Mayhem

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Mayhem Page 23

by Jamie Shaw


  Adam suddenly lifts me off the ground, making me squeal. He carries me out to the kitchen and sets me down on the counter. Shawn is leaning against the fridge ordering pizza, and Dee is sitting at the breakfast bar munching on some tortilla chips, watching us with amusement.

  “What are you doing?” I ask Adam as he braces his hands on either side of me.

  “Do you remember that little game we played at IHOP?”

  How could I forget? I recall exactly which game he’s talking about—­the one where we pretended to be a ­couple to make that table of girls jealous. That was before Adam found out who I was, when he kissed the corner of my mouth and nearly made me swoon to death. My heart flutters at the memory. “Yeah . . .”

  “Well, that was fun, wasn’t it?” His smile is full of trouble. I know where he’s going with this.

  “Yeah . . .”

  Adam brushes my hair away from my ear, leaning in slowly and pressing his lips against it. His voice is quiet and smooth when he says, “So let’s have some fun.”

  I can’t help glancing back at Kayla and Zoey, who are both still sitting with Joel and Leti on the floor. They’re pretending not to be watching Adam and me—­and sucking at it, just like Joel is pretending not to be watching Dee—­and sucking at it.

  When Adam pulls away to gauge my reaction, I surprise myself—­and him—­by spreading my legs and pulling him between them. I tug on his neck until his ear is at my mouth. I know he’s down with playing this little game, but I’m betting Kayla and Zoey have a hell of a lot more to offer. Worried, I ask, “Are you sure you don’t want a threesome?”

  Adam chuckles and leans back. “Are you offering?”

  I playfully swat his chest, but he catches my hand, his eyes never leaving mine as he raises my wrist to his lips and presses a soft kiss against my pulse point. I wonder if he can feel my heart racing—­because it’s definitely threatening to pound out of my chest.

  Dee’s voice reminds me that she’s literally sitting right by me. She’s holding a chip near her gaping mouth, frozen in place. “This is better than porn.”

  An embarrassed giggle escapes me, and then Adam takes my hand and walks me to the couch, tugging me onto his lap while Kayla and Zoey openly stare at us.

  For the next twenty minutes, he flirts with me, tracing his fingers down my arms, squeezing my knees, nuzzling my neck and whispering in my ear. When the pizza arrives, I’m all too grateful to launch myself off of his lap and practically teleport to the kitchen. The last thing he did was kiss my neck, and I seriously don’t think I could take any more. I was experiencing the sweetest parts of hell.

  After everyone stuffs themselves with pizza, we reclaim our spots on the floor and start the game back up. Joel picks the next rule maker card on his first turn and—­because he’s clearly still traumatized over my non-­kiss with Dee—­fervently demands that all future kisses include full tongue and last at least ten seconds. I’m surprised he didn’t throw over-­the-­clothes groping in there, but I don’t want to mention it—­the last thing I want to do is give him ideas and then have him draw another rule maker card.

  With each turn that Kayla or Zoey take, I’m paranoid they’re going to pick a kiss card and make out with Adam right in front of my face. It would be the ultimate revenge for the faux PDA we put on before the pizza arrived. Even when Dee is actually the person who picks it, I have to hold my breath, worried that she’ll pick Adam just to teach me a lesson.

  She picks Leti, much to Shawn and Joel’s disappointment, and they put on a show that leaves my jaw on the floor. The next person to pick a kiss card is Joel, and he picks Dee, who leaves him with his jaw on the floor.

  With her finger under his chin, she gives him a kiss that plunges the rest of us into stunned silence. And then, in a daze, he crawls back to his seat, never taking his eyes off my best friend. Kayla and Zoey bristle, and when Dee catches it, her devilish smile widens and she releases a little chuckle. If I wasn’t sure that Leti and Macy are going to walk her to her car tonight, I’m pretty sure I’d have to bribe Mike into being her bodyguard.

  We continue going around the circle, the night getting darker and the stack of cards getting smaller and smaller until, finally, there’s only one card left.

