Another slow, gentle thrust, and I’m fully inside of her body. Her belly rises and falls with her deep breaths, brushing against me. I have to be hurting her.
And that fucking kills me.
“Are you okay?” I whisper, curling my arm around the top of her head, my fingers in her hair.
She nods, pressing her lips together. Her eyes open as she breathes out, and I swear to God that sends me even deeper, making me moan.
“Does it hurt?” I ask, not wanting to move yet. She’s so hot. Tight. Gripping me like a goddamned vise.
“Stings a little,” she says, shifting beneath me.
I kiss her. Lick at her mouth. Suck on her lower lip as I very slowly start to move. Pulling myself almost all the way out, before I push back in, keeping it nice and slow. Jesus, that feels good.
So damn good.
She moans with every slow thrust, lost in the sensation of my body inside hers. I stay at the same pace, languid. Lazy. Thrusting in and out of her, noting how her body relaxes, making it easier.
Soon I’m moving faster, my orgasm looming, but I remind myself to take my time. I need to make this good for her.
I want to make her come again.
Rising up, I reach between us, my fingers finding her clit, brushing against it. She hisses in a breath, her body moving beneath mine so I don’t have to do anything at all. She’s riding my dick, sliding up and down, my fingers toying with her clit, making her increase her pace. Panting, whimpering breaths leave her again and again as I press and twist, fingers circling. Her tits bounce with every movement and I watch, fascinated, afraid I’m going to blow before she does and she suddenly arches her back, her tits thrust into the air, her head hanging back as a choked cry falls from her lips.
And then she’s coming, her inner walls squeezing around my cock again and again, milking me. Sending me headlong into my orgasm within seconds after hers ends. I still above her, my entire body shaking, her name falling from my lips before I collapse on top of her, jolts of sensation skimming all over my body over and over.
Again and again.
Fuck me.
I don’t think I’ve ever come so hard in my life.
She runs her hands up and down my back, soothing me as the shaking slowly subsides. I cling to her, my mouth at her temple, her warm, pliant body shifting beneath mine and I realize I have to be crushing her. I start to move away, but she tightens her arms around me, not letting me leave.
“Don’t go,” she whispers. “Not yet.”
I remain where I am, directly on top of her, my cock softening, trying to keep most of my weight from crushing her into the mattress. Those hands of hers are wandering everywhere, making gooseflesh rise.
Making other things start to rise too.
I can’t go there yet. Her body is probably too sore for a repeat performance. She was a virgin for God’s sake.
A virgin.
I’m Ellie’s first. And you never forget your first.
The enormity of that weighs on me, making me realize how serious this moment is for her. She’s been hung up on me for a while. For years. And while I’ve cared about her too, I’d never let myself go there. Too worried I’d fuck it up—fuck her up—and make her hate me forever. Our friendship was too valuable to me.
But look at me now. Wrapped all around her after having the best sexual experience of my life. With my best friend.
“I’ll be right back,” I tell her, kissing her forehead before I withdraw from her body and make my way over to the connected bathroom. I dispose of the condom in the trash, take a piss, and wash my hands before I make my way back to my bed. Ellie’s slipped under the comforter, her hair a mess, her eyes big as she watches me return.
I stop at the end of the bed, resting my hands on my hips, studying her in return. “You look freaked out.”
“I’m not used to you walking around naked.” She averts her gaze for a moment, waving a hand in my direction.
“You don’t like it?”
She turns towards me once more, a faint smile curling her lips. “I, uh, I love it. It’ll just take some getting used to.”
I go to the other side of the bed and crawl under the covers, slipping my arms around her from behind and hauling her body in close. She’s warm and fragrant and soft. So soft. I drop a kiss on her shoulder. Another one. Yet another one, my lips traveling, finding her neck. She arches her head back, giving me better access, and I kiss and lick her there, unable to stop.
It’s like I can’t get enough of her.
“Are you sore?” I murmur against her cheek.
