by Claire Adams
I wrapped a towel around my body tightly, smiling as “Smells like Teen Spirit” came on. I leaned against the counter, unwilling to turn the music off, singing along with the gritty, low voice. I decided that the best course of action would be to just go to bed and hope for a better day the next day. Maybe tonight I would get some decent sleep. Maybe tomorrow I would talk to Johnny and everything would be cleared up as some big misunderstanding. And maybe you’ll run into a winning lottery ticket on the ground and be a millionaire who doesn’t have to go to college or work a day for the rest of your life.
I pulled my phone from the speaker dock as soon as the song ended, holding it carefully to avoid letting my hair drip on it as I opened the door to the bathroom and headed straight for my room. The dorm was chilly as it always was at night. No matter what setting Georgia and I put the thermostat on, it always seemed to be freezing by midnight, and we had already discussed multiple conspiracy theories as to the probable cause for that.
I was just about to unwrap my towel and finish drying off, debating whether or not I wanted to wear pajamas to sleep in, when I heard a tapping at my window. “What the hell?” I turned to look and nearly jumped backward into my half-open door: there was a face peeking in through the panes, grinning amongst the branches of the trees. A second later, my brain unfroze enough to realize that it wasn’t just “a face,” it was Johnny; he had climbed up to my window and was hiding in the branches. He had been the one to tap.
I opened the window quickly, staring at him in shock. “What the hell are you doing?” I asked, glancing involuntarily down at the drop. Johnny laughed and pulled himself up off of the thick branch that he’d climbed and over to my windowsill, squeezing past me into my room. My heart was pounding with surprise and fear — Johnny could have really gotten hurt! I quickly closed the window behind him; before I could form another question, he had wrapped his arms around my waist tightly, and his lips were descending on mine, sealing out any protest I might make or any question I might ask.
In spite of my shock and fear, I found myself responding to him almost immediately, melting against him. I was already lightheaded from the hot shower; Johnny’s lips on mine, his tongue sliding into my mouth, tasting and probing, his hands beginning to stroke my body everywhere through the thick, soft towel, were enough to make me nearly forget the whole reason I had gone to find him at the frat house. I moaned softly, leaning up onto the balls of my feet, my body humming with a mixture of contentment and lust. Johnny broke away from my lips and I came back to myself in a flash. “What were you thinking? You could have killed yourself!” Johnny chuckled lowly, his hands moving up and down along the curves of my body over the towel.
“Nah, at worst maybe a couple of broken bones,” he said, kissing me lightly again. “Totally worth it.”
“If the RAs catch you here-” Johnny silenced my protest with another deep, hungry kiss, his hands moving along the folds of the towel up to the spot at the center of my chest where I’d tucked one corner of it in between the towel itself and my cleavage to hold it in place. The fabric fell away all in one movement, pooling at my feet, and Johnny began to touch me everywhere, cupping my breasts and letting his hands drift down to my waist and hips.
“If you close the door and play some music,” Johnny said, nipping playfully at my lips, “the RAs won’t catch me here.” I reeled against him as he gave my hips a playful squeeze, brushing his lips against my jaw.
“You-you’re closer,” I countered, pointing limply towards the door. Johnny chuckled and broke away from me quickly, pushing the door shut. He picked up my phone and handed it to me; I unlocked it and plugged it into the speaker in my room, flipping it to random. Instead of Nirvana, The Strokes came on, filling the room with quiet-hours-approved levels of sound. Johnny wrapped his arms around me, pulling me close once more, and I felt the hard ridge of his erection pressing against me, straining at his jeans as he kissed me, his hands moving all over. He kneaded and rubbed my shoulders, down along my spine, working away knots of tension I hadn’t even known were there, somehow turning me on more and more by the moment.