  A smile spreads across Adam’s lips when he flips the final kiss card over, and then he stretches his arms behind his back and rises to his feet.

  He doesn’t glance across the circle like I did when I picked that card, and I don’t know if it’s because Kayla and Zoey are so much hotter than I am, or if it’s because of that stupid rule I made about us just being friends. Right now, I wish I had never said such a stupid thing. Last time he kissed me, I made him stop and insisted it could never happen again. Now, he’s going to pick one of the girls who practically tackled him to sit beside him, and I’m going to be crushed.

  My heart sinks when Adam walks behind Kayla and puts his hand on her head. He hasn’t been with any girls in front of me since I moved in, but a part of me always knew it was bound to happen eventually. He’s going to kiss her, and it’s going to take every last shred of willpower I have to not break into tears. He’s not mine. He’s never going to be mine. But even if he leaves with her tonight, at least I know he won’t be hers either. Not really.

  Kayla grins and starts to stand up, but Adam presses his hand more firmly against her head, making her fall back on her ass. “Apple,” he says, and Shawn snickers. Adam walks behind Shawn and puts his hand on his head, but Shawn is too busy smiling at me to even look up. “Apple,” Adam repeats, grinning down at Shawn. He walks behind Dee and puts his hand on her head, and I hold my breath. Dee is hot, probably even hotter than Kayla and Zoey. If Adam picks her, it will absolutely crush me. Dee would refuse to kiss him for my sake, but that wouldn’t make his choice hurt me any less.

  “Apple.”

  Adam walks behind me, and I wait to feel his hand on my head, but I never do. Everyone is staring at me, and I finally turn around to find him crouched behind me, his stunning eyes catching mine.

  “Peach.”

  I swallow hard, and then—­because I’m me—­I say something really, really stupid. In a tiny voice, I ask, “What?”

  Adam grins and leans in, pressing his lips against my ear. “You just got picked.”

  “If you don’t want to do it,” Kayla interrupts from across the circle, “you can just take a drink.”

  If I was having any doubts about doing it before, my mind is now completely made up. I turn and sit on my knees, and then I reach forward and curl my hands around the sides of Adam’s neck. I don’t have the courage to actually pull him to me though, so we’re just sitting there, a satisfied smile curving his lips.

  A second later, he slowly closes the distance between us, and his soft lips press gently against mine, parting them and frying every neuron in my brain. His kiss is silky smooth, and so is his tongue when it sneaks into my mouth. Without thinking, I suck on it lightly, and in the next instant, his arms are circled around my waist, tugging my body against his. Everyone else disappears. There is only the way he feels, the way he smells, the way he’s touching me.

  “That’s ten,” a distant female voice cuts in, but who the hell cares? Unless the building is on fire, she should probably shut the hell up, and even then . . . she should probably shut the hell up. “That’s ten!” it repeats.

  “Shut the hell up!” Dee scolds, and I finally stop kissing Adam long enough to open my eyes. He opens his eyes too, but then, eyes open, he pulls me in for another soft kiss. His lips caress mine once. Twice. He leans in next to my ear and whispers, low so that only I can hear, “We need to talk. In private.”

  Chapter Twenty-­Five

  I DON’T KNOW who stands up first, but then Adam and I are walking down the hallway, and . . . God, I have no idea why I’m following him to his room, but I ignore the jeers coming from the other direction an
d just let him lead me there. As soon as we’re inside, he turns around to close the door behind me, trapping me with his body.

  “You wanted that.” His tone is accusing, but his eyes are questioning, and I’m too nervous to answer everything he’s leaving unspoken.

  What I want from Adam is so, so much more than kissing. I want a million things he won’t ever give me. A million things he won’t ever give anyone.

  His smoldering eyes fix on the curve of my lips, heating them through his steady gaze alone. “Tell me you wanted that.”

  My nervous fingers slide up the downy-­soft material of his T-­shirt and curl around the back of his neck. I stare up at him and gently pull him down until I’m breathing the same air coming from his gorgeous, parted lips.

  I can’t say the words. I can’t tell him what I want. So I continue what we started.

  I kiss him.

