Always You

by Jerica MacMillan

  He laughed. “Of course. Here, let me take it for you.”

  She unbuttoned her gray pea coat and let him slide it down her arms. He placed it over the back of the recliner before moving back to her and taking her hands in his. “Last night I invited you over for dinner. Can you do that tonight? Or do you have too much homework again?”

  She smiled, a full smile this time. “I brought my books with me just in case. I can stay for dinner. What did you have in mind?”

  The smile he returned was radiant. He hadn’t looked this happy any time she’d seen him recently. It was fun to be able to cause someone so much pleasure with such a simple action as joining them for dinner.

  “Chinese? Or would you rather have pizza?”

  Chapter Eleven

  Matt went to the kitchen and called his favorite Chinese place while Hannah got her things from her car. He heard the front door open and close just before he hung up and came out to the living room again. Hannah had a red backpack slung over one shoulder, her thumb hooked in the strap, her cheeks pink from being in the cold. She still looked nervous and uncertain, but he liked having her in his house. He never would’ve imagined this scenario in a million years.

  She tugged on the strap. “I brought clothes. Is there somewhere I can change?”

  Matt swallowed, all the saliva in his mouth gone at the thought of her stripping right here. Or him helping her out of her clothes. But that wasn’t what she asked. She barely let him touch her right now. Dinner first. Maybe he could see about getting her clothes off altogether later.

  Clearing his throat, he stuffed his hands in his pockets again to hide his growing cock. “Sure. Yeah.” He nodded toward his room. “You can change in my room.”

  He led the way, turning on the light, snagging a T-shirt and pair of boxers off the floor, and tossing them in the hamper in the corner. “Here you go.”

  She slipped past him, looking around his room. He looked at it too, seeing the familiar surroundings with new eyes—a queen bed on a basic frame, the gray sheets and black comforter thrown back, a dresser and side table that held the detritus of his life—papers and mail, spare change, keys. A closet took up one wall, the door hanging open, a window opposite, the only decorations in the room the sketches Megan had drawn of him last semester.

  Soon he’d have to stop thinking of his life in terms of semesters. Now he worked. No more semesters dividing time into neat blocks for him. It was all just one long slog from here on out, one month running into the next, maybe a vacation once a year to break it up. That thought depressed him more than he’d like to admit.

  Hannah stepped up to one of the sketches on the wall over his dresser. “This is really good.”

  “Megan did those for a class last semester. She decided I needed a couple of them.”

  Her eyes drifted to him, looking him over before going back to the sketch. He remembered Megan drawing that one, sitting on the floor while he played Call of Duty. She’d captured the explosion on the screen, and the way his body lifted off the couch, his fist in the air in triumph.

  “She’s really good. I guess agreeing to model for her won’t be that bad if this is what the results look like.” Hannah turned her head toward him again. “Will she have us pose together do you think? Or do you know?”

  Matt shook his head. “I don’t know. She hasn’t told me what the plan is. Chris might know. If you’re still here when they get back, you can ask her.” He noticed that Hannah’s cheeks turned a little pink when he brought up his roommates. She must be thinking about Chris and Megan barging in on them Friday night. He couldn’t stop the smirk from tugging at his lips. When he thought about what they’d been doing, his blood rushed too, but not to his cheeks.

  Hannah nodded. “Okay.” She stared at him, an expectant look on her face. After a moment, she dropped her eyes. “Um, I’d like to change now.”

  He gave himself a mental shake. Stop ogling the girl in your room and get out of her way, jackass. But his smirk turned into a grin. “You want me to leave then?”

  She narrowed her eyes at him. “Yes. Now.”

  With a chuckle, he backed out of the room and pulled the door closed behind him. He stopped in the doorway to the kitchen, banging his head lightly against the wall. Why had he just stood there like a moron? Smooth, Matt. She was skittish. She wouldn’t just pick up where they left off, even if he’d like to. He had better game than this. What the hell was his problem?

