Jesus, did I just give myself permission to commit?
Maybe I am taking this whole maturity thing to the next level.
I think this is as I pour some chipotle ranch dressing onto my burrito, in the back of a lecture hall, as I ignore the professor who is teaching.
22
Jolie
“If you keep doing that, I’m going to come.”
Mick’s face is screwed up in concentration, his hands locked on my hips.
I’m bent over him, my hands on the tufted headboard of my bed, as I rise up and slowly wiggle back down.
“But it feels too good.” I sigh as I sink fully down onto him. “I thought you could go all night.”
He smacks my ass lightly. “No one’s saying I can’t. But when you suck my dick within an inch of its life, it doesn’t leave much hope for me holding out.”
I repeat the motion over, relishing the hot-cold tingles that shoot down my spine.
“God, you’re so sexy.” He brushes a hand over my collarbone, and it finds its way down to my breast.
He plucks at my nipple as I ride him, short, moaning breaths releasing from my throat. I get lost in the moment, throwing my head back as I grind down onto him and then pull back up. Each time I do, it hits my G-spot, something I’ve never found with anyone other than Mick.
As if he knows I need a little more to get there, he wraps a fist around my loose locks, pulling on them. The small bite of pain in my scalp spurs me on, and with Mick’s fingers rolling my nipple, I give in.
“Come on, Jolie, let me feel you.” He groans.
The orgasm washes over me, and I know I’m being loud as it ravages my senses, but I don’t care.
At the last second, Mick flips me over, coming down on top of me as he pounds with full force. The move makes my orgasm last, waves still crashing as he grunts his release into my shoulder.
After a few beats, he rolls to his back again, taking me with him. I’m tucked into his side, a smile spreading on my face.
We lie in my bed, sated, and idly I think that there is no way Christine and Madison didn’t just hear that. They’re both home, and Mick and I have been getting more careless. We see each other at least four times a week, which feels way more than casual, and we haven’t even been bothering to hook up while my roommates aren’t home.
The discussion I had with Jennifer the other day plays in my head, about commitment and following my gut when I know it’s the right thing. But I’m too chicken right now. Both Mick and I have skirted around the issue and turned each other down. We finally seem to be in a good spot, why ruin this?
“Are you nervous about midterms?” I ask, playing with the smattering of hair on his pecs.
He gives a tiny shrug. “Some of my classes are more difficult than others, but I’m not too worried.”
I snort. “You’re literally taking classes that sound like they’re seminars out of NASA, and you’re going to have a four point oh at the end of this term, I just know it.”
Mick runs a hand up and down my bare back. “It’s just one of my strengths. Trust me, everyone has their weaknesses.”
I wonder absently if he’s talking about me. Not only have we not talked about commitment, but we haven’t spoken about the truce we broke. We both said it would be better to be friends. He claimed he had too much going on, and I promised him not to pursue anything further. We’d both failed and had yet to acknowledge that.
“How about you, how are you feeling about midterms?” He tucks a lock of hair behind my ear.
I shrug. “Okay, I guess. I feel like I’ve been studying my ass off, but unfortunately, school just isn’t as easy for me as it is for you. I get into those exams sometimes and just freeze up, or my mind goes blank. Or I just end up putting down the wrong answers, even if I think they’re right. I’m freaking out about it a little.”
Mick tips my chin up from where I was sulking on his chest. “Hey now, none of that. You have been working so hard, and I know you’re going to do well. You’re much smarter than you give yourself credit for, Jolie.”
The words are sincere, and it’s the first time I think anyone has ever called me smart. Why does this guy have to be here at this time, when neither of those two things seem to match up to my plan right now? I don’t think I’m ready to knowingly step into something serious, because I’ve got a lot on the line with school.
Does the universe know that? Did it drop Mick in my path to test me, or to help me out?
“Thanks.” I clear my throat, uncomfortable with the compliment. “Are you going home for Thanksgiving break?”
