by Dean, Ali
My eyes narrow. “Two drinks, Beck.”
Beck runs a hand over his face, clearly distraught by this information. I don’t get it. It’s not as if I told him I’m popping pills or snorting cocaine. Don’t most people in college drink? That’s definitely the impression I’ve had.
Beck doesn’t say anything, but his silence is more powerful than any words as he opens the door behind me and waits for me to climb inside. I do, but I’m not sure I want to anymore. Beck gets in on the other side and starts the van. I feel as if I’m being reprimanded, and it makes my neck heat in humiliation. But then I’m angry he’s making me feel this way. It’s another cycle of emotional torture fueled by Beckett Steele, and if it wasn’t for all the emotional highs I also get from being around him, I wouldn’t endure this.
Unable to look at him, I stare out the window. It’s not until the half pipe comes into view that I realize where he’s taken us. Beck parks the van.
“Jordan, look at me.”
I turn my head his way, hoping my emotions aren’t written all over my face.
“Have you ever had a drink before tonight?” he asks.
I shake my head. “No.”
“How do you feel right now?”
“I was feeling fine. Now I’m pissed off and kind of want to go back to the party.” It’s the truth; Beck’s killing my buzz. But that’s when it hits me, I was maybe feeling just a tiny itty bit of a high earlier from those wine coolers. That’s probably what gave me the courage to kiss Davis.
Beck takes my hand. “I’m not mad at you, Jordan. I can tell you’re not drunk. I want to think you kissed Davis because you’d been drinking,” he adds, once again reading my thoughts, “but that would mean I’d have to question if you really meant you want this between us too.” He pauses and frowns. “You actually haven’t said that yet. Is this what you want? Please tell me this is what you want.”
“Yes, Beck. I want you.” I can’t believe he’s even asking for clarification on that.
“Thank fuck,” he grunts out. He leans forward, cupping my face with his hands, and drops his forehead to mine. “This is going to be torture, but I’m seriously only going to kiss you and sleep beside you tonight.”
“Okay,” I agree easily.
“And only because I know you want to make it official and shit and I do too. So when we wake up tomorrow morning, there’s no wondering or second-guessing it. We’re together. Not friends. Got it?”
“Okay, but what about the torture part? That all sounds good to me.”
“The torture is that you’ll be sleeping next to me in this tiny space and I can’t touch you.”
“You can’t touch me?” I ask, confused. “Oh! Oh, you can’t touch me like the way I asked you to touch me earlier.”
He lets out a pained sigh. “Right, like that.”
“Why not?” I wonder. “Is it because I drank two wine coolers?” I would totally be down with him touching me.
“Partly, yeah. But it’s a lot, Jordan, for both of us. All of this, what we talked about. We need to let it settle.”
I move my head in a nod, which doesn’t really work since his forehead is still resting on mine. I took the lead earlier, when it came to laying out the dynamic between us, but when it comes to this, I’m okay letting him take the reins. My head is swimming with the words he said, and my heart is still somersaulting in excitement and whiplash. Add his hands on my skin where I’ve only imagined them before, and I might just explode. But that kiss? I’ll take the kiss.
“Are you going to kiss me now or what?”
Beck
Swallowing a growl, I do kiss her, but it’s nothing more than a long, drawn-out peck. I’m already half hard just sitting next to her in the van, and my control is slipping. I mean what I said, that things between us need to settle, but right now it doesn’t sound all that convincing. Still, her lips were on another dude’s tonight. She drank for the first time. And I’m still raw and reeling from the entire fucking day and night.
Jordan looks disappointed with the kiss but she manages a wink. “Looks like all we have to do now is sleep, and tomorrow morning, you’re all mine, Beckett Steele. Officially and all.” Jordan has this flirty voice I’ve only ever heard her use for me. It’s real and innocent and saucy all at once and makes me feel like a god for getting it from her. There are times when she can even seem aloof, but I’ve spent enough time with her now to know that it’s only skateboarding daydreams on her mind.
“Come on. You’re the first chick to ever sleep in here with me,” I tell her as I climb into the back. “I had to share a couple times with Griff.”
