by Cole Lepley
I can hardly breathe. Ollie’s gripping the back of my neck, his tongue working inside of my mouth as if to taste every corner, every crevice. All the years of built-up tension, all of the unspoken words, are all being poured out in this one amazing, never-ending kiss.
I don’t ever want it to stop. I’m grinding my hips over his erection, knowing full well what it’s doing to him. Deep, throaty groans vibrate into my mouth every time I move, and it makes me want to do it more. I’m greedy for him. It’s been so long, and I’ve spent so many nights with his name on my lips and my hand between my thighs.
Just one last time. That’s all I need to get him out of my system. It will be the closure I so desperately need.
My fingers are threaded through his hair to the roots while his hands continue to roam my body. First my ass, then up my sides, landing on my breasts. With a groan, he finally breaks away, practically gasping for air.
His eyes search mine for a moment, indecision written all over his face. His chest rises and falls roughly. “We need to stop.”
“Is that what you want?” I cock my head, twisting his hair in my fingers tighter.
He looks taken aback. I’m pressuring him even though I know he’s trying to go slow with me. I know he thinks it will somehow fix everything, and he’ll find his way back into my heart. The truth is, he never left it, but I’m not willing to let him destroy the only piece of it that remains.
“No,” he says, breaking my train of thought. His eyes drift between us and then back to mine. “—but if you keep doing that, I’m going to fuck you.”
I should be offended by his words, but I’m not. They excite me. I enjoy being wanted by him. He’s rock hard beneath me and it brings me a certain satisfaction to know I can still affect him so much. Being desired by the one everyone wants is still an achievement, even if it’s a hollow victory.
In the back of mind, I know I should put a stop to this. If we keep going it will blur the lines even further and make it harder to leave. But another part of me wants one last taste. I lean in again and this time, he cups his large hand to my cheek, holding me in place.
My lips part once more, and he doesn’t waste any time slipping his tongue back inside and sending pulse waves straight down to my core. If I’m being honest, my entire body feels that way. The ripples flow through every vein, every muscle, until I’m practically a live wire.
He lets out another deep groan and my stomach clenches, the butterflies nervously fluttering to the point where I fear I might explode. I’ve never wanted someone so badly and my body won’t let me forget it.
I angle my head to deepen our kiss and he grips my waist tighter. My breasts are pushed up against his solid chest and I swear I can feel his heart pounding into mine. Of all the times that I’ve kissed him, I can’t remember one that felt this important. Reluctantly, I pull back.
His hand remains on the side of my face, his thumb gently trailing my cheek. “You okay?”
That’s a loaded question. Physically I feel amazing, but my heart? I’m not so sure.
I shake my head, but don’t offer an explanation. Worry creases his forehead. “You want to stop?”
My head shakes again. This time more confidently. His eyes turn molten and he rolls me onto my back, supporting his weight by resting on his side. His hand trails down my stomach and his lips find mine again. He kisses me slower now, exploring my mouth with his. My body reacts to his touch, every inch of skin tingling where his hand grazes. When he gets to the hem of my shorts, he traces circles below my belly button with his fingertips.
Feeling bold, I grab his hand and push it lower. He doesn’t break contact with my mouth as he starts to slide his hand under the waistband of my shorts. His finger trails down the center of my panties and he gives me another throaty groan.
He breaks our kiss and presses his face against my neck. “Do you want me to touch you here?”
The husky tone of his voice makes the question more erotic than it should be. There’s something about the way he speaks to me when we’re being intimate that sets me on fire.
My hips act on their own volition, rocking against his hand. He chuckles near my ear, sending shivers down my neck. His lips brush my skin and then he whispers, “I’ll take that as a yes.”
I nod reverently, clutching the bottom of his T-shirt when he slides the small strip of fabric to the side. His finger gently probes through my folds, dragging the wetness back up to my clit and swirling it in a circle. I’m already on the verge before he slides his finger back down and slips it inside of me.