  He made his way to the couch and dropped onto it, his head resting against the back while he waited for Hannah to change clothes. Imagining her naked in his bedroom didn’t help at all. Reaching a hand down, he adjusted the semi he sported. God, he thought he might actually die if he couldn’t get his hands on her soon.

  The door to his bedroom opened, and Hannah came into the living room. Sitting up, he watched her stash her backpack next to the coffee table, standing there with her arms crossed over a pink long sleeved T-shirt paired with skinny jeans that fit her like a second skin. She tucked her hair behind one ear, a tight smile on her lips.

  Matt sat back and patted the cushion next to him before putting his arm along the back of the couch. “C’mere. We’ll see what’s on TV while we wait for food if that’s okay.”

  Hannah nodded, bending down again to get a book out of her bag. The low scoop neck of her shirt opened, allowing him a view of her breasts nestled in a tan bra. He sucked in a breath. All the memories of worshiping those perfect tits, all the things he’d like to do to them colliding in his brain at once. She looked up, confusion stamped on her face until she realized where he was looking. Her cheeks pinked again, the shade almost matching her shirt, and she stood up quickly, clutching her textbook to her chest.

  He gave her what he hoped was a disarming grin. “It’s okay, Hannah. Come sit down. I won’t bite.” He waited for her to settle in next to him before leaning over and whispering, “Unless you want me to.”

  Her lips parted, and her breath hitched. He sat back, his grin turning smug. She might blush and act nervous, but he affected her just as much as he used to. And now he knew it for sure. She wanted him, maybe as much as he wanted her. He just needed to get her comfortable enough with him again to act on it. Too bad she was so gun-shy. The girl he remembered had been responsive and uninhibited. He’d been surprised that she’d managed to hang onto her V-card as long as she had with the way she’d been with him.

  Maybe it had just been the deadline on their time together that made it possible for her to let go like that. They’d had a vacation romance, with only a handful of weeks together. God, they’d been lucky to get that long. He didn’t know anyone else whose family went away for weeks at a time like her friend’s family did that summer. But he’d had her naked and in his bed just a few days after they’d met, and she’d given him her virginity by the end of the first week. From her reactions now, the timeline seemed like it would be much longer. He stifled a groan at the thought of how many more weeks he’d have to get relief from his own hand.

  “Matt?”

  He turned to find Hannah’s questioning eyes on him. “Yeah?”

  “Are we going to watch something? Or are you going to just sit there and scowl at the blank TV for a while longer?” She held up her book. “It’s okay with me either way. I have reading to do, and the scowling’s quieter, so that’s fine. But you said you wanted to watch something, so I was just curious.” Amusement lit up her eyes, her dry humor coming out.

  He gave her a mock scowl, his arm coming off the back of the couch and squeezing her to his side. Her breath hitched again, and he let his smug smile take over his face again. “I’m trying to decide if I want TV or a movie.” God, he’d love to watch a movie with her again, especially if they did it the same way as before, where “movie” meant fooling around in his bed. They watched a lot of “movies” that summer.

  “A movie, huh?” She shook her head, her low chuckle letting him know she remembered their movie watching too. “You’re on you
r own whatever you decide.” She held up her book and adjusted to get more comfortable, her back against his chest and his arm now across her shoulders, her knees bent and feet up on the couch with her book propped against her legs. Her head tilted back so she could make eye contact. “I have to get through a couple of chapters before class tomorrow. I’ll stop when the food comes.”

  He dropped a kiss on her head. “Alright. TV it is. It’s only reruns on right now anyway.” He settled on a channel playing endless reruns of Big Bang Theory.

  The doorbell sounded a little while later, and Hannah sat up, putting her book away. Matt missed the feeling of her against him, her warmth and weight comforting, but got up to answer the door, pulling his wallet out of his pocket to pay for their food. He spread out the food on the coffee table, fried rice to share, a stir fry for him—a concession to trying to keep up with the healthy eating edict since he was helping Chris train—beef teriyaki for Hannah. He got plates and glasses of water for them from the kitchen, catching Hannah popping a vegetable from his stir fry into her mouth when he came back in. She grinned at him, unrepentant.

