by Liza James
The subtle sound of a door creaks ahead of me, and my head snaps up to find Liv slowly sneaking out of her room. Damn it, she must have heard me come up the stairs and wants to catch up. I pause in front of my door, my hand on the knob as the figure stalks closer to me in the darkness.
"Liv," I whisper, narrowing my eyes to try and clear my vision in this lighting. Strangely, my heart rate kicks at the sparking energy surrounding Liv and at first I don't understand until her frame is towering over my own.
It isn't Liv.
Everything clicks into place just as his hand slams over my mouth and he presses me back against my door. My hand scrambles over the top of his, trying to pull it free while he dips his head next to my ear. "Quiet, Baby Bloom. We don't want to wake up the entire house, do we?" His free hand twists my door knob and pushes it open, stepping us inside while he quietly shuts it's behind us.
He releases my mouth but keeps the light off in my room, his hands gripping my waist as he guides me toward my bed.
"Carter, what the hell are you doing?" I stutter, confusion and intoxication dictate my every move. It's like his spirit speaks to mine, his force immediately finding my own and claiming it between us. I want to be closer, I want everything he has to offer but the ever-present enforcer of logic is the constant barrier. "Wait, you've been with Liv all night?" I ask, my mind suddenly putting together pieces of what's been potentially happening while I was with Benj.
It's late, it's dark. Liv's light was off when he snuck out of her room. Has he been here since the game? He left with Liv after our argument and I left with Benj.
He doesn't respond, and instead his thumb traces my bottom lip while his other hand slips into the back of my hair. "I don't want to be your fucking friend anymore," he bites out, irritation clear in his tone and power radiating off of his form.
"You're ignoring my question, so I'll ask you again. Did you sleep with Liv tonight?" My eyes seek out his in the darkness, and even in the obscurity I can see how dark they are. They're on fire with an intensity I can't even fathom. His heavy breaths and rising chest brush across mine.
Friction, heat, anger and desire. I can't take it.
"What if I did?" he asks, stepping us back again until my legs bump against the edge of my bed. My hands reach out and I cling to his shirt, feeling the muscle beneath the fabric, rippling and heaving with every shift he makes. I want to flatten my hands out, move them under his shirt and feel every dip and rise of his muscles. "Did Benj touch you?"
"If you slept with Liv, then—" I frantically try to decide what the best course of action is. If they slept together, if he took their relationship to the next level? Then this can never happen with us. Not now, not if they're seriously invested in each other like that. I can't do this to her. "—Then you need to leave, Carter."
"Did Benj touch you?" he demands to know and god, I'm so angry and frustrated now. I want to tell him yes. I want to tell him I slept with someone else, I gave my virginity to his best friend. But he doesn't even know that piece of me yet. And I hate the idea of lying to him about something like this. We've never lied to each other.
"Yes," I grind out, releasing myself to the blazing anger stirring in my stomach. "He did." Carter's fingers twist tightly through my hair as he yanks my head back and drops his lips to my neck. He bites down, sucking my skin into his mouth in a stinging mark that has me falling back on bed.
He climbs over top of me, ripping my hands up and above my head while he straddles my waist. I can tell he's pissed, every move he makes is deliberate and harsh.
Yet, there's something inside of me enjoying this, something finds pleasure in his anger when I think about the fact that it feels as if he betrayed me as well.
We aren't even together. None of this is any kind of betrayal, so why does it feel this way? Why am I hurt at him being with Liv and why do I want to remind him how I've been with Benj?
"He kissed me," I keep going, my hushed voice and angry soul taking over while my logical mind slips to the wayside. "His hands were on my waist, over my stomach."
Carter groans out in frustration, his hold tightening on my hands painfully as he rolls his thick and heavy cock between my legs. I'm soaked, wet and needy and wishing he would take me right now, right here.