He lifted me up onto the bed and quickly tugged his shirt over his head, revealing the muscled chest and shoulders I had to admit that I loved, the sexy abs with the wheat-colored treasure-trail shooting down from his navel. Johnny climbed into the bed with me, kissing all over my face, caressing me everywhere. He began to kiss a trail down along my throat, licking and nipping my sensitive skin playfully, and I moaned, biting my lip to stifle the sound. Somehow, I thought, whoever was in the next room down would almost certainly hear, and they would know. They would send an RA in. Johnny’s lips dropped to my breasts and he kissed every inch, every curve of them before claiming each one of my nipples in turn with his mouth, licking and sucking until I cried out, arching up off of the bed.
His hands moved lower along my body, and I grabbed at his shoulders and arms as his fingers brushed along my slick labia, touching me so lightly I barely felt it. Then he was rubbing me, working his way down between my folds, finding my clit with his fingertips and stroking the little bead of nerves until I could feel it swelling and throbbing, tingles of pleasure shooting through my body. “Mmm, Becky — God, I love how wet you are,” Johnny murmured, bringing his lips briefly back up to mine. I twisted and writhed, trying to keep my moans quiet, trying to keep myself from crying out as Johnny stroked and rubbed me, bringing me closer and closer to orgasm.
One of his fingers dipped down, rubbing along my inner labia, teasing me for a moment before it slid slowly inside of me, pushing past the initial resistance of by body. I squirmed as Johnny worked me with his fingers, rubbing and teasing me, curling one finger and then two along my inner walls, stroking me inside and out. My hips moved as if they had a mind of their own; I kissed Johnny everywhere my lips could reach, trailing my hands over his strong, hard back, kneading and massaging, caressing his velvety skin. Johnny’s fingers brushed up against some spot deep inside of me and I cried out, every muscle in my body going tense as he found my g-spot and stroked it again on purpose, making me shiver. “I know this spot…” Johnny’s low, pleased voice filled my ear, blocking out the music playing all around me. His thumb pressed against my clit as he found my g-spot again and then he was rubbing both at the same time; I bit my bottom lip, moans ripping through my throat, cries of pleasure escaping through my teeth as I pitched and arched, so full of pleasure I almost didn’t care if anyone heard me.
Johnny kept working me as I hit my orgasm, my nails digging into the skin along his shoulders, my thighs tightening and my hips bucking off of the bed to meet his touch as spasms of pleasure shot through every nerve in my body. He barely missed a beat, rubbing and stroking as I twisted underneath him, head thrown back against the pillows and my wet hair soaking the sheets and blankets as I thrashed around helpless in the grip of the climax shattering through me. He began to slow as the last of the spasms began to abate, withdrawing his fingers slowly, giving me one last lingering touch along my labia.
I sagged against the bed, panting and gasping for breath, shivering from the force of the pleasure still zinging and tingling through my body. Johnny kissed me everywhere, his hands stroking and soothing me, and I knew he was murmuring something, though I couldn’t discern what it was as the music played around us, swirling through my half-conscious ears. I could still feel his hard cock pressing against me, digging into my hip as he covered my body with his own. Johnny kissed me lazily on the lips and I wrapped my arms around him, for the moment completely lost in how good he had made me feel and how sweet he had been to get me off without any thought for himself.
His hands started to move on me more hungrily, teasing my nipples into firm little nubs, stroking me not to soothe me, but to get me worked up again and I gave myself up to it, kissing him eagerly, touching him everywhere. I reached down and fumbled at the fly of his jeans with half-numb hands, wanting nothing more than to feel him inside of me. All of the panicked thoughts ab
out him being some kind of crazed psychopath were utterly gone from my mind, along with even the name of the girl who had committed suicide. Johnny chuckled and in a movement so fast I couldn’t follow it, his pants and boxers both were off, his skin pressing to mine as he slipped down between my legs. He rocked his hips up against mine and I moaned at the feeling of his hot, hard cock rubbing along my soaking wet labia, the tip rubbing my clit in a steady motion that drove me crazy. He finally shifted against me and kissed me hungrily, swallowing down my moans as he thrust into me slowly.
I wrapped my legs around Johnny’s waist, pushing my hips down to meet his, briefly forgetting entirely the fact that we were in a crowded dorm with paper-thin walls. The reminder came to me as he pushed the last two inches into me, his hips flush against mine. “God you feel so good,” Johnny murmured against my lips.