“Well can we at least snuggle?” she asks. “It will be pretty tough not to touch at all. How did you and Griff manage, anyway?”
“Oh, I made him sleep on the bench seat. He was trashed both times so didn’t really care.”
Jordan laughs and I pull her to me as we collapse on the bed. I still can’t believe what she’s wearing, but I’ve managed not to say a damn word about the top that covers next to nothing. Now that she’s mine, I have to admit I like it a hell of a lot. But knowing she was at the party with Davis… I’m really going to need to get over that. At least I came to my senses when I did. At least she didn’t make it harder on me for acting like an asshole.
Jordan snuggles in deeper at my side and lets out a happy little sigh.
“Let me get you something more comfortable to sleep in,” I offer, reaching for the drawer I keep under the bed with clean clothes.
She examines the boxers and tee shirt I hand her with a lot of interest. “You want me to wear this?”
“Yeah, it’d be more comfortable.” I should probably keep my shirt on too, even though I hate sleeping with one.
“Okay.” She shrugs and pulls the shirt on over her head as she gets off the bed. It’s high enough for her to stand, and my throat goes dry when she does. Yeah, she’s more covered than she was before, but she’s now facing me with her hands under the shirt as she unties the little scrap of fabric she was wearing as a top. I know she doesn’t mean to make it a strip tease, but I feel like I’m getting one. She pulls out the halter thingy, and I try really hard not to think about her bare breasts under my shirt. But I fail. When she starts to pull down her shorts, I have to look away or I won’t be able to keep myself in check. This was not a good idea. Why did it I agree to it again?
Jordan hums happily as she slides under the covers beside me. On instinct, I pull her across my chest. Nah, this is perfect. Best idea ever. My lips brush the top of her forehead. “Night, Jordan.”
“Night, Beck.”
A surge of warmth fills me. Earlier today this lot was filled with people waiting to watch her compete for the first time. She blew them away, blew me away if I’m being honest. I’d watch her from the sidelines any day, but next time I get to do it as her boyfriend. Her fucking boyfriend.
Chapter Three
Jordan
My cheek is smooshed against something warm and sunlight is hitting me in the eyeball. I know I’m not in my dorm room, and the night before starts to play out like a video in my head. Me in a towel sitting next to Beck on my bed. Beck busting out of there. Me deciding not to mope and go out with the girls. Wearing a barely-there halter top and drinking a wine cooler. Walking on the beach with Davis. Kissing Davis! I don’t have a chance to dwell on that, or what Davis might think about the situation and how I left with Beck minutes later. Warm fingers are running up and down my lower back. I’m in Beckett Steele’s van, in the bed in the van. The same bed he slept in the night before he watched me crash on the half pipe the day we met. We’re even parked in the same parking lot. It’s hard to believe it’s real.
My legs itch to jump on a board, knowing the park is probably empty this early on a Sunday morning. It’s also the same park where I had my first competition. Was that really only yesterday? I’m thinking about all I have to do, starting with calling my parents to share the news, but my mind shuts off the sec
ond I hear his voice.
“You awake?” It’s scratchy, and brings me right into this moment.
Oh shit I’m in Beckett Steele’s bed! My knees are curled up, pressing into his thigh, and my head is not on a pillow. It’s on his bare chest. I could have sworn he went to bed with a shirt on last night, but the palm of my hand is currently resting on flesh. Warm skin that is rising and falling gently.
“Yeah, kinda,” I answer, not wanting to move.
His hand pauses and splays out, pressing me closer. One of my legs stretches over his hips.
His palm drifts lower, reminding me I’m wearing his boxers. With his other hand, he pulls me in one swift movement so that I’m straddling him, and we’re face to face.
“Morning,” he says.
“You took your shirt off,” I whisper, like an idiot. I’ve never woken up with a guy in bed, and a shirtless one? I mean, that’s all I can really think about right now. That and the pressure already building between my legs. Sheesh, I’m barely awake and my body is raring to go even as my head is still fuzzy.