"I want to fucking kill him," he bites out between clenched teeth. His lips land to mine and he devours me, sliding his tongue inside of my mouth while I taste him for myself. I roll my hips up and against him, feeling us grind and shift together in something so deliciously erotic. My own release is already twisting inside of me, begging and throbbing for more than this.
"Do you want to know if he fucked me, Carter?" I dare, biting down on his lower lip and pulling back for myself. "His hands were in my jeans, his fingers—"
He releases my wrists and slams his hand over my mouth, shutting me up while a sick smile spreads wide across his lips. "Yeah, you can stop there," he demands, and suddenly his other hand falls to the button and zipper on my jeans. He rips them open and grips them with his entire fist, yanking them down and off my legs so I'm laying below him in only my panties and sweater. "I don't want to know if he fucked you."
His fingers slip between my legs, where I'm wet and needy for his touch. My head immediately falls back and my eyes shut at the feel of him working over the thin layer of my G-string. He slips them to the side, so his finger can slide through my pussy and over my clit.
"I want to know if he made you feel like this," he starts, as he begins moving and touching my slick pussy. He thrusts his hips against me and his hand, so I can feel the head of his cock push against my core. He's wearing sweatpants, and they're thin enough to tempt me in ways I both love and absolutely fucking hate. "I want to know if you came when he touched you. Or if you were thinking about me when his lips were on yours."
He slides one finger inside of me and I gasp at the immediate stretch around him. He shifts another finger and pushes that one inside me as well, eliciting a moan I fully intended on holding back. But I can't with him, I have no fucking control over myself or my actions when he's around now.
How the hell did we get to this?
He uncovers my mouth, but presses his lips to my ear as he urges me to be quiet. I try, clutching onto his shoulders while he thrusts above me. "More," I whisper, and that's when he pushes a third finger inside me, sliding them out and shoving them back in over and over again. His thumb slips over my clit and my orgasm twists inside of me, eagerly searching for its release while I roll up and against his touch.
"Fuck," he groans as I drop my hand between us and drag it over his cock. I want to feel him, hell, I want to taste him on my tongue, in my mouth.
Suddenly, he pulls free of me and grips the edge of my sweater while yanking it up and over my head. He drops it to the floor and I reach out for his shirt, doing the same to him as he hovers above me.
My eyes fall down his body, and even in the darkness, I can see how unbelievably sexy he is. I've seen him without a shirt a million times over the years. I've even walked in on him changing. I've seen him sweaty after practice, and glistening after a shower.
But this is different. His chest heaves with each breath while he lifts his hand to grip my jaw. He forces me to watch him, my eyes lingering over his broad shoulders and wide chest while his other hand slides underneath the waistband of his sweatpants.
Oh, god.
My heart pounds in monstrous beats beneath my ribs. My head floods with anticipation, my pussy throbbing with the instinctual need to have him fill me. He pulls out his cock, shoving his pants down enough so he can stroke himself over me.
Up and down.
Up and down.
Up and down.
"Watch me," he demands when my eyes slip shut and my head tilts back. He yanks me forward by the grip on my jaw as he slides his fist up to the tip of his cock and brushes his thumb over the head. He's got a bead of precum slipping over his skin and he drags it across the length of him.
He
's fucking big. Thick and long, curved up just slightly in a way that has me wondering what he would feel like inside of me. As he'd slide in and out, how would I take it? Would it hurt? I almost hope so. A painfully satisfying stretch of myself around him.
I think I'm sick, this can't be how people usually fantasize about sex, right?
I keep watching him, but I have a sudden urge to lean forward and touch him. So, I do. I sit up on my elbows and reach forward so quickly he can't stop me. My eyes move to his face, and his eyes fall to my hand as I brush my thumb over the tip of his cock and slip through his cum myself.
Slowly. Intentionally. I slide over his head again and his hand begins stroking himself while I do it. "Does that feel good?" I ask, sweet innocence overtaking my tone as his eyes meet mine again.