Now Mick’s face becomes clouded with something I can’t read, and I know I’ve hit on those skeletons in his closet.
“Yeah, but only for a few days. I have to be back on campus for this thing I’m doing.”
I don’t bother asking about his parents, as he’s revealed little about them, even when we were at camp this summer.
“What’s that? Is this the mysterious job you’re always saying you can’t stay over for?” He’s left my house late at night or we’ve parted ways after studying because he has to be up early most mornings.
He begins kneading his knuckles into my shoulder, and holy crap does it feel amazing. “It’s actually this clinical trial I’m helping with in the medical school. Well, I wouldn’t say helping. I’m basically a runt intern, but they’re doing a lot of research over Thanksgiving break and want me back here.”
I sit up on an elbow, leaning into his chest. “Wait a minute, you’re an intern on a medical trial?”
“Yeah.” He blinks at me.
“That’s like really advanced, isn’t it? I mean, I know very little about medical trials, but don’t you have to be a doctor or something?” My mind is blown.
Mick chuckles. “Or a doctor in training. I basically begged my way in and get them coffee. Don’t be impressed.”
My mouth forms an O. “Of course I’m impressed! Jeez, you’re way too intelligent for me.”
He laces his fingers in mine. “Don’t say that.”
But it’s true. Mick is so impressive, light-years ahead of me in so many ways, and it’s kind of intimidating.
“You’re so impressive. Someday, I’ll get to call you Dr. Barrett. That’s pretty sexy. Can I come to you for a checkup?” I flirt with him, walking my fingers up his chest.
It’s easier this way, when we don’t have to talk about serious things. Talking about that can lead to discussing other things, like what we’re doing or where it’s going.
There is a devilish gleam in his eye. “I think I can give you a checkup right now.”
23
Mick
I’ve just finished my sixth episode of Game of Thrones, and the Pepsi on my nightstand is almost empty when my phone buzzes.
Jolie: Drunk. Mish you.
Well, someone is clearly having a good time. When she told me she was going out tonight, I told her of my plans and she’d booed me. I know she would have liked to tote me around like a puppy dog, grinding against her on some dirty living room dance floor, but it’s not my scene.
Her misspelling makes me smile. The only time I’ve ever seen Jolie truly drunk, she was a total mess. But she’s said she’s taking it easier, and I believe her if she can send texts with just one slip up.
Mick: What’re you doing over there, party girl?
Jolie: Horny. Want uuuuu
Mick: Oh yeah? Well, I’m already in bed.
While her drunk texting always makes me laugh, I haven’t given in yet. She’s reached out on about four occasions, wanting me to meet her back at her house after her night of partying. Actually, she always invites me out, which I guess is better than getting a booty call at the end of the night. But I didn’t want to be that person, showing up to a girl’s house just because she asked me to come crawling.
My feelings for Jolie are already complicated as it is. We said we’re keeping things casual, but aside from courses and my internship, I barely
think of anything else but her. I’d missed two phone calls from Mom this week while Jolie and I were “studying.” One of my assignments was turned in twenty minutes late because I’d forgotten after an hour in Jolie’s bed.
This isn’t casual, even though the two of us refuse to acknowledge that it isn’t. And it’s making me mess up the very things I told her I wouldn’t dare allow to be messed up. My future, my dreams of being a doctor, and everything I’m working toward to help my Dad and his disease … I wasn’t making them a priority.
But part of me can’t stop. The more time I spend with her, the more I realize that not everything in life depends on science and logic. When I’m around Jolie, I find my heart doing a backflip every time she smiles. I find my pulse quickening when she leans into me, or my breath catching when she touches me ever so slightly.
These aren’t explainable bodily reactions, and yet, most people would call them … love.
My phone vibrates again before I can get anymore in my own head.
Jolie: Boring! Don’t you want sex?