The moan it causes would almost be embarrassing, but the look on his face makes me feel otherwise. His eyes are darkly hooded while he watches my face, slowly dragging his finger in and out. He pulls them to his mouth for a moment, wetting them and then adding a second. I’m not sure he even needed to do that considering how turned on I am right now, but it was sexy as hell.
A few seconds later, I’m shamelessly riding his hand in search of a release. Ollie now looks kind of like he’s in pain, although I’m sure he’s not. I bite my bottom lip and then inch my hand over to his belt buckle. He stills and his eyes shift to mine.
“What are you doing?”
I lean up to his lips and kiss him once. “Maybe I want to touch you, too.”
Ollie’s eyes widen, but I continue and make quick work of his belt and then unbutton his pants. The moment I take him in my hand, his breathing picks up. His lips find mine again as I start to make slow strokes along the smooth skin of his shaft. When I increase my grip, his breath hitches and he breaks our kiss, pulling back.
He presses his forehead to mine, breathing heavily. “I’m not sure how long I’ll last if you keep that up.”
I nip at his bottom lip with my teeth. “I thought you could go all night.”
He smiles, but there’s something nervous about it. He pulls his hand from between my legs and rests it on my hip. “I don’t have anything with me, and uh…” His voice trails off and he looks away for a moment. When his eyes return to mine, they’re guarded. “Should we do this?”
I answer him with another kiss and opt to reply to only one of his questions. “It’s okay. I’m good.”
The smirk I expect to see doesn’t come. He continues to look reserved and I still have my hand wrapped around his dick. The Ollie I used to know would already have twisted me into a pretzel without a second thought.
But he’s still thinking. Deep lines form along his forehead and he sighs, sitting up on the couch. I pull my tank top down and sit up beside him. My eyes drift to his erection, still straining against the band of his boxers. Only Ollie could be in the middle of a moral dilemma and still maintain a hard on.
“What’s the matter?” I ask softly.
He shoots me an incredulous look. “You said I couldn’t even kiss you and now—” he motions to his crotch. “—Now I can’t think straight.”
I give half a shrug. “It’s just sex.”
His eyes narrow slightly, anger flashing in them. “Not with you. Never with you.”
My throat closes up and I struggle to take my next breath. Am I really the one doing the pressuring right now? Ollie is known for one-night stands and casual sex. If I meant that much to him, he would have shown me by now.
Instead of causing an argument and completely breaking the spell, I lean over and place my hand on the side of his face. When his eyes meet mine, I smile.
“Do you want me?”
He laughs once. “That’s a stupid question.”
My smile turns coy and I reach down and wrap my hand around him once more. He hisses through his teeth, closing his eyes. I give him a few firm strokes before standing up and sliding my shorts and panties off. His eyes pop back open, and glaze over at the sight of my half-naked body.
His lips part as he leans back against the couch cushion. I remove my tank top and unsnap my bra with one quick movement. I cock my head, brazenly staring him straight in the eye.
�
�Still want to ask questions?”
Ollie shakes his head slowly and pulls his shirt off. He kicks his pants off next and then crooks his finger at me. I don’t hesitate, stepping forward and straddling his lap. Rocking my hips, I rub along him for a moment while he places open-mouthed kissed on my neck, his hand firmly planted on the small of my back.
With a shaky hand, I reach between us and guide him inside of me, slowly inching my way down. I take a sharp breath at the sudden fullness and he rasps something unintelligible. When I sink all the way down, his hands dig into my sides.
“Fuck,” he growls. He takes a few shallow breaths and then says, “Go slow.”
I grab the back of his head, bringing his lips back to mine and start move at an easy, rhythmic pace. A few seconds later, he unleashes a desperate sound and I smile.
“What?” he pants.
I lean forward, swiping my tongue inside his mouth before pulling back. “Are you going to come?”
“No.” His voice is smooth and deep, his golden eyes hazed over. “But I need a distraction.”
