Somethin' About That Boy

by Vale, Lani Lynn

  But when I texted her, she didn’t answer.

  And I was really, really wanting to know what her reply would’ve been.

  Grinning at the phone, I placed it down onto the bathroom counter, then went about getting ready for bed. I brushed my teeth, combed my hair, flossed, and stared at my phone.

  All the while, I wondered what it would take for her to answer me.

  Sadly, the bubbles never appeared, leaving me wondering what she was thinking, and imagining the very worst—or the best, depending on how you looked at it.

  After swiping on some deodorant, I made my way to my room and glanced at the unmade bed.

  I didn’t want to sleep there alone.

  In fact, the idea of being there without Perry was getting increasingly suckier the longer I imagined it.

  And then an idea bloomed.

  Biting my lip, I looked over at the tennis shoes that were right beside the dresser on the floor.

  I bit my lip, contemplating it for all of a few more seconds, then grabbed a long pair of socks, my tennis shoes, a t-shirt, and was walking out of my door and locking it behind me.

  I waved at one of my brother’s fellow SWAT members, Malachi, and went to my bike.

  At the last second, I changed my mind and went to my car instead. One of my dad’s buddies had dropped the car off this week, so I now had choices.

  It was just as fucking loud as the bike was, but at least if I parked that a couple of streets over, when Perry’s father left in the morning for work and passed it, he wouldn’t be automatically assuming that I stayed the night.

  I drove quickly through the darkened, deserted streets. Arriving at the street one over from Perry’s, I parked in the church parking lot, locked up the car, and headed at a brisk walk toward Perry’s house.

  When I arrived at her place, all of the lights were off.

  I bit my lip, then moved around to the side of the house where I knew Perry’s window was.

  Picking up a fallen acorn, I tossed it at her window.

  Nothing happened.

  I tossed another. And another. And another.

  Until finally her light flicked on, and she parted the curtains.

  I knew that she couldn’t see me from where she was standing, so I pulled out my phone and sent her a text.

  Banner: it’s me.

  She opened the window moments later, leaning half out of it as she said, “What the hell?”

  I grinned wickedly.

  “Back up, I want to come in,” I whispered.

  She did, and I took a running leap, catching the lip of the window and hauling myself up.

  She blinked at me and bit her lip as she backed away from the window, watching as I moved the rest of the way inside, before bouncing lightly on my feet on her carpeting.

  Her mouth gaped as she stared at me.

  “Wow,” she said. “That was… impressive.”

  I winked at her, turned, and closed the window quietly.

  Once the curtains were back in place, I turned to survey her.

  She was in a long t-shirt and nothing else.

  I instantly felt my dick get hard.

  Gesturing toward the bed, I said, “Did I wake you?”

  She shook her head. “No.”

  I walked over to her door, clicked the lock into place, then turned back to her before stripping off the sweatshirt I was wearing.

  Her breathing hitched.

  I ignored it—or tried to—and slipped off my shoes next.

  She watched me and didn’t move a muscle until I was sliding into her bed.

  It was a twin, meaning the moment that I laid down, my feet hung off the end.

  It didn’t matter, though.

  Not when she followed me, scrambling under the covers and reaching over to flick off her lamp.

  The moment that she was in the bed and not moving an inch, I grinned and then tugged her toward me.

  She stiffened at the contact but just as quickly relaxed.

  I didn’t call her on her message earlier.

  Instead I said, “Your dad’s going to kill me.”

  “My dad has a sleep apnea machine. He couldn’t hear a tornado coming, let alone a boy breaking into my room,” she teased. “And my mother sleeps right beside him, so she doesn’t hear anything, either.”

  “Need an alarm,” I murmured. “So people like me don’t sneak into his daughter’s bed.”

  She snickered and moved just a little bit closer. Not actually touching, but still far enough away that I didn’t like it.

  Moving myself, I rolled over until her knees pressed into my legs, and her shoulder was lightly pressing against my sternum. My face was only a few inches from hers, and I could feel her breath on my bare neck.

  Her breath hitched, and she turned over as well, once again not touching, but close enough that she could if she breathed in deeply enough.

  Everything inside of me ached to pull her in closer, but I didn’t want to push her too hard too fast.

  I relaxed into her pillows, bringing the one I was using up to rest underneath my head but between my arm and the bed.

  “You never told me why you were here,” she breathed.

  I licked my lips, wishing that I could kiss her and not scare her off.

  I wasn’t a virgin.

  I’d like to say I was—which I assumed Perry was—but I’d been a horny teenage boy for years now. Needless to say, when the opportunity had presented itself, I’d taken it.

  But now, I wanted to do this right. I wanted Perry to want me. I didn’t want to push her.

  And I had a feeling that Perry was different. That this thing that I was feeling for Perry was way different than anything that I’d ever felt before in my life.

  Something like what my parents had. What my sister and brother had.

  She exhaled again, this time moving infinitesimally closer to me as she readjusted her own pillow.

