by T. K. Leigh
I storm away, never feeling so embarrassed in my life. All I want is to go home, crawl into bed, and wake up in college, where I can leave behind all the social burdens of fitting in.
Before I can get too far, a hand grips my arm through the blanket. I gasp as I’m tugged into Drew’s embrace. His chest heaves, his hold on me endearing and powerful at the same time. “Do you really think you’re just my sister’s best friend?” His voice rumbles like thunder. I swear I feel the ground shake beneath me from the force.
I part my lips, the intensity in the lines of his face catching me off-guard. My muscles weaken, the hairs on my nape rising. A delicious shiver rolls through me, completely unlike the one that trickled down my spine when Damian touched me earlier.
“You could never be just my sister’s best friend.”
Before I could utter a single word in response, he cups my cheeks in his hands and presses his lips to mine. They’re soft, full, in control. I’m completely frozen, my body stiff, not even breathing.
Drew’s kissing me.
Andrew Brinks is kissing me.
He’s giving me my first kiss, just like I always imagined he would.
Holy crap.
Sensing my surprise at the sudden assault, he pulls away, avoiding my eyes. “I’m sorry. I shouldn’t—”
Snapping out of my stupor, I drop the blanket to the ground and lunge toward him, flinging my arms around his neck as I press my lips back to his. He returns my kiss with a passion I’ve never experienced. It’s hot, lustful, wanton. The way he crushes my body against his makes me feel wanted, desired…beautiful. I’m not sure what I’m doing, but this feels natural, feels right, feels perfect.
His hands clutch my hips and he lifts me, forcing my legs around his waist. Lightning strikes deep in my core when he presses my back against the aluminum siding of the house, pulsing between my thighs. The party continues to rage on inside, the sound of Dave Matthews’ voice singing “Crash Into Me” filtering outside, but everyone remains oblivious to us as we make out in a dark corner. I’ve often thought about my first kiss, thinking it would be the culmination of some big romantic gesture. I suppose it is, the past few months just the buildup before the explosion.
His tongue caresses my bottom lip and I open for him, doing everything to bring his body closer to mine, clawing at him, the heat bubbling low in my stomach scorching me. Even a breath of air between us is too much space. Ever since middle school, I’ve noticed Drew, even when he didn’t pay attention to me. For years, I’ve dreamt of this moment. Not just of my first kiss, but of kissing Andrew Brinks. The real thing is so much more spectacular than I imagined. I’ll forever remember what it feels like to have his lips on mine, to feel his unshaven jaw scratch my face, to crave the heat of his hands on my skin. I can only hope this is just the first of a lifetime of kisses I’ll receive from him.
He moves from my mouth to my jawline, and I throw my head back, thrusting against him. I may be inexperienced, but I can tell how turned on he is. It makes me burn even hotter for him. He’s my first kiss, but in this cloud of lust, I want more than just a kiss.
“Drew,” I moan when he hits that spot where my ear meets my neck. I never thought much of it before, but something about the way he uses his tongue and teeth at the same time drives me insane with need. “Please.”
My words are desperate, my insides tighter than they’ve ever been. If he keeps pulsing against me like he is, I’m going to fall apart. I’ve touched myself before and know what an orgasm feels like, but I’ve never experienced anything remotely as pleasurable and satisfying as Drew moving against me, his mouth on my skin, his hands gripping me with a craving I didn’t think possible.
I reach for his pants, my mind a fog. I’m not thinking, just reacting. Right now, all I care about is feeling more of Drew, feeling all of him. Whenever I’ve heard girls my age talk about sex and losing their virginity, it never appealed to me, the thought of enduring that initial pain scaring me. But with Drew, I no longer feel that way. I know he’ll be compassionate, gentle, giving, just as he’s always been in every other facet of his life.
When my fingers find his belt, he immediately pulls back, grabbing my forearm, panting. “Whoa. Wait a minute.”
Our eyes meet and he helps lower my feet to the ground. It feels like a bucket of ice water has been poured over me.
“Did I do something wrong?” I ask. “Did I not do it right?”
With a sigh, he cups my face. The way he touches me, admires me, holds me makes me feel secure. “You did everything right, which is why I needed to stop you.”
I open my lips to protest, but he captures it with a kiss. It’s not as deep as his previous ones, but it’s just as fulfilling.
“You are amazing, Brooklyn. Everything about you…” The muscles in his face seem to tighten again as he stares at me. “I am hopelessly unable to control myself around you.”
With a sly smile, I hoist myself onto my tiptoes and drag my tongue down his jawline. I’ve seen women do this in the movies and it always looks like the recipient enjoys it. By the way Drew’s hold on me tightens, I assume it has the same effect on him. “Then don’t.”