She shakes her head, her hair rustling against the pillow. “No.”
“Full of regret?” I kiss her earlobe. Bite it.
“Absolutely not,” she says without hesitation. There’s a pause. “Do you regret it?”
Her voice is so small. And her body is tense, as if she’s bracing herself for me to say something shitty.
“The only thing I regret,” I start, using my hand to turn her face more towards mine, “is that we didn’t do this sooner.”
The relieved smile is a sight to see. I kiss her, making it disappear. I can’t stop kissing her. My cock stirs to life, eager to get back at it, and I’m afraid he’s going to be disappointed when nothing else happens.
Ellie reaches for me, her fingers clasping my dick firmly, giving me a stroke that makes me groan. “Again?” she asks, sounding amused. “Already?”
“You’re probably tired,” I say. “Sore. It’s okay—”
“I’m fine,” she interrupts. “I’m up for anything.”
“Really?” My hands wander, finding her breasts. I tease her already hard nipples with my fingers, feeling her melt against me. “I don’t want to push.”
“I don’t want you to stop,” she admits, a soft sigh falling from her lips when I pinch her nipple. “Don’t ever, ever stop.”
“Okay,” I whisper. “I won’t.”
True to my word, we don’t stop.
Not for the rest of the night.
Twenty-Eight
Ellie
I wake up in a room that’s not mine, with strong arms wrapped around me, holding me close to a very hot, very hard body. There’s also something very hot and very hard poking insistently against my backside.
Hmm. Pretty sure I was awoken by Jackson Rivers’ erection. What a way to start the morning.
The man is insatiable.
But then again, so am I.
Smiling, I slowly grind my butt against him, his erection trapped between us. He groans. In his sleep? I’m not sure. I keep my eyes closed, savoring the feeling of being in his arms. Naked. In his bed. With him completely surrounding me. Holding me close. Snuggled up behind me, spooning me. It’s downright romantic.
I knew Jackson was a romantic soul. It shows in the songs he writes, and sometimes in the way he acts. He’s actually very sweet. Oblivious sometimes, but I can forgive that.
Now that I’m in his bed, I can forgive him for pretty much everything he’s ever done to me. All the years of torture and ignoring me. The denial. Oh, he was in such strong denial.
He’s mine now. And I’m his. It’s going to work out between us.
I just know it.
I wriggle against him again, just because I can, and his arms tighten around me, trying to keep me still.
“Don’t you have class?” he growls against my ear, trying to sound grumpy, but I can’t help but find that growl extremely sexy.
I laugh. I can’t keep it in. I’m too happy. “Yes.”
“Won’t you be late?”
“I’m skipping today,” I admit, stroking his forearms. They’re strong. A little hairy. I think of all the girls screaming for him last night. A few of them said some pretty vulgar things. What they wanted to do to him. What they wanted him to do to them.
Look at me now. I’m the one who’s in his bed this morning. And we did all sorts of vulgar things throughout the night.
These giddy fee
lings, just how perfect this moment is, could go straight to a girl’s head.
“You’re going to skip class?” He sounds shocked. “Damn, I didn’t know you had it in you.”
“Well, I had something—or someone—in me all night long, and now I never want to leave this spot,” I confess with a smile.
He slowly thrusts against me. He’s relentless. “You’re a dirty girl, Ellie.”
“You should know,” I say lightly. “You’re the one who corrupted me.”
“Best thing I’ve ever done, for sure.” He squeezes me tight. “I think I’ll skip class today too.”
“We should,” I agree. “We can skip together. Hang out all day. Go to breakfast. I never go out for breakfast. Should we do that? Oh my God, I’m so hungry. Though it’s a little late. It’s close to ten already, huh? We could have brunch. Do they call it brunch on Friday?”
“Yes.” He kisses me, silencing my rambling words. I don’t know why I just did that. Maybe I’m afraid he’ll turn me down? That he’ll have something better to do than hang out with me? “They call it brunch any day of the week. And we should definitely go to brunch. I need to shower first though.”