The side of Beck’s mouth rises. “Yeah, I don’t usually sleep with one. I guess I took it off at some point last night.”
“It’s really hot in here,” I point out, still not caring how idiotic I sound. I’m really not awake yet and it is awfully steamy.
“Is it?” He moves his hands to the edge of my shirt. Or, his shirt that I’m wearing.
“I can help with that.”
He starts to lift it and I let out a squeak, tugging it back down. My eyes dart to the windows. Sure, the parking lot is empty, but we’re like sitting ducks, the perfect view if anyone did pass by.
Beck chuckles. “The windows are tinted, Jordan. Besides, there aren’t any in back where we are. Someone would have to peer in to see anything.”
He drops the shirt, but his hand wanders underneath instead.
I suck in a breath as he moves slowly over my ribs until his knuckles brush the underside of my breasts. I’m not wearing a bra, and I swear his pupils dilate a little as we watch each other, our breaths the only sound between us.
His hands turn to cup my breasts, and one thumb rubs over my nipple. The sensation has my breath quickening, but it’s not enough, not even close.
Beck begins massaging one breast while playing with the other nipple, and I find myself squirming. Maybe I should have let him take off my shirt. I need more from him. My eyes widen as I think about what it would feel like to have his mouth where his hands are. Next thing I know, I’m ripping the shirt over my head, trusting Beck when he said no one can see me without pressing their face to the window.
I start to lean forward, showing him what I want, but he’s already there, lifting his head to put his tongue on the nipple instead of his fingers. One hand free now, he slides it down the back of the boxers I’m wearing and grips my bare cheek. It urges me to stop squirming mindlessly and grind in earnest.
I can feel liquid coating my center, but I’m too lost to care if Beck feels it too. Pressure mounts as he lavishes my breasts with sensations from his hands and mouth. I hold onto his shoulders, a flutter of embarrassment as I realize I’m literally riding him, going totally on instinct here but unable to stop. Any uncertainty is wiped away by the building pleasure that causes sounds to escape my lips I’ve never heard before. I press harder into him, and one of his hands moves from my chest to the back of my neck, bringing me down to kiss him. Beck’s tongue plunges inside my mouth and I suck it in rhythm to the movement of my hips. Pressure inside of me makes me needy and aggressive in chasing some release.
“Beck,” I pant his name, needing him to help me out here, not knowing what to do. I’m on sensation overload, and I don’t know how much more I can take before I lose my mind. It all feels too good, but it’s driving me crazy. Can people go crazy from making out like this? I just might.
Beck’s eyes meet mine as the hand on my ass slides even lower. My eyes are half-lidded with pleasure, but they start to widen as his finger moves between my legs from the back around front, all the way to the sensitive spot begging for relief. My hips lift from grinding against his erection, allowing him access to touch me. One finger presses on that bundle of nerves as the other slips inside me. I know I’m dripping and coated with wetness, but there’s no time to wonder if that’s normal. My mouth parts in wonder, and then my back arches, my head falling back as the pleasure explodes. Fireworks dot my vision, and I know I’ll never be the same again.
Beck
I had no intention of getting off this morning. I just wanted to feel her skin, have a little intimacy before we faced the world. But I should have known better. Jordan is pure fire, no holding back. Any prior sexual experience pales in comparison to watching her, feeling her, lose herself like this.
My dick is painfully hard, and I know I’ve got to finish or I might do some permanent damage. As I watch Jordan throw her head back, breasts bouncing gloriously, I take my hand that’s not between her legs and shove it down my own boxers, gripping myself. A grunt escapes my lips, and the sound of Jordan’s cries, so authentic and unfiltered, fills my senses. It takes one stroke. One single stroke. My balls tighten and the pleasure nears pain as semen erupts, landing on my chest. It keeps coming, the load heavy from weeks without the real release I’ve been wanting.
It’s not only my dick that’s overcome by this moment, this woman on top of me. My chest expands, rises and falls as my heart seems to reach for her, wanting to be even closer. I’m in so deep, how did I ever think I could get out?