  Adam hesitates for only a second before kissing me back with even more urgency than he did in the living room. His hands grip beneath my thighs and lift me off the ground, and my legs wrap tight around his hips as he carries me to the bed.

  He doesn’t break his lips from mine until he sets me on the mattress and makes short work of stripping me of my shirt. As he takes his off too, my trembling fingers find the button of his jeans, unfastening it and pulling down his zipper. Adam has gone still, and I allow my gaze to travel up over his flat stomach, past his tattoos, and over his silky soft lips. His eyes hold me captive as he kicks off his jeans and crawls over top of me.

  He kisses me like neither of us needs to breathe, and when his tongue is sliding between my lips like that, I’m pretty sure I don’t. His body presses me into his soft black comforter, his fire-­hot skin igniting the air around us and setting mine aflame. I’m lost in his scent, in his kisses, in his hands. He hitches my left knee up and rocks against my thin leggings, and the moan that escapes me prompts him to do it again. My head rolls back, and he does it yet again, his lips dropping to my neck as he sets an agonizing rhythm.

  His fingers are flames licking over my skin, dancing higher and higher until they’re cupping the silky material of my bra. The thin fabric feels brutally sensual against my pert nipple, and when he plucks with expert fingers, the inferno completely engulfs me. It steals all the oxygen from the room, but just when I’m sure I’m about to burst into flames, a knock on the door douses the moment.

  “Adam, we’re heading out!”

  “Fuck off, Joel!” Adam barks at the door, and an irrational giggle bubbles from my throat.

  I’m here . . . with Adam.

  Me . . . and Adam.

  His shaggy brown rocker hair frames his face when he smiles down at me. Then he settles at my side and slips his fingertip beneath the waistband of my leggings, snaking it in an agonizingly delicate line across my sensitive skin. Every cell in my body is tuned in to his touch, waiting impatiently for more.

  “Why didn’t you pick me tonight?” he asks, staring at me while I desperately try to think of something to say that won’t ruin everything.

  “Because we’re friends,” I quickly reason. It’s not exactly a lie.

  “Friends don’t do what I’m about to do to you, Peach.” Adam’s hand slides lower inside my leggings, gliding over my moist panties. His fingers rub in a firm circle, and my breath hitches in my throat at the same time a moan tries to form. “Is this what you want?” he asks.

  “Oh God.”

  Adam nibbles my earlobe, maintaining an agonizing pace with his fingers. “That’s not an answer, Peach.”

  I turn my face to him and suck his bottom lip into my mouth, which makes his rhythm falter a second before he slips his fingers into my panties and slicks them through my heat. They glide up to stroke my tight bundle of nerves, and I moan either his name or God’s, which should probably be the same thing. My fingers thread into his hair and I kiss him like I’ve never kissed anyone.

  “Adam,” I breathe, and he deepens our kiss before sliding his finger into me. My back arches and I suck his tongue into my mouth, surprised and ridiculously turned on by the half growl, half moan that rumbles in his chest.

  He pulls away only far enough to say against my mouth, “Tell me you want me.”

  “I want you,” I moan. I’ve never wanted anything so badly in my entire life.

  “Tell me why.”

  I’m breathless when I begin, “Because I—­”

  My eyes fly open when I realize I was about to tell Adam I love him.

  His finger stops moving, and he cautiously leans back to search my eyes. “What were you just going to say?”

  “I don’t know,” I stammer.

  Oh my God, DO I love him? Is that even possible?! We’ve only known each other for two weeks—­two freaking weeks—­which might as well be five minutes! My head does a quick comparison of how I feel about Adam and how I felt about Brady, and I realize with a certain degree of horror that I think I love Adam more. Two weeks with Adam and the pain of losing him would hurt even more than losing the man I gave three years of my life to.

  His hand slips out of my panties, and he stares at me for a long moment while my heart thunders in my chest. I’m terrified he knows—­terrified he’s going to remind me how much he doesn’t want a relationship right now, or ever—­but then he leans back in and his lips find mine in a dizzying rush. His kiss is bruising and insistent, and my thoughts are foggy with lust when he breathes against my mouth, “Tell me.”