“I should shower too,” I say, closing my eyes when he nuzzles my neck. He’s so snuggly and warm. Do we have to get out of this bed? I’d rather stay here all day, in our own little bubble, keeping reality where it belongs.
Out of our lives. At least for a little while longer.
“Let’s conserve water and shower together,” he suggests, his lips tickling my skin.
“You want to take a shower with me?” I squeak, sounding dumb.
“I want to do everything with you,” he admits, just before he turns me over and kisses me senseless.
We end up at a restaurant not too far from campus, a quaint little breakfast place that is mostly empty, thanks to the late hour. We sit outside on the patio, the breeze ruffling Jackson’s dark blond hair, making a mess of it. Making him look adorable and sexy and all I can think about is the fact that I have now had sex with him.
I’ve had sex. With Jackson Rivers. Something I never thought would happen.
I also can’t stop staring at him as we sit at the table, my menu open, though I’m not looking at it. I’m so hungry I could probably eat the actual menu, but I can’t concentrate on what I want to order. All I can do is stare at this boy sitting across from me, who’s completely rocked my world in the best possible way. How did I get so lucky?
I have it so bad for him. He could take advantage of that too, if he wanted to. I need to remember that. Jackson is capable of that sort of thing. He takes without thinking. He’s done it to me before, and I gladly let him do it, like a complete idiot. I need to remember to stand up for myself more. Hayden and Gracie taught me that. So did Ava. Jackson might not like it, but too bad.
Hmm. Maybe we’re not out of the woods yet.
Ugh, I hate feeling doubtful. It’s the worst.
“What are you getting?” he asks.
I snap out of my Jackson-induced daze and concentrate on the menu once more. “I’m not sure. Bacon and eggs?”
“I thought you liked sweet stuff. Pancakes. Waffles,” he says.
That he noticed shouldn’t thrill me so much, but it does. It means he pays attention to me. “You’re right.” I close the menu, my gaze meeting his. “I’m having French toast.”
He smiles. “Will you share?”
I slowly shake my head, teasing him. “Nope.”
Jackson mock pouts. “Come on. So selfish.”
“Says the king of selfish,” I tease back.
His mock pout disappears, hurt filling his gaze. “You’re right. I am the king of selfish. Always taking advantage of you.”
“I didn’t mean it like that—”
“Yeah,” he cuts me off. “You did. And it’s cool. I get it. I’ve been oblivious to you for so long. Taking advantage of your friendship. Of you always being there. I counted on you, when you couldn’t always count on me.”
I didn’t want to start such a serious conversation between us the morning after we had sex for the first time, but here we go. “It’s partially my fault too.”
He literally scoffs. “That I took advantage of you? How?”
“I shouldn’t have been such a doormat,” I say with a shrug. “I was weak when it came to you.”
“You’re my weakness now. You always have been,” he says, his voice low.
My heart leaps at his admission. Is he for real? The sincerity in his gaze, on his face, tells me, yes. “I kept waiting and waiting, hoping you’d notice.”
“I noticed,” he says immediately. “I just—I was in denial.”
“Okay, then I was hoping you’d finally realize,” I amend.
His smile is slow. Sexy. “I did. Finally.”
“Yes.” My answering smile is slow as well. “You did.”
The server appears at our table with the vanilla lattes we ordered when we first arrived, and Jackson orders for himself and for me, taking charge. I sit back and watch him, yet again unable to tear my gaze away. I think about what we did earlier, when we took a shower together. We lathered each other up, soapy bubbles everywhere, making our skin slick. Fingers seeking and finding all of our secret places, where we like to be touched the most. Mouths locked, kissing hungrily, as if we couldn’t get enough of each other. We didn’t have actual sex, but we got each other off, and it was…fun.
Lots and lots of fun.
“What are you thinking about?” he says after the server leaves.