I weigh that in my mind. Of course, I want sex, but I’m not going to be the one who always goes to her. Thus far, I’ve gone to her off-campus house. I’ve met her at the times she can and implicitly agreed to leave her house in a hurry so that her roommates don’t see me. But I also want to see her … desperately. So I try a new tactic.
Mick: You can come over here if you can get a safe ride.
On the one hand, I’m not sure how drunk she is, or how drunk whoever she’s with is. Maybe I should have offered to drive down and pick her up, but that would defeat the purpose of having her come to me. It’s a test, to see if this really is casual, or if we need to have a larger conversation.
Jolie: What’s ur dorm and room? I’m comin.
Well, I guess that settles that. I text out the answer and then drop the phone on the bed. My fingers drum on my stomach, and I’m both impatient and anxious. I’ve never told a girl to come to me. It feels out of my nature, and the pit in my stomach is there because I’m not sure how to do this whole “college booty call thing.” Not that this is that, but it’s the first time I’ve had someone over late night.
And well, I’m a newb when it comes to having any sort of game.
Twenty minutes later, Jolie texts that she’s coming up in the elevator. I pass two of my roommates in the living room, and it occurs to me that maybe I should have given them a courtesy heads up that I was having a girl over. But they’ve never given me that, and I haven’t minded, so here we are.
Paul and Rodney are in the living room, playing video games, when I go out to get the door.
“Hi gorgeous.” Jolie leans into me, snuggling herself into my chest.
My arms come around her, and behind me, I hear two loud thumps. Turning, both Jolie and I see the two guys staring at us, eyes as wide as saucers.
“Hey.” Jolie wags her fingers at them. Her breath smells like cinnamon, and she sways on her feet a little. “I’m Jolie.”
A beat of silence passes, and then Paul jumps out of his chair. “Uh … I’m Paul. Welcome, I’m Paul.”
Yep, he introduces himself. Twice. In the same sentence. That makes Jolie giggle, and Rodney can do little more than offer a wave.
“We’re just going to go back to my room, okay?” I tell them, taking Jolie by the hand.
I don’t feel like making a spectacle right now, and it’s late.
“We’re talking about this later!” Rodney calls down the hall, and Jolie giggles.
“Mmm, I missed you.” She loops her arms around my neck, her soft skin surrounding me.
I walk us backward into my room, nuzzling in her neck. Instantly, my cock is hard. “Missed you, too.”
I’m not sure, but I don’t think friends with benefits or booty calls say that type of thing to each other.
My mouth meets hers, and before long, we’re making out in the middle of my tiny dorm room. Jolie cups me over my sweatpants, and I grind into her palm. Just as I’m about to start undressing her, her stomach gives a loud whine.
We break apart, laughing, as she presses a hand to her abdomen. “Ugh, seems like I have the drunk munchies. Got any snacks around here?”
“So you come over here to steal my food?” I tease her, palming her cheek in my hand.
“Feed me, Seymour!” She does the voice of the Audrey II from Little Shop of Horrors, and I might have just fallen head over heels.
“All right, let me see what I can scrounge up.” Though it means going to face the firing squad my roommates surely have planned.
I’m not wrong, because as I pull a bag of microwaveable popcorn out of the cabinet, Paul and Rodney corner me.
“Um, dude, that’s Jolie Kenner.” Rodney slaps my arm.
“Ouch.” I rub at the spot. “I know that.”
“Don’t play smart, dumbass! How did we not know that you were boning Jolie Kenner?” Paul practically screeches.
I roll my eyes, because they’re being douches. “I’m not boning anyone. Jolie and I … we met before I came to Salem Walsh. I like her. That’s all you need to know.”
Rodney throws his hands up. “This dude is hooking up with the hottest girl on campus, and he doesn’t even think it’s a big deal.”
“Maybe it’s because I look at her as a person, not a campus celebrity. She’s a great girl, and you better treat her with respect. I don’t want to hear any of that boning crap, got it?” I point my finger in their directions.
