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Tryst

Page 13

by Alex Rosa


  Friends to strangers have greeted me with “Happy Birthday,” and drinks, but not once have I laid eyes on Blake since dancing with Rich.

  Maybe he ditched my party.

  The thought frustrates me, but I guess I wouldn’t find it surprising.

  Dismissing the thought, I chuckle in the tiled space. The moment I witness my reflection in the bathroom mirror, I grin wider at the sight of my unexpected look of happiness. Is this what I look like to everyone else right now? My flushed skin makes my nearly manic smile glow, and I love it.

  It’s been awhile since I’ve felt this good. A long while.

  I exhale a big breath, thinking how stupid it is of me for assuming tonight would be a wreck. It’s my birthday; I deserve to have a good time, and I make my own destiny.

  I reflect on the fact that I’ve been dodging Blake’s stares most of the night, but he has yet to appear. What a funny dichotomy. I make it a goal to avoid his stares, yet all I can manage to do is look for him.

  My mind bounces to the idea of Rich. He’s been attentive and sweet, but why is he the last person on my mind?

  I grumble. At least Rich helps me study, where as my other distraction does everything but help me focus on my schoolwork.

  Even while standing next to Rich this evening, his hands periodically intertwining around mine, I would try to keep my mind off Blake, but I found myself, in lulling moments, thrumming my fingers over my lips, aching for someone to cure them of their tingling.

  I shake my head to delete the consideration of all these forbidden thoughts and libido-fueled feelings, but the movement is too quick, making me dizzy. I focus on my reflection, smile to reassure myself, and decide I should head back out. I’ve had enough of this me-myself-and-I powwow.

  I stumble out of the bathroom, delightfully light-headed, a grin still glued on my face. I like this happy thing. I think it might suit me.

  I walk down the hall, ready to reenter the party and find Tucker, but I’m being yanked—hard.

  Someone grabs my elbow and pulls me into a bedroom.

  I close my eyes, because the quick movements make me dizzy again, and before I open them, I realize where I am and who is near me by the delightful smell of soap, and something else that I can’t place my finger on. Blake, it smells like Blake. The scent flames my blood, causing my veins to ignite like gunpowder, leaving fiery trails within every element of my being.

  The sound of the door shutting behind me knocks me out of my trance. My eyes fly open with embarrassment. Blake’s mesmerizing, deep forest-green eyes look as hazy as mine did moments ago in the mirror, but he’s smiling, and so am I. I think I forgot how to breathe.

  I bolt upright, realizing that this is wrong and dangerous. “What are you doing?”

  The corner of his mouth arches upward. “You’ve been avoiding me.” His words are matter-of-fact, but his tone is seductive.

  “Um, no, I haven’t.”

  He has the audacity to roll his eyes, and it annoys me. He’s leaning too close to where I’m propped up against the door. I shove him away to show my displeasure.

  It ends up being a haphazard attempt. My muscles are weakened by the booze. The lame shove makes him chuckle, which makes me angrier.

  I push harder, and he takes a step back.

  “You have been avoiding me. I’ve called and texted you. I’ve been waiting up for you. You haven’t been home all week.”

  He’s noticed. This shouldn’t make me as happy as it does.

  “Skyler, why have you been avoiding me?”

  He closes in on me again, but his proximity is even more intoxicating than the alcohol. I can’t believe we’re having this conversation.

  I am a heaping pile of hormones, but I manage a stuttered response. “I-I-I was just avoiding complication.”

  “Complication?” he repeats.

  What am I trying to say here?

  “Yeah. This is all too much. I’d rather just forget it happened.” He knows full well what I’m talking about. Even though it’s a lie, because I had decided only a day ago that I want him, I know it also happens to be the appropriate response. I’m proud of myself, but when I catch sight of his face falling, it irks me, and I backpedal.

  “That’s not what I mean. It’s just . . . um . . . it’s Josh. I just can’t. He told me no. And boyfriend? I don’t want one. It’s not right. I can’t. This just . . . no. You? . . . Too much.” My hands cover my face. I’m embarrassed beyond belief by my incoherent attempted explanation, and I can’t look him in the eye. I don’t know how to go about this.