"Yeah," he groans. I pull my hand back with his cum slicking my fingers and slip them up over my chest while watches me. "Oh shit."
I drag them up and over my lips, slipping them into my mouth so I can taste him on my skin. Inching closer to this invisible line, disregarding all consequences to our actions. I know this is wrong, I know I'll freak out about this as soon as we're finished. But right now, I can't see past the heavy cloud of desire and need surrounding us.
"Who taught you to do that?" he asks as he drops himself closer to me. I'm still up on my elbows, my fingers still in my mouth as I twist my tongue around them. He quickly yanks them out and his lips crash against my own in a new hunger that consumes us. It's as if I'm the only substance able to satiate him, and I know he's the only one to satisfy my own cravings.
"Porn," I reply honestly, an uncontrollable smile pulling at my lips as his cock pushes against my core. I open my legs wider for him, and part of me knows I should stop this. He doesn't know I'm a virgin and I should at least share that with him before we cross this line.
The sudden possibility this could actually happen is the subtle crack to our heated facade I need. I gasp and he shifts back, intentionally pulling himself away before I even have the chance to propose it myself.
"Not tonight," he whispers, and even though it's what I want as well, there's a sting of disappointment in my chest. "But I will make you come, Bloom."
In an instant, he leans back and flips me over on my stomach. He reaches for my legs and shifts them underneath me so I'm propped up on my knees. My bare ass and pussy on full display for him as he pulls my g-string down my legs and around my ankles.
"Carter," I hesitate, unsure of where he's headed and what he's intending. But his fingers immediately slide to my pussy again, slipping through my wetness and coating it over my ass as well. I moan out and arch my back at the same time, pushing against his touch while his fingers slide inside of me again.
"You're so wet, Bloom. So, fucking ready for me. I could take you right now, fill you up and stretch you open for me." Before I even know what's happening, I feel his tongue on my thigh. He's sliding it up, trailing it higher and higher until I can feel his hot breath blow across my wet skin. "You'd take all of me, wouldn't you? You'd like it. Fuck, you'd beg me for it."
"Yes," I reply, naturally arching even more and spreading my legs apart for me. "I want you to."
He laughs a dark sound as he presses his lips to my pussy. His tongue slides out and over my clit, sending a wave of goosebumps breaking out over my back and legs. "Not tonight, Bloom."
I moan into the pillow underneath me, forcing myself to stay quiet while the entire house sleeps. Liv is in the room next door, and while I'm not strong enough to stop this, I hope she can't hear anything happening between us.
I force those thoughts out of my mind though, and Carter's teeth graze over my clit before he sucks on me again. His tongue slides over my opening, pushing inside while he eats me. I've never experienced anything like this. Not in the ways he's doing it.
I'm fighting not to come too quickly because I don't want this to end. But the orgasm is working its way inside of me, coiling and twisting so tightly. When he slides two fingers inside of me and then drops his tongue to my clit at the same time, I can't help but finally snap.
I cry out, moaning his name while naturally pulling away from his touch while I come. But his hand is quick, and he forces me back against him while he continues fucking my pussy with his hand and mouth. "Carter, I can't," I quickly say, writhing beneath his touch while I fall apart. But he keeps going, and I'm shocked when a second orgasm almost immediately rolls through me again.
One right after the other.
And in the span of one night, I've came twice at the hands of one man when I've never come before with anyone else.
I didn't have sex with her.
Liv, I mean.
Well, I didn't have sex with Bloom either. I know I made it sound like I may have hooked up with our best friend while she was with Benj. I was fucking angry, and annoyed.
And jealous.
I've never been jealous or possessive over Bloom before. I wish I knew the exact moment everything changed, the instant our landslide was set into motion.
Have I always been attracted to her? Have I always felt this way about her?
Part of me thinks I have. But Bloom is so independent. She's entirely her own person, consumed by her art and her family and her studies. It's never been a question as to whether I'd lose her to someone else because I never saw her take a serious interest in anyone.
