the center of the car and kiss him, channeling everything that had built up over the last few weeks into an explosive moment. The car was cramped but it didn’t keep him from responding with his mouth and hands, fingers dipping gently under the short hem of my skirt.
I sucked on his tongue and spread my thighs. I didn’t know what to expect but it wasn’t the slow, laborious pace that he took. He moved with intent, dragging his fingers up and down the thin layer of cotton of my panties, sending jolting shocks of electricity through my body.
“Oh my god,” I breathed, wrapping my hands around his neck. Oliver’s moves were deliberate, controlled, and it drove me absolutely wild. I slid down the seat, skirt hiking up. I prayed no one drove by or came in to park. If he stopped, I thought I may die. Absolutely die.