  He tugs at my arms, trying to pull them away from my face. I strain against his grip, still too shy.

  “Skyler, you really are adorable. Please . . .”

  The plea wins me over. I have no shame.

  Blake places my arms at my sides, and he does something I’m simply not expecting, contrary to all my belligerent explanations: he swiftly presses his lips against mine. The kiss is shockingly sweet. I close my eyes and release a moan, realizing that I want nothing more than his lips right now.

  His skilled mouth parts my lips, and our tongues tangle around each other. I’m only too willing to oblige.

  “I want you,” he utters, “and you want me. I can feel it.”

  I sigh against his lips, trying to fight his overconfident assumption, though he’s right. Out of principle, I shake my head. I push him off, but it’s a feeble attempt. I don’t like him making me so vulnerable. Or maybe I do. I’m so confused.

  He resists, and I can feel his smile against my lips, hinting that this is our game now. I smile, too. His hand moves to the small of my back, pulling me to him. I can feel him hard and straining against me. I realize he’s pulling me inside his bedroom.

  The next thing I know, I’m tumbling back onto his bed. His mouth is ravishing mine, and I attempt to push him off. I moan weakly, “Blake, please. We shouldn’t.” I’m not too sure of my words, but this isn’t part of my plan. Not tonight, I remind myself, but it seems I’ve lost control; he tastes too good.

  With heavy hands sliding over my ribs and still kissing me, he asks, “You really want me to stop?”

  He presses against my body, and everything below my waist clenches in tingling anticipation. Before hearing my answer, he continues in rushed breaths, “I can’t stop thinking about you.”

  The statement causes me to stop everything. Can’t stop thinking about me? What is he looking for? I can’t do this. I feel overwhelmed. My plan was specific, and I worry what his words mean. We need clarification.

  Sensing my panic, he lifts his head, looking down at me. I become bold and regain some of my strength as I whip him around, so that he’s now lying on the bed and I’m straddling his hips, looking into those eyes, enjoying my view.

  I can see that he’s out of breath, and I move to touch my swollen lips, finding that he is most definitely the cure to their tingling. This is all such a sensory overload. I place my palms on his chest to steady myself; the feeling of its rapid rise and fall is all too pleasing.

  Blake’s face etches itself with some unidentifiable emotion. “Skyler, what’s—?”

  “I don’t want a boyfriend,” I sputter.

  He chuckles. “Good, I’m not looking for a girlfriend.”

  I bite my lip, contemplating the situation.

  “If you’re going to leave me hanging again, please let go of that lip.”

  He tugs my chin, causing my teeth to release my lip. The motion is adorable, and only fuels my need for him. I really am at his whim, though he may not know it.

  Then I think: What if I really did this? What would this mean?

  My morality is battling with my sense of youthful discovery. “What about Josh?”

  He runs his hands up and down my thighs to egg me on. I just know it.

  Before I realize what’s happening, he flips me back onto the bed and hovers over me. I start to giggle. This is all such a game, and I think we’re both enjoying playing it.

/>   As if that’s his cue, Blake leans in, buries his face in my neck, and nips at my earlobe. I gasp mid-giggle, and bring my hands up to his strong arms, needing to steady myself even though I’m lying down.

  Blake leans closer and nibbles my bottom lip, tugging it free of my hold, and I melt. He is too good at this.

  “I want you . . . so badly,” he groans while peppering kisses along my jawline and pushing his hips into mine. The friction is right where I want it.

  I close my eyes, taking in a deep breath, reveling in his words and his touch. The tug that’s low in my belly is almost overwhelming. I dig my nails into the flesh of his biceps, trying to get a grip, in all senses of the word.

  No one has ever said that to me, and especially never like that.

  I open my eyes, searching his. I can’t speak because I can’t tell what I want to do anymore, or which way is up or down, but I guess that could be the alcohol.

  “What if we don’t tell Josh?” he asks as if trying to get back on track.

  There. He said it. Lie. We could lie.