  I grinned when I felt her hand brush against my chest.

  She didn’t move it away, nor did I.

  And, over the next five minutes, with no talking on either one of our parts, she moved closer and closer until we were touching from shoulder to feet.

  Finally, when I felt that she could get no closer, I wrapped my arm around her waist and turned so that I was on my back and she was laying against my side.

  She inhaled against my shoulder, her lips pressing against an old football injury scar there, and stayed still while I repositioned us.

  When we came to a stop, she was practically laying half on top of me, my leg crooked up and to the side between hers. Her hand was on my belly, right above my belly button. And her head was resting on my chest, right under my chin.

  Her hand moved up to rest just above my ribcage, right under my pec.

  And she seemed to melt into me.

  “You’re warm,” she murmured. “I won’t even need a blanket.”

  That was good, because I was already hot.

  I didn’t normally sleep in clothes of any kind, let alone hot as fuck sweatpants.

  Something I told her seconds later.

  “If you covered me with a blanket, we’d both wake up sweating. I’m very hot-natured,” I explained.

  Chapter 15

  I’m drinking my favorite drink tonight. It’s called a shit load.

  -Perry to Banner

  Perry

  I couldn’t believe he was here.

  In my bed.

  Seriously, I’d sent that text earlier thinking that I’d have all night to think of something to say to him in the morning.

  Yet, here he was, in my bed, wearing clothes.

  And he was hot.

  I could already feel the sweat gathering on my skin, and since my bed was so small—a freakin’ twin—there was nowhere for me to go but practically on top of him.

  “I think,” I hesitated. “You should lose the sweatpants.”


  He paused for so long that I thought that maybe he’d gone to sleep, but then he moved.

  I reluctantly moved off of him, sitting partially hanging off the bed, and listened in the darkness.

  The slide of fabric sliding against skin, followed by him falling back on the bed and jerking what I decided had to be his sweatpants down, went next.

  I licked my lips and hesitantly went back to my earlier position.

  “Do you normally wear clothes like this to bed?” he asked curiously.

  No.

  But I’d put clothes on when I’d realized that he was coming in my window.

  “I usually wear just a t-shirt and panties to bed,” I admitted.

  I’d put the most uncomfortable bra in the world on when I’d realized that he was here.

  It’d been the first one that I grabbed the moment that my hand went into the drawer. The moment that I snapped it into place, I knew that I was going to be fidgeting the entire night.

  “Then take them off,” he urged. “I’ll be a good boy.”

  I didn’t want him to be, though.

  I’d been thinking about him non-stop from the moment that I’d met him, and it was getting to the point where I couldn’t even sit next to him without thinking about those kinds of things.

  I was a virgin.

  Sure, I’d kissed a few boys, but everything else had been completely platonic.

  Which was why a lot of the football team didn’t like me all that much. I didn’t put out, and never would.

  Not until I met Banner Spurlock, that was.

  Hesitantly, I got up off the bed, knowing that if I didn’t, I’d fall right on my ass with the narrow space that Banner’s big body didn’t take up.

  Since it was dark, I went ahead and shed my t-shirt just so I could get my bra off easier.

  When it was off, I tossed it to the floor and searched for my t-shirt again.

  “Here,” Banner’s deep, smooth voice said from the blackness.

  I reached for it, but what I ended up doing was going too far and grazing my unbound breasts across Banner’s arm.

  He hissed but didn’t pull back.

  Face flaming, I took the shirt from his hand and shrugged it on, likely inside out and backward if my luck held true.

  Licking my lips, I slowly crawled back into bed.

  Banner moved then, twisting so that he was laying sideways, and giving me a bit more room.

  I smiled into the inky blackness and wished that there was enough light that I could see him.

  My heart was racing, and there were so many butterflies in my belly right then that I could barely stand it.

  But I still went into his arms and curled myself against his broad chest.

  “You fit perfectly in my arms,” he said.

  I did.

  But he was just that freakin’ big. Anything would fit perfectly in his arms. Not that I would tell him that. I wanted him to think that I was made for him. It wouldn’t do if he thought anybody would fit.

  I snuggled in deeper, placing my head right underneath his chin.

  His hand moved up and down the length of my back, his fingers playing with my hair as he did.

  “Your hair’s softer than I thought it’d be,” he murmured.

  The deep rumble of his chest was doing weird things to me.

  It was exciting me and turning me on all at once.

  Then again, I was half naked in Banner Spurlock’s arms, the hottest guy in school. It was kind of hard not to be turned on by just that alone.

  “I leave conditioner in it. It keeps it soft,” I admitted quietly.

  He murmured something incoherent against my head and moved his hand lower until he was just brushing his fingers over the swell of my ass.

  I squirmed lightly against him, which caused me to move closer to him.

  He hissed in a breath when my leg brushed against his hard cock.

  I licked my lips and said, “Sorry.”

  “S’okay,” he murmured. “Kind of hard not to feel it.”

  I snickered.

  The bed was small. He was big. And I was practically on top of him.

