Addicted To Him

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Addicted To Him Page 22

by Monica Murphy

Ava gazes up at me, her green eyes extra dark. “If you wanted something that’s uniquely mine, you should’ve asked for my panties.”

  She can’t say things like that and expect me not to react. “And you would’ve given them to me, huh?” My voice is full of doubt because, come on.

  This is Ava we’re talking about. She would never give me her panties. She’s a good girl.

  “Maybe.” Her smile is sweet with a hint of evil. “If you asked nicely.”

  “Next time we’re together, I’ll ask for them,” I say casually, like there will be a next time.

  “Deal,” she whispers as I lean my head down and kiss her.

  I touch her face. Slip my tongue into her mouth. She tastes amazing. I could kiss her out by the lake all night if she’d let me. I’ve got nowhere to go.

  Does she?

  “Where do your parents think you are?” I ask after I break away from her perfect lips.

  Her eyes open, and she smiles lazily at me. “Ellie’s.”

  I kiss the tip of her nose. “You’re bad.”

  “Where does your mom think you are?” she throws back at me.

  “My friend Brenden’s,” I admit.

  “You’re bad,” she repeats.

  Right before she tackles me.

  We end up tangled up in each other, lying partially on the sand and the giant blanket I stole from the cabin. It’s thin and smells a little musty but it’s huge, and it keeps us relatively toasty. And obscured.

  Not that there’s anyone out here watching us.

  I rise above her, the blanket over my shoulders, her body stretched out beneath mine on the ground. She’s smiling up at me, her lips swollen from our kisses, her chest flushed. Usually when we do this sort of thing, it feels like a struggle between us. A fight.

  Not tonight. The glow in her eyes is welcoming. Her body is relaxed. She wants me. Maybe as badly as I want her. Her nipples are hard beneath the sports bra and unable to help myself, I reach out, cupping her breast, my thumb skimming across it.

  Her eyes shut, her lips parting. “Eli.”

  I don’t stop touching her. It’s like I can’t. I stroke her skin. Her ribs. Her flat belly. She’s trembling. Fuck, I am too. I duck my head, my mouth trailing along the neckline of her sports bra, kissing the bare skin there, not daring to put my mouth where I really want to.

  Not yet.

  Her hands automatically go to the back of my head, clutching me. Keeping me there. I kiss her repeatedly, daring to lick the hollow between her breasts. She whimpers, and when I trace my finger along the bottom of her sports bra, slipping it beneath the fabric to touch the underside of her breast, she shudders.

  “I want to take it off.” I lift away from her, meeting her gaze. She’s watching me, her teeth digging into her lower lip. She appears nervous. Unsure. Exactly how I feel. “Can I?”

  I am not one to ask. I just…do. But I don’t want to make a mistake with Ava.

  I don’t want to fuck this up.

  She nods and like an overeager puppy, I’m pulling it off of her, cursing whoever invented tight fabric that’s impossible to remove. I tug it over her tits, and she’s trying to slip her arms out of it at the same time, and at one point the bra gets wound around her head and one arm, restricting her movement.

  We start to laugh. And that’s another thing I’ve never experienced with a girl before. Laughing while doing something like this. It’s always so serious. Or hurried. Yeah, that’s more like it. Hurried and quick, like I can’t get there fast enough. And I’m almost always disappointed when it’s over.

  Or worse, I feel let down.

  “Hold on,” I tell Ava before I gently disentangle her arm from the sports bra, then pull it over her head and off. She lies back down, her arms at her sides, her naked chest on full display, all for me, and I just stare at her for a long, voiceless moment.

  Yeah. I can’t speak. She’s gorgeous. Her nipples are tiny. Her tits are too, though I would never call her flat. Unable to help myself, I reach out and cup them both, holding them in my hands.

  Perfect.

  Her eyes shut, and then I’m kissing all that newly exposed skin, running my mouth all over her, avoiding her nipples on purpose. They get harder, until they’re pointing at the sky and practically begging for me. Finally, I touch them. Circle them with my fingers. Drift the back of my knuckles across them. She sucks in a sharp breath, squirming a little beneath me, as if she’s restless. Her thigh brushes against my dick, and I know she can feel how hard I am.

  But I am doing my best to restrain myself. This is all about her tonight.

  Not me.

  I kiss her mouth, and she’s hungry. Greedy. Our tongues twist, the kiss turning sloppy. Messy. Fucking sexy.

  Breaking away from her, I drag my damp mouth along her throat, across her collarbone, down her chest. Circle her left nipple with my tongue.

  I keep this shit up for what feels like hours, until she’s a writhing, incoherent mess. I lift my leg, pressing my knee between her thighs and within seconds, she’s grinding her pussy on me while I worship her chest. Her breaths are coming faster, and I press my knee hard against her, hoping like hell she can get off on my leg.