  I stifle a laugh, and shake my head at the solution I’ve considered countless times, but I realize the audacity of it. I roll the idea around in my mind. I can tell Blake is panicking again as his eyes dart over my face. Maybe he really does want this, and that would make two of us.

  Ah, fuck it. I give up. I don’t want to fight this anymore, brother or not.

  I grab for his shirt, tug him toward me, and kiss him hard.

  He accepts it. “What are we doing?” he asks as his lips keep pace with mine.

  “Stop talking,” I command.

  He laughs, and then moves to kissing me behind my ear. I shiver.

  “What about Josh?” he asks.

  I grab for the bottom of his shirt, pulling it off his glorious body.

  I pout, glaring at him with the only seductive look I have ever attempted. “If you mention my brother one more time, I’m going to change my mind. Now please, just fuck me.”

  A grin spreads through his face. “Who knew you could be so rude,” he teases, and his eyes ignite as if it’s Christmas morning and he can finally open his presents.

  We waste no time. His hands move to the buttons on my shirt. I wonder if anyone will notice me missing from my birthday party, but the thought is forgotten as I feel Blake’s lips make contact with my breasts as he tugs down the cup of my bra. He takes my nipple between his teeth, tugging gently, and then sucking at the sensitive bud. I groan, tangling my fingers into his unruly brown hair.

  In no time, he has unbuttoned my shirt and unclasped the front of my bra. He kisses down my belly, letting out a guttural sigh.

  “One of these days, I’m going to worship every inch of you.”

  I close my eyes, absorbing the statement, realizing I want him more than I have ever wanted anything in my life. Why does he have the ability to blurt out the hottest things?

  He unbuttons my jeans, and everything below my waist tightens again. He tugs my jeans off, and I sit up to work on unbuttoning his. As I pull his down, I place my hand against the erection over his boxer briefs, and he moans. The sound is more satisfying than I imagined.

  He leans over to his nightstand to grab a condom, and hands it to me, as if giving me the option to stop this if I want to one last time.

  There isn’t any time to think, and I really don’t want to let myself think anyway.

  I rip the foil package with my teeth, panting with need. He’s nearly naked and I can’t wait to take in the complete sight.

  He removes his briefs, and I’m greeted with his impressive length, hard and ready for me. I get the craving to take him in my mouth, but I don’t think there’s enough time for that.

  I roll the condom over him, and lean back down. He climbs over me. The look in his eyes is like a predator about to devour his prey, and it has me soaking.

  He claims my mouth as his hand slides down my body, between my breasts, and to my panties. With deft fingers, he glides down to my sex, and I can sense his smile against my lips. I know he can feel my need for him, his fingers gliding over my swollen core.

  He slips one finger inside me, then two. I throw my head back and let out a moan. I’m already almost on the brink.

  “You’re so wet,” he groans.

  “I want you inside me.” My reply is breathy as I attempt to capture his lips.

  Another cue and he acts swiftly. He pulls my panties off, and adjusts himself between my legs. His mouth caresses my lips as he eases himself inside me. He buries his face into my neck while my hands rest with a firm, possessive grip on his toned back. He takes a moment to let both our bodies acclimate to each other, stilling inside me. The fill is overwhelming in the best way.

  He begins a slow, steady rhythm as my body arches, meeting him for every move. With each pulse, I’m taking him to the hilt. I bite my lip to stifle my moans as his mouth kisses its way up my neck and back to my lips.

  He feels so good and my body rises, still aching for more.

  “Faster, Blake,” I pant as I claw at his arms.

  “You’re so tight,” he stutters through clenched teeth. “If I go faster, I’ll come.” He moans, and it only makes that frantic carnal feeling rise.

  “Please,” I beg, “I’m so close. Faster.”

  With my plea, he picks up his pace, slamming harder into me, each time hitting me in that spot that ignites an involuntary whimper with every swing of his hips.

  “You feel so good,” he breathes against my lips.

  I can’t contain myself as I say his name aloud, clenching around him as I let go, my body releasing the deliciously coiled tension in tremors.

  He buries his head in my neck, biting my shoulder as he comes at the same time. “Oh fuck, Skyler.”