“Shh,” I replied, an irresistible giggle bubbling up from my chest. “We’re going to get caught.” Johnny flexed his hips, pulling back only to push up deeper inside of me, and I moaned, grabbing a him and pressing my lips together belatedly to try and suppress it.
“Think of all…” Johnny thrust again and I moaned softly, involuntarily. “Think of all the street cred you’ll have in the dorms…having a boy thrown out…” We began to move together, laughing at the image of the RAs busting us, but I still tried to keep quiet, in spite of how good Johnny felt inside of me, in spite of the rising pleasure that tingled through my nerves. Everything felt so right — I couldn’t remember it ever feeling this right with anyone else I had been with. Only Johnny could make me gasp and shiver like I was, only he could make me moan out without caring, only he could make me feel like I was about to come in a matter of minutes.
Somehow we both held back, trying to savor the moment — even though it could end with someone crashing into the room at any moment. I buried my face against Johnny’s neck and shoulder, as my moans and cries came louder; he thrust into me harder and faster and my body moved to meet him, muscles tensing and flexing, every nerve tingling with pleasure I couldn’t hold back. I hit my second orgasm maybe a heartbeat before Johnny reached his climax, and I felt every muscle clamping down on him as if my body itself didn’t want him to leave even as the first gush of sticky-slick heat rushed into me, Johnny’s cock twitching, both of us moaning out without even caring about the outcome.
Johnny fell to the bed next to me, his arms snaking around me, pulling me close as we both panted and gasped for breath, trembling slightly. “Feeling better?” he asked me, idly cupping my breast and bringing it up to his lips to kiss the still-firm nipple. I giggled, curling in closer to him.
“A little bit, yeah,” I admitted. Everything other than Johnny was a million miles away from me — when had I ever felt bad?
“Listen; I’m sorry about the game,” Johnny said, kissing me lightly on the lips. “That was really shitty of me.” I shook my head.
“It’s okay, I should have called.” Johnny brushed a lock of hair away from my neck, looking down at me with so much warmth, satisfaction, and love in his eyes that I found myself smiling like an idiot up at him.
“No, really — I’m sorry. It’s a football game. It’s not like it’s the end of the world if I miss it. And you’d come over in spite of not feeling well.” Johnny shook his head, kissing me on the cheek. “I should have been paying attention to you.”
“Fine,” I said, stretching lazily against him. “You committed the horrible crime of enjoying a football game with your friends, to which I sentence you to making me come twice — oh hey, you’ve already done that!” Johnny chuckled. “Did your team at least win?” Johnny smiled broadly.
“My team always wins,” he told me, nuzzling against my neck. There was something about that, the way he spoke, that somehow reminded me of why I had one over to the Phi Kappa house in the first place. “God, I’ve missed you. You have no idea.” I turned in towards him, covering my face against his chest. I couldn’t bring up Claire White — not now. Not when Johnny had just given me so much pleasure.
We cuddled for a while before Johnny asked if I had any water in the room. “Getting you off is thirsty work,” he told me with a little grin. I rolled my eyes and climbed out of the bed; Georgia still wasn’t home from her date. Must be going almost as well as my night is, I thought, retrieving a bottle and climbing back into bed. I didn’t even bother to close the door behind me.
We cuddled some more, talking about our classes. I remembered in a flash that I had to go home again over the weekend, when Johnny asked what I was doing. “Hey, maybe you can come with me,” I said, grinning up at him. “My parents are having this big, boring anniversary party. If you’re there with me, maybe they’ll stop pushing stupid Country Club boys at me.”
“Or if they do, I’ll just punch them — the boys, not your parents — in the face and get us kicked out, so we can spend the rest of the weekend to ourselves.” I laughed, shaking my head.
“No punching anyone,” I told him, wagging my finger. Johnny rolled his eyes with a grin and agreed to my terms, cuddling me close to him. Gradually the talk slowed down and we spent more and more time just lying together, touching each other. I fell asleep in his arms, content for the first time in days.