  I moved my hands until they were resting against his chest, then moved them down just a little bit more so that I could rest them more comfortably on his belly.

  Except, that wasn’t very comfortable either, and my arm was sort of going numb where it was pressed up against him near the bed.

  He laughed when I moved my hands again, quietly chuckling against my hair, then moved us all over again until I was flipped onto my other side and facing away from him.

  My unbound breasts squished together, and he crowded me close until he was pressed up against me fully.

  “Better?” he asked.

  I swallowed hard, wiggled some more, and inadvertently brushed my ass against his penis again.

  His very hard, very erect, very right there penis.

  Except, this time I didn’t move.

  I didn’t breathe, either.

  He drew in a shaky breath and settled it more firmly against me, then stayed deathly still.

  I tried not to move.

  Really, I tried.

  But I couldn’t help it.

  I had to move.

  There was just some compulsion inside of me that had me pushing back against him just to make sure it was still there.

  Let me tell you something, it most assuredly was.

  Right. There.

  His hard cock pushed against the thin layer of my panties, and I moaned.

  I couldn’t help it.

  “You should be very, very sure right now,” he said against my throat, dropping his mouth down to run along the length of my throat.

  I licked my lips, then did the only thing I could do.

  I reached up and grabbed one of his hands that was very casually resting right underneath my breasts, moved it down, and pushed it back up underneath my shirt until it was resting on my bare breasts.

  It was a bold move.

  One that had him stiffening even further behind me.

  His hand closed over my breast, and I was kind of dismayed to find out that not only was his hand big enough to fit my entire breast in it—I really thought they were quite large—but he didn’t move said hand after he did.

  “Please be sure,” he murmured. “I don’t…”

  I was sure.

  More than sure.

  I sent that text message earlier to him hoping that it would drive him wild, and now that he was here…

  “I’m sure,” I told him, taking his other hand and pushing it down to rest against my mound. “Touch me.”

  His hand closed over my mound next, his fingers pressing hard between my thighs, exactly where it ached the most.

  I wasn’t sure if I wanted to push back against his cock, or down against his hand, and it was an interesting dilemma that had me doing both.

  I alternated between the two places, rocking my hips back and forth in reaction.

  “You feel so good,” he murmured, his thumb and pointer finger closing on my erect nipple and pinching it lightly.

  I gasped, a moan slipping free of my lips, and he paused all motion.

  “I seriously don’t want to wake your parents up,” he growled against my ear. “If you can’t be quiet, we’ll have to stop.”

  I snapped my teeth shut so fast that my teeth clicked together.

  He chuckled lightly against my ear, then licked my neck from collarbone to the shell of my ear.

  “I’ve wanted to taste you for forever,” he murmured. “Tilt your head to the side so I can kiss you.”

  I did, presenting him with my mouth, and groaning when he took it like he owned it.

  “Sweet baby Jesus,” I whispered shakily when he pulled away. “I need something more.”

  I didn’t know how to explain it, but I seriously felt empty and tight and tingly all over.

 
He moved his hand without comment, sliding it up the length of my flat belly until he caught his fingers on the waistband of my panties, then slowly slipped it back down inside.

  I gasped and placed my hand over his where it was tenting up the front of my panties and caused him to pause.

  “No, don’t stop,” I urged, pushing him further.

  He breathed out shakily against my neck, his mouth skimming the expanse of my throat as his middle finger parted my lips.

  I bit my lip to keep from crying out and pushed myself back against him to urge him on.

  He ground his cock into my ass and slowly swirled his finger through the wetness that was gathered at my entrance before drawing it up to my clit and swirling it around. He didn’t actually touch the bundle of nerves, but stayed just on the outside rim of it, slowly circling.

  It drove me absolutely mad, and by the time he actually got around to touching it, I exploded.

  I wasn’t sure what it was.

  The excitement of what we were doing, being touched for the first time, or the carnality of the act, whatever it was, all those things combined to knock me straight into next week.

  I gasped, turning my head to bury it in the bicep that was curled around my neck, and bit down lightly.

  Or hard.

  I wasn’t even sure at that point.

  All I knew was that I was feeling things that I’d never felt before in my life.

  I’d gotten myself off before.

  I wasn’t completely dumb.

  I knew what it would feel like—or, at least, I thought I had.

  But the orgasm that I gave myself, and the orgasm that Banner gave me, were two completely different things.

  It was like comparing little league to the major leagues.

  Professional football, to pee-wee football.

  “What are you thinking about?” he asked, his finger stopping the swirl on my clit to focus on swirling it once again around my entrance.

  I licked my lips and thought about whether I should answer him truthfully.

  “Umm,” I hesitated. “I was thinking about how different the orgasms I give myself and the one that you just gave me are.”

  He growled. “You touch yourself?”

  I felt my face heat as my hips lifted on their own volition, chasing his finger that wouldn’t quite push through my entrance.

  “Yes.” I paused. “More so lately since I met you.”