  He shot her a mock glare. “Careful. You might have to pay for that later.”

  “Oh?” Her cheeky grin grew wider. “And how would I do that?”

  He leaned down, catching her mouth in a kiss, his teeth sinking into her lower lip until she gasped, tasting the spices and sauce that lingered there. “Keep stealing my food, and you’ll find out.” He made sure his voice came out as a growl next to her ear, and he loved the way her breath hitched once again, pink staining her neck and chest where it showed above her shirt. When he pulled back, she stared at him, green eyes wide and dark, her lips parted. He grinned at her, and she dropped her eyes, clearing her throat and shifting in her seat, reaching forward to dish out some food.

  Matt almost moaned when he dug into his own food. Chris had become a tyrant about diet now that he was going to the NFL Combines. Matt had never seen his friend train harder, pushing himself to be faster, better, stronger than ever. He was in peak condition, and Matt felt like a slob next to him, so he did his best to keep up. It was hard, though, working full time and trying to fit in workouts and drills with his friend. He couldn’t do it as much as he’d like, and he felt like they were drifting apart more and more. Between his job, Chris’s rigorous training schedule, plus finishing school and how much time he spent with Megan, Matt barely got to see him.

  And he didn’t even want to get started on Lance and Abby. The traitor had moved out. Matt had barely seen either of them since he’d graduated in December. They’d had a little party to celebrate for him and exchange gifts, just the five of them, before they’d all gone their separate ways for Christmas. He’d felt more like an outsider than ever, even though he’d been the guest of honor, the only one not in a couple. The irony of the fact that he was single when he’d been the only one of the three of them to have a girlfriend before last summer was not lost on him.

  Everyone was leaving him behind, moving on with their own lives, following their own dreams, and he sat home in this house that wasn’t really his, with a job that would pay the bills but wasn’t what he’d dreamed of as a teenager, when his walls were filled with surfing posters. He’d worked as a teenager so he could afford to play in the ocean, eventually managing to get a job at the local surf shop and teach lessons over the summer. But surfing for a living wasn’t feasible. Not for him. He didn’t have what it took to go pro, and he didn’t live in the right part of the world to open a shop or teach.

  He hadn’t been surfing in too long. School and football kept him away from the ocean during the only season where surfing wasn’t dangerous in Washington and the waves were big enough to be worth riding. He made time for the summer waves when he went home, and it felt nice to be on a board again, but the baby waves combined with a bunch of beginners learning to surf taking over his favorite beach didn’t do enough to relieve the itch.

  But he wasn’t alone now. He had Hannah. Thinking about surfing brought him back to her. Back to that summer, the last one where he’d had fun surfing, teaching Hannah how to ride his board and his cock. And with the way she reacted to him still, he kind of hoped she might steal more of his food. He’d love the chance to take her into his room and spank her round ass, turning it pink, feeling her get wetter from the sting. She’d liked it when he’d given her playful spanks that summer, though he hadn’t done anything like he was imagining now. No, his tastes had evolved a bit since then. Had hers evolved too?

  He decided to test it out, and casually nudged the carton with his stir fry toward her. She looked at him, raising an eyebrow in question.

  “Are you offering me your food?”

  “Hmm?” He feigned innocence. “What? No. You know I don’t like sharing my food.”

  She chuckled. “Good. Me either.”

  Silence fell while they both ate, taking the edge off their hunger. Matt could feel Hannah’s eyes on him, and he looked up, raising an eyebrow in question.

  She cleared her throat. “So, what’ve you been up to the last few years? Do you still surf?”

  Her questions, so closely mimicking his earlier thoughts, had him pausing for a second before he nodded. “Some. Not as much as I’d like.”

  “Yeah, I’d imagine it’s hard to get much time on the water over here. You told me summers in Westport were best for beginners. And in the fall you still had football this year, right?”

  A sly smile came across his face. “Were you keeping tabs on me, Hannah?”