The strain is his voice makes me smile wider and I press my lips below his ear. “Think about something else.” I kiss his cheek next and sit up straighter, resuming my leisurely pace.
He nods and then his eyes close tight. “It’s the bottom of ninth, bases are loaded…” His voice trails off again and he hisses through his teeth. “Fuck.”
I start to move even slower, but it’s actually working against me. My clit is rubbing his pelvis in the most delicious way. I’m in danger of coming before I finish torturing him. “Are you thinking about baseball?”
“Yes,” he breathes. His eyes pop open and lock on mine. “It’s not working.” He thrusts up into me forcefully and an unexpected moan bursts out of me. His hand moves from my waist to cup my breast. “You’re so fucking tight and I’m not wearing a condom.”
My stomach clenches and I know I’m getting dangerously close to losing it myself. I’m nearly breathless when I lean forward and poise my lips over his. “We can always go for extra innings.”
This time Ollie does smirk. Before I have a chance to catch my breath, he flips me onto my back again. He centers himself between my legs, bending one back and gripping me hard behind my knee.
His lips descend onto mine once more, and for the first time tonight I stop thinking. I stop trying to plan how this is going go and just submit to him. It wouldn’t be the first time, and I have a feeling it won’t be the last.
Chapter 26
What Would Judah Do?
Oliver - Now
I’m so confused right now. Last week Charlie and I had sex—which was fucking amazing, but now she’s acting like nothing happened. I even woke up in her bed the next day and all she said to me was “good morning,” and then muttered something about having an appointment to get to. It felt a lot like a morning-after brush-off. Which has never fucking happened to me before. I don’t know how to feel about it.
Since then, she’s been weird. Not exactly distant, but not overly affectionate either. I haven’t even kissed her again since I’ve been inside of her. We skipped over every step we were supposed to take and went straight for the good stuff—except it doesn’t feel good. I’m sure I sound like the ultimate pussy right now, but I can’t help it. I want everything we should have had all along, and I’m not willing to be patient. Too much time has already been wasted because I was afraid to be real with her. That ends now.
I’ve decided that the best way to get some clarity on the subject is to discuss it with someone who has experienced it first-hand. In the end, Judah didn’t get the girl, but he did learn a valuable lesson. One that I still have a chance to avoid.
I’m sitting inside the bar at the Lodge, watching Judah and Elliot involved in what appears to be a heated discussion on the sidewalk out front. The large wall of windows not only provides a scenic view for guests, but it also makes it easy to people watch while you drink. It’s an activity I usually enjoy, but Judah’s attitude is notably subdued when we walks inside the bar.
He pulls his ballcap farther down on his head and sits at the barstool across from me. “What’d I miss?” His tone is casual as he grabs the pitcher from the center of the table and fills his glass. “Did they kick off yet?”
I shake my head, watching him carefully. “No, we still have five minutes.”
He nods and takes a long drink, refilling his glass before returning the pitcher. I arch an eyebrow. Judah has been making a valiant effort to reduce his drinking since returning to campus this year. I’ve watched him nurse the same beer for an entire night recently, and now he’s tipping them back as fast as he can pour them.
I sigh. “I’m sorry. I didn’t know she was going to be up here.”
Judah looks over at me, his brow furrowing. “No, it’s totally fine. I talk to Elliot all the time.”
“Yeah, but that looked weird.” I motion to the sad, dumb look that’s still on his face. “You still look fucking weird.”
Judah shakes his head, his expression surprisingly serious. “No, it’s not that.” He looks away from me for a moment, his jaw working. “I don’t know. Sometimes it’s not easy to be friends with her.” He turns back to me and shrugs one shoulder. “Sometimes it’s really fucking hard.”
“I get it. You’re allowed to feel that way.”