Jordan’s chin falls forward, a curtain of hair surrounding her face. She watches as I hold myself, the final stream releasing and dripping down my fist.
I watch as she licks her lips, not hiding her fascination.
This wasn’t exactly how I thought our first time getting each other off would go. I meant to give her plenty of orgasms before I gave in to my own desires, but seeing her now? I wouldn’t have it any other way.
An obnoxiously loud honking followed by the sound of an engine has me pulling my hands away and rolling her to the side of the bed. Sure the windows are tinted, but I’m not taking any chances.
I grab a towel hanging by the bed to wipe off my chest and throw on the shirt I must have tossed on the floor last night. Glancing back as I get out of bed, I find Jordan lying half naked and in a daze, staring at the van’s ceiling.
Fuck. I’m not even half in love. I’m all there. Day one of being her boyfriend and I’m completely gone. I lean down, kiss her on the forehead and swallow down the words that are fucking singing from my chest right now. After pulling up the blanket around her, I climb to the front of the van and look out the driver’s side window.
Fucking Griffin and Taylor are parked next to us. Eating breakfast burritos and jamming out, windows down. They look over at me and grin, waving like they didn’t just interrupt quite possibly the best moment of my life. Definitely the best orgasm. I shake my head. Nothing can bring me down right now though. I don’t want to get out, so I hold up my hands, signaling ten minutes, and they nod in response.
I turn to climb right back into bed beside Jordan. “What was that?” she asks.
“That was Griff and Sly announcing their presence.”
“What are they doing here so early?” She yawns.
“It’s not that early, but my guess is they want to skate Riptide before the crowds show. You can relate to that, right?”
“Yes. You know I can. I’m usually a morning person but I’m so sleepy from staying up late.” She burrows into my side, making me want to stay in bed all damn day.
“It’s not just staying up late. Orgasms can wipe you out too,” I tell her.
Jordan sits up part way and props herself on an elbow. “Are we telling them? How are we going to do this anyway?”
“Telling them you had an orgasm? Hell no. But we’ll tell them we’re together. Or they can figure it out when I start kissing you every few minutes.” As I say this, something does
manage to bring me down a notch. Shred Live is like a fucking shadow creeping in, reminding me that I can’t have a public relationship. I’ll have to read the fine print, but pretty sure that term isn’t effective until January.
That means we’ll either have to fake break up, actually break up, or stay secret this entire time. Fuuuuuuuck. I need to tell Jordan about this, but I can’t, not now when she’s all sweet and sexy. For a girl with no previous experience, she’s so comfortable in her skin. At least with me she is. With the exception of her outfit last night, she doesn’t usually show much skin.
The blanket falls from her shoulder, exposing her chest. I start to reach for her, but manage to bring my hand to her waist instead. “The guys want to skate, and I’ve got an extra board in here again. You down?”
“Yeah, I’m down.” The sleepiness is gone from her voice as she starts to sit up, and then grabs the blanket as an afterthought to cover herself. “Wait, I don’t have a bra. All I’ve got is that thing.” She points to the scrap of fabric on the floor that she wore last night.
“Well, your boobs felt nice and firm and bouncy to me. I think they can handle it this once.”
She shoves me in the chest. “Right. I’d like to see you try to skate with uncontained boobs bouncing around.”
“We can skip and go back to campus if you want,” I offer. But I already know she won’t go for it.
“Nah, I’ll just suffer. At least I have sneakers.”
With Griff parked next to us, Jordan changes under the covers while I attempt to clean up with some soap and water on a towel. Once we’re decent enough, I’m still not ready to leave our cocoon.
I grab her for one more kiss, but when we hear doors slam and voices, she pulls away. “I could kiss you all day, Beck, but the skatepark is calling. I’ve never found anything that could pull me away from riding, but kissing you is awfully close.”
Chapter Four
Jordan
Someone pounds on the side of the van and I reach to slide the back door open. Looking out, I find Taylor is already dropping his board and riding across the empty lot while Griffin is giving me one of those wide easy smiles the Perry siblings are so good at. He doesn’t look surprised to see me.