  When I shake my head, he drops his kisses to my neck and rolls his tongue in the hollow of my collarbone. “Tell me.”

  My toes curl and my eyes roll back. Adam’s hand squeezes between the mattress and my leggings, gripping my ass as he roughly pulls me forward. His hardness grinds against my softness, and I trace my tongue over the shell of his ear.

  “Please,” I beg, needing him inside me. I’ve been so close to having him so many times, I’m afraid I’ll fall apart if I have to give him up again.

  Adam ignores my plea while kissing a soft line from my collarbone to the lacy trim of my bra, tugging the cup down over the swell of my breast and wrapping his wet lips around my primed nipple. When my back arches, it causes me to grind against him, and he moans against my nipple while I moan into nothing. The air grows thicker and the walls close in on us until there’s only Adam’s body and my body and the beads of sweat collecting on our skin.

  “Please,” I say again, and Adam swirls his warm tongue around my other nipple. Remnants of his kisses glisten on the one he just had his lips around, his teasing fingers rolling it between their slippery tips.

  When he refuses to give me what I want, I squeeze my hand between us and slide the heel of my palm over his boxers, all the way down his length before wrapping my eager fingers around him and slowly drawing them back up. Our bodies are pressed so tightly together that I end up torturing myself just as much as him, my nerves fire-­cracking under the firmness of my own touch.

  With one of my hands between us and my other threaded in his hair, Adam plays with my nipples, and I savor every flick of his tongue, pinch of his fingers, and nibble of his teeth. I’m whimpering with pleasure and begging his name when he reaches into his desk drawer and pulls out a condom. He tears the wrapper and takes off his boxers while I rush to wiggle out of my leggings and panties. A second later, he’s poised over top of me, his arms flexing at my sides while he positions himself between my legs.

  He’s seconds from taking my virginity, and he doesn’t even know it.

  A new tension takes root in me, and I’m about to suck my lip between my teeth when Adam sucks it between his instead. He eases forward, slowly stretching me to fit him, but I’m too tight and my nerves are only making me tighter.

  “Adam,” I pant, breaking my lips from his. This isn’t fair to him. God, I want him, but I need to tell him. He’s going to be my first, which means this will mean
something to me even if he doesn’t want it to.

  His hips immediately pull back and leave me empty, his face full of concern. “What’s wrong?”

  “I . . .” I cover my eyes with my hand, my face burning red with embarrassment. I have to tell him I’ve never been with anyone. There’s no way he’s not going to know.

  He gently covers my hand in his and pulls it away. “If you don’t want to do this, we don’t have to.”

  “It’s not that,” I say, squeezing my eyes closed because I can’t bear to look at him. “I’ve just never done this before.”

  Utter silence. I don’t even hear him breathe. When I open my eyes again, he’s just staring at me like he’s never seen me before. Like he doesn’t even know me. “You’re kidding . . .”

  “No,” I say, shaking my head in shame. I hate the way he’s looking at me. I never wanted him to look at me like that, like we’re strangers. Like I’m just another girl—­a naïve one with no experience who doesn’t belong in his bed.

  “But you lived with your ex . . .”

  I push up on the bed and frantically grab my shirt, pulling it back on while Adam stares at me. “We never did anything. I mean, we messed around . . . Not like we just messed around,” I gesture toward his hard, naked body but try to avert my eyes, “but yeah . . . no . . .” Oh God. I just need to stop talking. Please God let me stop talking.

  “You’re a virgin,” Adam says, like he can’t quite wrap his head around it.

  My bare feet hit the floor and I dive back into my leggings and panties, which are still bunched together. “Yeah, Adam, I’m a virgin.”

  “Where are you going?” he asks as I make for the door. He’s on the bed, on his knees, the erect length between his legs begging for me to lie back down beneath him. But with the way he just stared at me, I doubt he’d want me anyway. I’m not his Peach. I’m just some lukewarm little girl who’s way out of her league.

  “I have to go to the bathroom,” I say, and then I slip into the hallway and close Adam’s door behind me.

 

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