  A blush stole over her cheeks, but she shook her head. “No. But it’s hard not to notice when your name is all over the sports pages and local news channels during the season.”

  He smiled wider, not buying it. “Uh-huh. Sure. So you never told me why you decided to come to Marycliff.”

  Her eyes narrowed, and she wadded up a napkin and tossed it at him. He caught it in his lap, laughing. “God, you’re full of yourself. I did tell you when you asked. I got a good scholarship and the marketing department here is as good as at UW with smaller class sizes.” She punched him in the shoulder when he wouldn’t stop laughing. “Shut up. I’m serious. That’s why.”

  He caught her hand when she tried to punch him again, shaking his head. “I know. I seem to recall telling you it was a good school with good financial aid packages.” He raised his eyebrows again, needling her with his silent questions. He believed her stated reasons, but had she maybe come here for him after all?

  She let out a sigh, deflating, and pulled her hand out of his grip. “Fine. If you must know, yes, I started looking at Marycliff after I met you. But,”—she narrowed her eyes again and pointed a finger in his face—“I decided to go to Marycliff on its merits. And if anything, you almost made me not come here because of the way you disappeared. So don’t get all self-congratulatory and think your presence here influenced my decision one way or the other.”

  He sobered at that, feeling like an asshole all over again. “I’m sorry for that. I really am.”

  She nodded. “I know. You apologized already. And I appreciate that. I only brought it up because you pushed.”

  They lapsed into silence, finishing their dinner. Pushing his plate away, Matt sat back. “What about you? You’re a marketing major. With the way you were always so passionate about environmental stuff, I figured you’d go into science so you could be at the forefront of research or work for a non-profit to clean up the world.”

  She wrinkled her nose at him, a frown pulling down the corners of her mouth. “No. Most of that stuff is volunteer work, and the people that coordinate it have business or management degrees. I figured marketing would allow me to help more, because if people don’t know how bad things are, how can we convince them to help, y’know? Plus, it’s more practical, working for a non-profit doesn’t pay much.”

  It was Matt’s turn to frown. He understood wanting financial security, but she’d been so idealistic, so her attitude came as a surprise. “Really? T
hat’s why you’re a marketing major?”

  She shrugged. “Don’t look like that. I like it. I like helping run the social media at Eco Utilities. I can do so much with a marketing degree. It opens doors, instead of closing them. I’ll be able to volunteer my services wherever I want and be an asset to any organization instead of only doing boring stuff.”

  He nodded, still frowning a little. But she did seem to enjoy her internship, so who was he to judge? It’s not like he had any room to criticize. He wasn’t going after what he really wanted.

  He turned his attention to the leftover food on the table, glancing at Hannah. “You done?” When she nodded, he started closing up the boxes so he could stash them in the fridge. Just before he closed his box, Hannah’s fingers darted in, plucking out a slice of red pepper and popping it in her mouth, mischief in her eyes when he looked up at her.

  He let out a low growl. “You’ll pay for that.”

  She giggled at him. “Sure, sure. I’ll believe it when I see it.” She stood up, carrying their plates to the kitchen. Matt came right behind her, stashing the food in the fridge, and cornering her against the counters before she could get away.

  “Naughty girl. I warned you there were consequences to stealing my food.” He wrapped an arm around her waist, pulling her tight against him, letting his other hand roam down to caress her ass, palming it before landing a sharp smack.

  She gasped in response, squirming in his grip, but her pupils grew larger, and Matt knew she was turned on too. He groped her ass some more before landing another smack against the other cheek. Her body pushed against his, her hands clutching at his T-shirt over his chest. He smiled down at her, baring his teeth. “Should I punish you, then?”

  He turned them and backed her toward his room. She went without resistance, almost tripping a couple of times, but he had her, making sure she wouldn’t lose her balance. Once in his room, he pushed her down to sit on his bed, turning to close the door behind them just in case. He didn’t expect his roommates home soon, but the memory of their interruption on Friday had him being more careful.