Something in my blood is boiling, because they’re treating her like some kind of superstar instead of the genuinely funny, nice female I’ve come to know. I have a feeling a lot of people regard Jolie that way, which is why she’s so quick to bottle herself up, or take on the party girl persona they expect of her.
“Got it.” Rodney nods. “Sorry, man. We didn’t mean anything by it. Just a little shocked.”
Paul nods along with his friend. “Yeah, sorry, man. Didn’t mean any offense.”
By the time I make it back to my room with her popcorn and water, she’s asleep on the bed. She’s curled up on my pillow, her dress riding up her thighs, and her heels are still on. Carefully, as not to wake her, I unlace the intricate straps from her ankles and place them on the floor. I help unzip her, and she mumbles a bit as I get her out of the silky pink slip of a dress, but doesn’t wake. For a split second, I wonder if this is creepy; me undressing her. But I figure she’s safer like this, and wouldn’t mind if I got her naked to snuggle. I mean, that’s what she came over here for in the first place.
Once she’s undressed, I shuck everything but my boxers and climb onto the bed, pulling the covers over us both as I snuggle her gently against my chest.
It’s the first time we’ve strictly slept together, much less in a bed. It’s also the first time we’ve been intimate without having sex. And for me, it’s the first time I’ve ever had a girl in my bed to stay the night.
I know she might not remember it in the morning, but I relish the moment, breathing her in. The dark swathes us, and I can practically feel my heart crack wide open, emotion for her pouring out in my joints and tendons.
She’s invaded me, and I know now that I won’t be able to detach from her.
Not that I even want to.
24
Jolie
My eyes blink against the dim light of the room, the angle coming from the window different than where my bed is in my off-campus house.
It takes me a minute to remember where I am, but when a sleeping Mick shifts against my back, it comes back to me. I came to his dorm last night.
Honestly, my head isn’t hazy and I do remember everything I did last night, which means I controlled my drinking. Of that I’m proud. But I don’t remember getting undressed, or under the covers with him, so I must have passed out here.
Dammit. My first sleepover with Mick and I don’t even have the memories to obsess over when I’m alone. Rolling over, I snuggle into his arms, trying to soak up the last moments
of our sleepover.
I’ve slept in guys beds, even had some long-term flings that turned into a weeknight stay over situation. But I never cared about those guys like I do with Mick. It’s the first time he’s invited me over, and even if we are smooshed in a twin bed, my skin is tingling with the closeness and my heart is beating double time.
I try to sneak a peek around his room, but it’s mostly empty. There are a few photos I can’t make out over on his desk, which is piled high with books and papers. The open closet seems neat enough, with shirts on hangers and a few jackets or sweatshirts near the right side. There is no mess on the floor, but I wouldn’t expect there to be, and it smells nice enough. His sheets are a navy blue, with a matching plaid comforter.
Mick’s fingers start to stroke slowly up and down my back, eliciting goose bumps.
“Mmm, feels good,” I whisper, trying to nuzzle in as close as possible.
He doesn’t say anything, just kisses my temple as he continues slowly scratching my back. I could get used to this, waking up beside him. The thought both makes my heart drop to my knees, and calms it. Because I’m very in tune with how I feel about this guy, but it scares the crap out of me. I’ve never wanted more than a few nights of fun, but with him, I’d rather the mornings after and the in-betweens than the sexy times.
Which is a big feeling to swallow.
“Morning.” His deep, sleep-coated voice meets my ear.
“Morning.” I smile, pulling back to look at him.
I don’t even feel self-conscious, with the need to brush my teeth or go dab some eye cream on my bags, because I’m too busy studying him. If it’s possible, Mick is more handsome when he’s just woken up. His thick, straight hair is tossed this way and that, with those moss green eyes full of drowsy dreams. His skin is warm against my touch, and with the way he’s looking at me, I know what’s on his mind.
Nerdy Little Secret Page 11