He groans, then pulls away. “You’re making this incredibly hard.”
“That’s the point,” I smirk, surprised at my knack for flirting. I suppose I’ve watched Molly do it enough that it should be like second nature to me.
“Brooklyn, please.” His voice turns serious. “You don’t deserve this. As much as I want to, your first time can’t be against the wall at some party after you’ve been drinking. I don’t want you to regret it.” He lowers his mouth to mine, the heat of his lips gently brushing against me sending a tingle through my body.
“I won’t regret it, Drew. I can’t regret anything that involves you. I’ve wanted you as long as I can remember. Please.”
He stares deep into my eyes and I see the battle raging within.
“Please,” I say once more. “I want my first time to be special. Let me have that with you, someone I know who will respect me.”
He exhales a breath, almost resigned, then narrows his gaze on me. “You mentioned your dad’s working tomorrow, right?”
“Yeah. A twenty-four. He goes in at seven.”
A smile tugs on his lips as he brings his mouth back to mine. “Then I’ll be at your house at 7:01. I don’t need to leave for the airport until 11:30. That gives me plenty of time to make sure you’re taken care of the way you should be.”
My eyes roll into the back of my head as his lips land on my neck. I’ve never had a boy talk to me this way. I suppose there’s a good reason. Drew isn’t a boy. He’s a man. Excitement buzzes deep in my core at the idea that this person I’ve known since I was a little girl will forever be my first. My first kiss. My first sexual experience. My first everything.
Drew is my everything.
Chapter 9
Drew
“Come on,” I say to Brooklyn, retrieving the blanket and draping it over her shoulders, ensuring her body’s covered. I don’t care that wearing a bra and panties is akin to a bikini, at least according to some. In my eyes, it isn’t, and I don’t want anyone seeing her like this. I want to be the only one lucky enough to admire the beauty that lies beneath her clothes.
“Where are we going?”
“I’m taking you home,” I answer, my voice stern.
She slows her steps. “But my clothes…”
I look from her to the house, releasing a sigh. There’s no way in hell I’m going to let her step foot in there. I have half a mind to drag Molly out of there, too, but I trust Brody. Despite giving him shit for his subpar hockey skills, he’s a good guy, not someone I need to worry about. If Molly says no, Brody will respect that…unlike Damian Murphy.
“Fine.” I usher her toward my car and her mouth opens, about to protest. “I’ll go in. You’re going to wait for me where I know you’ll be safe.”
“But—”
“No. This is
not up for debate.” I stop when I reach the passenger door and open it. “I care about you too much to let you walk back into that wolves’ den.” I help her into the seat, then step back, resting my hands on the roof of the car as I lean toward her. “I’ll go get your things.” I place a soft kiss on her cheek. “Lock the doors. Don’t let anyone in.”
“Drew, I’m fine,” she insists. “I can take care of myself.”
I cock my head to the side, arching a brow. I don’t have to say a word for her to know exactly what I’m thinking.
Hanging her head, she seems to shrink into herself, pulling the blanket tighter around her frame. “I’ll keep the doors locked.”
“Thank you.” I pause as I’m about to close the door. “You don’t need to take your clothes off to get people to like you, Brooklyn. And if you do, those aren’t the people you need as friends.”
She meets my eyes, her chin quivering. In that one look, I can sense the events of the night are finally catching up with her. “I thought it would help me fit in,” she confesses, her voice catching as she fights back tears.
I crouch so I’m eye-level with her. “What makes you think that?”
“I don’t know.” She sniffles. “Molly’s always hanging out with Brody. You had Mindy. Everyone around me was part of a couple. I felt like a child, until I ran into Damian. Going to the basement with him was stupid, but… I don’t know. I guess I liked that someone finally paid attention to me.”
I brush a strand of hair behind her ear, then run a finger down her face, tilting her chin so her eyes are locked with mine. “That’s not the kind of attention you need, Brooklyn. Those guys… They’re pigs.”
I lean toward her, brushing my lips against hers. I don’t think I’ll ever get enough of her kisses. All summer, I’ve imagined how her lips would taste, although I did everything not to. Nothing could have prepared me for how perfect, how sweet, how addicting they are. I don’t know what came over me, what caused me to finally break down and kiss her. My father’s admonition hangs over me like a dark cloud, but I can’t ignore my heart anymore. She’ll be sixteen in a few days. His concerns are nearly moot.
“You deserve better than that.” I’m not sure I’m what she deserves, either, but at least I know I’ll respect her, take care of her… Love her? I press one more chaste kiss to her mouth, then stand up. “I’ll be back in a few minutes. Lock the doors.”