“The shower.” I grin, my cheeks growing warm.
“It was all right,” he says nonchalantly with a shrug, barely holding back a smile. Now he’s the one teasing.
“You were the one shouting my name earlier, so I’m guessing it was more than all right for you,” I return.
“Got me there,” he says, stroking his jaw, looking thoughtful. “Heard from any of our friends this morning?”
I shake my head, trying to take a sip of my drink, but it’s still piping hot so I set it back down. “Have you?”
“Caleb texted me. Wanted to know if we’re going to the frat party tonight,” he answers.
“Are we?”
“Do you want to?” he asks.
“Probably. Ava wants to go, and I want to spend as much time with her as possible before she leaves,” I say, pausing for a moment before I continue. “And did Caleb really ask if we were going?”
“Yes, he did.” Jackson thrusts his phone out toward me, the text exchange with Caleb pulled up. I squint as I read it, seeing that, yep, Caleb asked exactly that.
Caleb: You and Ellie coming to the party tonight? Or will you two still be too busy coming in your room?
I roll my eyes and laugh when I read the text. “He’s so crude.”
“I mean, I’d rather do the latter, but if you want to go to the party, we can,” he says. “I know you want to hang out with Ava, though Eli is going to monopolize as much of her as he possibly can. He’s so glad she’s here.”
“I know he is. They’ve missed each other. She complains to me all the time how much she hates being down there when we’re all here,” I say.
“They’ll make it work,” he says firmly, and I love that he believes in them as much as I do. “And the party tonight should be fun. I haven’t been to one since last year.”
“Are you still active with the frat?” He joined his freshman year but hasn’t really mentioned anything about it at all lately.
“Didn’t I tell you? I dropped out,” he says. “I had too much going on. They want you fully committed, and I just couldn’t manage it.”
“You do have a lot on your plate,” I murmur, just before I sit up straight. “Oh! You never told me what happened with the guy from Evergreen last night!”
The look on Jackson’s face tells me what I’d assumed yesterday. He doesn’t have good news. “They liked Cupid’s Bow better.”
My mouth drops open. “What?”
<
br /> He nods. “They set up a meeting with those guys for next week. The lead singer texted me earlier, thanking me for asking them to open for me. And that’s what sucks the worst—I did this to myself.”
My heart breaks at seeing the miserable expression on his face. He’s never really cared about the record deal offers before, but I’m guessing this is the one he’d finally set his hopes on. “I’m so sorry, Jackson.”
“It’s okay.” He waves a hand, smiling faintly, but it seems forced. “They liked my song, though. Pink.”
“They did?” I smile, thinking of it. How he wrote it for me.
“Yeah. That Rick guy was really laying it on thick last night. Gushing over me. They all were. He had a team with him. But they never asked to set up a meeting, so I figured they weren’t interested,” he says. “Guess they’ll sign Cupid’s Bow instead.”
“They might still be interested in you,” I suggest, not wanting him to give up yet. “You never know.”
“I know,” he says firmly. “I can tell. And it’s okay. I’m still not ready to do this, I don’t think. Especially now.”
“Why especially now?” I ask with a frown.
“Because I’ve got you.” He reaches across the table, settling his hand on top of mine. “If I were to make a record, I’d probably have to leave the football team. Eventually even drop out of school. Record. Tour. Make publicity rounds. Appearances. Whatever. It would take up all my time. I’d never see you.”
I frown. It’s his secret dream, becoming a recording artist. A rock star. Playing music for a living. He’s told me that more than once. I don’t want to be the one who crushes his dreams. “We could make it work.”
“Could we, Ellie?” His tone is serious as he links his fingers with mine. “We’re finally really together, and you’d be perfectly okay with me leaving for months at a time? While you’re here at school? We’d be living separate lives.”
No. I wouldn’t be okay with any of that, but I’d figure out a way to deal with it. “I don’t want to be the reason you give up.”
The Sophomore Page 25