My words are sincere and uncharacteristically supportive. Typically, I would call him a pussy and tell him to suck it up. Then I’d suggest fucking one of her friends to make himself feel better —but I’m not like that with Judah. He may be a beast on the field, but underneath it all it all he’s a sensitive little lamb. To be honest, we’re more similar than I would like to admit. Hunter is one hundred percent my best friend. He’s my ride or die, homie for motherfucking life—but there are some things I can’t talk to him about.
Judah flashes a smile, lightening the tone. “I’m just inside my head at the moment. It doesn’t really have to do with her.”
My ears perk up. “A new girl?”
He laughs. “No. Well…I’m not sure. It’s complicated.”
The way he’s stumbling over his words makes me even more interested. I motion with my hand for him to continue, but he shakes his head.
“We don’t have time to sort through the tragedy that is my love life.” He nods to me. “I’m here for you. What’s going on with Charlie?”
A heavy sigh racks through me and I tip back the rest of my beer. I meet his eyes. “We had sex.”
“And?”
“And that was it. She’s still acting like we’re ‘just friends’ and it’s making me crazy. I want to tell her I want more, but I’m afraid it’ll push her away.” I rub my hand over my jaw, irritated by the thought. “It feels like a loss no matter what I do.”
Judah shakes his head. “No, you’re missing the obvious.”
I laugh like his statement is ridiculous. Nothing gets past me.
But still, I tilt my head closer. “What’s that?”
He smiles. “Tell her how you feel.”
His words are simple, but at the same time, so fucking hard.
“She knows how I feel,” I say instead.
Judah snorts and then takes another drink. “If she did…” his voices trails off and he motions between us. “We wouldn’t be having this conversation right now.”
I release a frustrated grunt. “Fuck. You’re right, okay?” I lower my voice. “I just, well, I don’t know how to say it.”
“Easy,” he says with a shrug. “Just say, ‘I love you.’”
My teeth clench together, and he grins. “It’s not easy, dick. I’ve never said it to anyone.”
“Not even Elliot?”
“That’s different,” I scoff. “She’s my sister.”
“It’s not, actually. You either love someone or you don’t.”
His casual demeanor is pissing me off. What’s more serious than love? Those are three words that are thrown around way more than they should
be. You’re supposed to not only mean them, but uphold their meaning. I’ve never been in a position where I felt I was capable of doing that. Maybe I’m not all the way there yet, but today was another step in the right direction.
I made it through an entire morning plotting for the new building with my father. Despite a few choice words, I think it went well. If I’m going to get Charlie to take me seriously, and show her I can take care of her, then I’m going to have to start taking myself seriously as well.
Judah’s staring at me, waiting for a response I don’t have. I blow out a forceful breath. This is why he’s here, so I should make the most of it.
“Okay, what do I do?”
He smiles again. “Just tell her, dude. Walk up to her, look her right in the face, and say those three little words.”
“I can’t.” My words come out strangled and I clear my throat, sitting up straighter on my stool. “I mean, I don’t think I can.”
“Sure you can,” he says encouragingly. He pats his chest. “Practice on me.”
I sputter a laugh. “What? You’re fucking high.”
“Come on, Ollie.” He tilts his head toward me. “Don’t you love me?”
My fist clenches on the table. “You’re not funny. I’m being serious.”
“So am I. Just say it.” My eyes narrow, but he laughs at me. “Once you get the first one over with, the next time will be easy.”
The bar isn’t completely packed at the moment, but there’s enough people here that no one would actually hear me. Not that I’m uncomfortable with expressing male bro love, but it’s not my style. I was taught to keep that shit on the inside where it belongs.
Judah’s still grinning at me when I down the rest of my beer. I lock eyes with him after setting my glass on the table, my jaw tense.
“You’re an asshole.”
“Just say it, pussy.”
An incredulous laugh bursts out of me and I arch an eyebrow. “Oh, really? I’m a pussy.” I square my shoulders and look him dead in the eye. “Judah, I love you.”
He stays quiet for a moment and then a large grin spreads across his face. “Aw, Ollie. I love you too, man.”