Sometime later, I heard the dorm room door slam shut and started out of my sleep. I turned my head in time to see Georgia peeking into the room, and felt Johnny come awake next to me as she laughed. “God, you two; are you trying to get in trouble with the RAs?” She shook her head.
“What time is it?” Johnny asked with absolutely no concern. He slipped out of the bed and Georgia whooped at the sight of his naked body. I doubled up in laughter, shaking against the pillows as I watched him dress without a shred of shame. Johnny pulled me up enough for a quick kiss, flashing me a grin before he moved to the window.
“Do not kill yourself,” I said, rolling my eyes as he opened the window and climbed out onto the branch of the tree he had used to get up to my room. He disappeared into the darkness and I sighed, unable to quite help the lingering amused smile curving my lips.
Georgia threw herself into my desk chair, grinning at me. “So it looks like everything’s all good with you two once more,” she said. I pulled the blankets up around me, covering myself. I shrugged.
“Yeah, I was just overreacting. No big deal; everything’s fine.” I felt weird saying it. I hadn’t been able to bring myself to talk to Johnny about the biggest thing bothering me, and I didn’t really like lying to Gigi about it, but how could I tell her, Nah, he came into my bedroom window and before I knew it he’d gotten me off twice, so I didn’t think it was a great time to ask about his dead former girlfriend? I felt a little ashamed at myself — if Johnny was really such a terrible person, how could I have let him into my room?
“Well, I don’t know about you, but I’m exhausted,” Georgia said, standing quickly. “Glad everything worked out. Did you have a chance to look over the notes?”
“Nah. I’ll check ‘em tomorrow.” Georgia practically floated out of my bedroom, closing the door behind her. I barely stayed awake long enough to turn out the light before I curled back up in my bed, breathing in the smell of Johnny’s cologne on my pillow before I fell fast asleep.
Chapter Seven
I fidgeted a little bit in the passenger seat of Johnny’s truck, looking out through the window at the scenery flashing by as we rolled down the Interstate. I’d dressed up for the big party, and I was relieved to see Johnny pull up in his truck looking every bit as neat and sharp as he had the first time he had met my parents. “I’m excited to see where you grew up,” Johnny said, grinning at me from the driver’s side.
“It’s a pretty boring place,” I said with a shrug. “I mean, it’s exactly the kind of place you’d think of with people like Mom and Dad. Everything all spick-and-span, immaculate lawn, pressure-cleaned driveway, all that.” Johnny laughed.
“I promise not to drop any priceless china or break any expensive vases,” he told me, reach
ing over and taking my hand in his. “And I swear I won’t punch anyone.” I shook my head and grinned.
“It’s kind of revolting really, if you think about it. It’s not like they can take it with them when they die.”
“They can pass it on to you,” Johnny pointed out. I grimaced.
“I don’t really want it, though. Not most of it.” I thought about what I would possibly keep from the house I’d grown up in. “So much of that stuff is so pointless.”
“I know what you mean,” he agreed. “Worst case scenario, sell everything you don’t want if it comes down to it and take a nice vacation with the money.” I laughed. My parents would be appalled — and I had to admit part of me loved that idea.
“What about you? Where did you grow up? What kind of house was it?” Johnny shrugged, looking off to the side. He changed lanes, his lips pressed together.
“Nowhere special. Pretty far from here, actually.” I frowned at that, but I figured that he might be a little ashamed. I’d been through that before with some of my non-parent-approved boyfriends.
“How far?” Johnny laughed.
“About as far as you can get and still be in the same state,” he told me. I grinned.
“So why’d you pick a school so far away? Couldn’t wait to get away from your overbearing parents?” Johnny glanced at me, and I saw a flash of suspicion in his eyes and a quick frown. But it disappeared the very next moment and he shrugged again.
“Best offer; none of the other schools would give me a good enough scholarship to cover everything.” I nodded, accepting that answer. It made sense, especially if Johnny hadn’t grown up with a wealthy family. My own parents would have never accepted me getting a scholarship to a school other than an Ivy League — and then only an academic scholarship. They had insisted that they would fund everything for me, that I would never have to borrow money from a bank or beg for money from any foundation.