Until Benj.
That's when it became real—the thought of losing her. That's when I realized she's meant more to me than I fully grasped over these years.
And now that I've had her in the ways I have?
Now that I've tasted her—she's mine.
I was with Liv last night because I was ending things with her. I put a stop to the forward progression of our relationship. I didn't tell her I had feelings for Bloom though. I didn't think it was the right time to reveal that. So, I told her I needed to focus on football and the upcoming draft at the end of the year.
I stayed with her because I wanted to know when Bloom got back, and maybe that's fucked up of me but I couldn't help it. I was pissed at the game for what she said, but only because she has to know I would never view her or her family as any kind of baggage to my career.
Now, I'm sitting in our Color Theory class. At the back of the auditorium where Bloom and I usually sit together. My hoodie is pulled up over my head and I'm trying my hardest to stay awake in this fucking class.
I'm exhausted. I left shortly after Bloom finished, when she became quiet and unsure like she always does when it comes to us. I know she feels guilty over Liv, and I don't know how to fix it just yet. A part of me doesn’t want to tell her I didn’t sleep with Liv because I’m unsure if she slept with Benj.
I'm an asshole. I know.
But something scrapes against my skin and eats at my insides when I think about her giving her virginity to Benj. She couldn't have, and if she did, he would have never made her feel the way I have.
Our professor steps in front of the class and begins going over today's topics—Color Psychology. I glance behind me and toward the door, then my left, realizing Bloom hasn't arrived and is officially late.
She's never late.
I slide back in my seat and pull out my phone, quickly tapping out a text and shooting it off to her.
Carter: Where you at, Baby Bloom?
BB: Library. Liv needed me today.
Pause. Well, shit.
BB: Did you break up with her last night, Carter?
Carter: We weren't together to begin with.
Carter: Did you sleep with Benj?
No answer.
I swear to all fuck. I send a text to Benj next. One of them is going to tell me what happened.
Carter: Did you sleep with Bloom?
Benj: FFS dude.
Carter: Seriously.
Benj: I slept with one of your best friends, I'll let you guess who.
My heart hammers, sweat breaks out over my skin while I reread what he sent for the hundreth tim
e.
Carter: What the fuck is that supposed to mean?
How the hell am I supposed to sit through class now? My head races with every possible situation as to what's going on. When would Benj have slept with Liv? Which means it has to be Bloom. Last fucking night. Before I had her myself.
Anger wells in my stomach and rises up my chest. My fingers tap incessantly against the arm of my chair, my feet bouncing over the carpeted floor below me. I absently bite my inner cheek while I try to make sense of all of this, but it just doesn't click like it should.
Finally, I stand and walk out of the class, hoping Bloom has somehow procured the notes of what she's missed and I can work with her on this. That was the entire point of taking this class, after all—Bloom and I would be able to work together.
I hurry toward my Jeep and quickly drive to the other side of campus where the Library is located, parking and walking inside as I scan the room for one wild blonde girl and an unruly brunette.
My mind races through various emotions, trying to understand and find clarity in how I actually feel. I'm usually not this scattered, this jealous or possessive. I've been the relaxed one, doing what I want when I want to.
Now? Fuck. I'm a different person and I don't know what it means exactly. How did feelings for one fucking girl twist me up like this? I wasn't expecting it. But Bloom has flipped my world upside down in ways I've never experienced before.
All I know for sure is she's different than anyone I've ever been with. She forces me to look at this from another angle. I tend to be black and white in every situation, Bloom makes me see things from a different perspective. She reminds me that situations don't have to be one way or another—there can be a spectrum of options and possibilities.
Infinite potential.
She loves unconditionally, without judgment and standards. She's been through some of the hardest circumstances with her dad than I've seen anyone else experience. And yet her heart is still open to receiving compassion and love. She hasn't closed herself off to the beauty and darkness of the world.