  I want to make her come. I want to watch her fall apart. I want to see little miss perfect lose control. That moment will be all mine and no one else’s.

  She’s panting my name like a chant. Like she needs something more from me and I lift away from her chest, thrusting my face in hers. She opens her eyes, and they’re wide. Desperate. “What do you want?” I ask gruffly.

  “T-touch me,” she whispers, and I don’t hesitate.

  I place my hand between her legs, amazed by the heat there. I want to touch her bare skin, but I don’t know if she’ll let me. Instead I touch her like this, through layers of thin fabric. I press my fingers against her, nice and tight. My thumb right about where her clit should be, I start to rub. Back and forth. Up and down. Tight little circles.

  She moves with me, thrusting her hips. I figure I must be doing something right since her breathing becomes faster, and she’s making these sexy little moans as she strains toward it. Reaches for it.

  Instinct tells me she’s so damn close.

  I kiss her. Thrust my tongue into her mouth in rhythm with my fingers between her legs. And that’s when I feel her start to let go. Her entire body stiffens for the briefest moment, just before she begins to shiver and shake, a moan falling from her lips. I break the kiss and open my eyes, wanting to watch her. No surprise, it’s a beautiful sight.

  Pretty little Ava Callahan falling apart beneath my fingers, her beaded nipples still wet and glistening from my mouth, her thighs clutched tight around my hand. I dazedly realize the fucking bow is somehow still around my left wrist. That unfortunately, I’m still fully clothed, and my dick is so hard, it’s painful. But that’s okay. Like I thought earlier, this night isn’t for me. It’s for Ava. It’s for me proving to Ava that I want to be with her. That I want to make her feel good. Right now, though…

  This is a moment I will never, ever forget.

  Once the shuddering stops, Ava cracks her lids open, her glittering green eyes meeting mine, a satisfied smile curling her lips. “Um,” she starts.

  That’s it. That’s all she says.

  “Um?” I repeat, raising a brow as I slowly withdraw my hand from between her thighs. “How was that, huh?”

  She laughs. The sound is deep and sexy, and she’s reaching for me, pulling me into her, our mouths aligned. “Wow,” she whispers just before she kisses me.

  Wow. That’s all I get.

  But that’s enough.

  Twenty-Seven

  Ava

  Do you have practice every day?

  The Snapchat text from Eli appeared during first period Monday morning. The Monday after everything shifted between us. We keep all of our conversations on Snap because…I don’t want anyone to know he’s talking to me. Not that my parents or friends or whoever check my notificati
ons or search through my phone, but I’d rather be safe than sorry.

  Snap feels safe. I erased his name a few weeks back. Now when I receive a notification, it says it’s from a series of notifications, most of them being black hearts.

  I send him a quick response back.

  I’m in class.

  He immediately responds.

  So am I. Tell me. Do you ever get a day off from cheer practice?

  Biting my lip, I glance around the classroom. No one is paying attention to me. The teacher is talking, though I’m not really listening. Neither is anyone else. They all either look half asleep or they’re messing around on their phone. The entire back row is having a full-blown conversation, and one of the girls keeps laughing. Very loudly.

  Seriously, no one gives a crap.

  I hold my phone in my lap and answer Eli.

  There’s no cheer practice on Wednesday.

  I get the notification that Eli is typing, and it takes forever. Like he’s writing an essay. I wait and wait, until the point that I get restless and raise my hand, asking if I can use the bathroom.

  I dash out of the room right when my phone buzzes with a notification.

  Eli: Let’s get together Wednesday night after my football practice. You can meet me at my school, and we can hang out. Maybe go get something to eat. What do you think?

  This sounds like he wants to take me on a date. But where? Hopefully nowhere nearby. Walking into a local restaurant with Eli beside me is risky. And I can’t just show up at his school. The campus is small. What if people see me?

  Eli: Meet me there like…ten minutes after practice ends. 6:10. What do you think?

  I want to do it. I want to see him. We stayed the night in the cabin together Friday, and it was pure bliss. The two of us wrapped up in each other on a narrow bed, kissing and touching throughout the night. Talking until I finally fell into a deep, dreamless sleep. We woke up early Saturday morning, and while at first it felt awkward between us, Eli immediately put me at ease.

  He’s become really good at that.

  We went our separate ways around nine. I was reluctant to leave. I clung to him. But he said he had to get home because his mom was texting him, and I believed him. His mom is on his case extra hard right now. I don’t know exactly what happened between them to cause this, but it has something to do with rising tensions from his parents’ divorce.

  It sucks.

  Me: Okay. I’ll see you Wednesday.

  Eli: Can’t fucking wait to see you

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