  Floating back down to earth I open my eyes, realizing his head is leaning against my forehead as we try to catch our breaths in post-coital bliss. A sheen of sweat has formed over our bodies, and I swear, if I had more time, I’d lick every inch of him.

  He opens his eyes, smiling as we make eye contact, and if I’m not mistaken, I feel like both of us are tempted to say aloud, “Finally!” in regards to our fantastic mid-party quickie. However, time is of the essence.

  He kisses me chastely and pulls himself out as he collapses next to me.

  I sit up on my elbows, smiling, and peer down at him.

  “You look pleased. I hope I’m the cause of it,” he says as he peels the condom off, tossing it into a trash bin next to his bed.

  I admire the view of the Adonis next to me, and nod in confirmation while licking my lips.

  I don’t have the time to sit back and reflect on my naughty sexual conquest, even though I wish I did. I look around for my panties as I get up and button my shirt. I see them next to the bed and grab them. He does the same with his boxer briefs.

  Once I slip my panties on, he tugs at my arm. He’s standing next to me, and now his closeness feels welcome and oddly familiar. Blake smells like sex, and the combination with his already intoxicating scent has me reeling.

  He pulls me into an abrupt kiss, and his tongue dips into my mouth for another taste. His hands move up to cradle my face against his. If I let this kiss go on, I’ll never leave the room. I’ll want him to fuck me all over again. His touch really does consume me, and this early on in the game, I know that can be dangerous.

  I turn away; I need to pull myself together. I finally take notice of the hum of the party outside, and I know that sooner or later people will start to wonder where I’ve gone.

  The corner of his mouth twitches upward as he watches me try to resist him. I slip on my jeans, and following my lead, he does the same, but he’s still naked from the waist up. It’s unfair that his body is so distracting.

  “I have to get back to my party,” I whisper to fill the silence.

  Blake pulls his shirt over his lean torso, but has that same smile on his face, the one that makes me feel like he’s laughing at me.

  �
�Am I funny to you?” I goad.

  I try adjusting my hair as I walk toward the closed door.

  He reaches for my waist, swiveling me around, and pins me against the door with his hips, my body beginning that familiar buzz all over again.

  He takes the lead so easily, and even though it’s hotter than hell, it can be intimidating

  “Not at all. I’m just all sorts of pleased at the moment.”

  I bite my lip at his close proximity, and his words. “Well, I’m glad to hear it.”

  I’m smitten beyond belief, and I think he might be, too. The thought causes a blush to creep over my skin. I feel like I’ve conquered some unnamed need, and I only want more.

  He leans in, kissing me, and I wish I could have his kind of confidence—where I can kiss whoever I damn well please, and be sure that the other person won’t mind.

  My lips capture his, and I reach up to run my fingers through his just-fucked hair, anchoring him to me. Surprising me, he moans at the gesture. I’d never get bored of that sound.

  The kiss escalates. He sucks at my bottom lip, making my skin tingle, before he asks a peculiar question. “So is this a one-time thing? Am I supposed to let you go now?”

  Against his mouth, the only thing I can muster is, “Mmm.”

  He chuckles as he moves his lips to the sensitive spot below my ear. “Is that a yes or a no? Because I’m sure I can go for round two right now.”

  I push him away. “I’ll take a rain check on round two, how’s that for an answer?”

  He smiles that all-American boy grin, and says, “The best kind.”

  As I reach for the doorknob, I get a wave of confidence. I want to be able to show him that this game we’re playing is a two-man sport, and that he doesn’t get to have all the control.

  I swerve back around and grab his shirt, yanking him into my lips again. I pull away instead and smile. He looks shocked but extremely satisfied. That’s exactly what I was going for. Maybe I can play his game.

  The intangible magnetic force between us is almost terrifying, yet alluring.

  I turn back toward the door and head into the hallway.

  The sounds of the music and people hit me hard. I was in my secret, blissful world before, and now I’m back in the chaos. The environment knocks me off-balance, but I heave in a deep, leveling breath, forcing myself to pretend like nothing happened.

 

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