“Yes, sir,” she retorts, her voice light.
I close the door and dash back up the street, barreling into the house. The crowd seems to part like the red sea as I stride through the packed living room and make my way down the stairs to the basement.
I’d come earlier because I knew Brooklyn would be here. My date with Mindy certainly didn’t go as planned, at least according to her. After my almost kiss with Brooklyn this afternoon, the last thing I wanted was to have a hot and heavy make out session with Mindy. I told her as much, and she wasn’t happy. The date cut short, I headed here. The instant I stepped into the living room, I’d heard one of the basketball players announce that Brooklyn was about to take her top off, then he excitedly clambered to the basement. I’d never been so angry in my life. That was the moment I saw red.
As I step off the last stair into the basement, back to the scene of the proverbial crime, I see red again. It takes all my restraint not to leave every single guy with a broken bone or two. I was warned. I got off easy last time. I doubt my dad has many more strings he can pull to keep me out of the court system, but that doesn’t mean I can just let Damian get away with this.
My eyes narrow on him, my nostrils flare as I stalk toward him. He notices me and jumps up from the couch, letting go of the girl wrapped in his menacing arms. The cocky smirk that had been plastered on his face earlier is replaced with fear. My lip curling, I wrap my hand around his neck, slamming him against the wall. He visibly trembles, clawing at my grip, and I smile at his struggle.
“If you so much as touch her again,” I begin, then glower at the crowd of onlookers. My attention is mainly focused on Damian’s friends, but I address everyone. “If any of you even thinks about it…” I return my eyes to Damian, “I’ll get on the next plane home and make you wish all I gave you was a broken nose.”
With my free hand, I reel back. Damian flinches, his body stiffening. Laughing, I release my hold on him without hitting him. “Pussy.” I turn away, spying Brooklyn’s clothes on the floor. The room is silent as I grab them. Then I leave, hoping I never have to see any of these people again in my lifetime.
I retreat out of the house, a smile building on my lips as I think of Brooklyn’s kisses, her body, her everything. As I approach my car, her eyes fling to mine, scared and worried. When she realizes it’s me, her whole body relaxes. I click on the key fob and duck into the driver’s seat. I lean across the console, kissing her, then hand her things over.
“Next time you go to a party, I suggest keeping your clothes on.” After turning the key, I pull the car into the street.
“Smart advice.”
I give her a small smile before hardening my expression. “I’m serious. I didn’t like the idea of leaving you to begin with. But now, after tonight, I really don’t like it. I won’t be around to make sure you’re okay.”
“Well, you have nothing to worry about. I’m never going to another party. It’s not my scene. I’d much rather sit at home and read a book.”
“If you ask me, reading is a lot sexier than getting drunk.” Our eyes meet briefly as I come to a stoplight.
“I’m glad you think so.”
“I do. I always have.” I reach across the center console and grasp her hand. I’ve often done this same thing with Mindy, but her fingers intertwining with mine didn’t feel like this, like someone’s setting off a Fourth of July fireworks display in my stomach.
“I’m sorry things didn’t work out with Mindy,” she says after a while.
“Don’t be. I never should have dated her in the first place.” I run my thumb along her knuckles. Her skin’s soft, delicate, angelic.
She contemplates my words for a moment. “Why is that?”
I briefly float my eyes to hers. “Because of you.”
“Me?”
“Yes, Brooklyn. You. You’re all I want. No one else.”
Her body seems to fuse into the seat at my words, her eyes bright, her skin glowing. “I like the sound of that.”
“Me, too.”
The remainder of the drive is silent. As I pull up in front of her house, I turn my headlights off, not wanting to wake her father. Once I kill the engine, I dash over to the passenger side to help her out, placing a hand on the small of her back. The blanket is still wrapped around her, so I carry her clothes as we walk up the steep incline of her driveway.
“You should probably get dressed before you go in, don’t you think?” I whisper as we approach the garage. “What if your dad’s awake?”
“It’s after midnight. He won’t be. He has to be up at 5:30 to go to work.”
“You don’t know that. He’ll lose his shit if you walk into that house wearing nothing but your underwear, a blanket wrapped around you, especially considering this is the first party he’s ever allowed you to go to. If you were my daughter and that happened, I know what I’d be thinking, and it wouldn’t be good.”
“Do you really want me to put my clothes back on?” Her voice becomes low and seductive. There’s a subtle slur, but she’s not nearly as tipsy as she was when I first found her. She spreads her arms, allowing the blanket to fall to the ground. I’ve always thought Brooklyn was shy, but I’ve seen a side of her tonight I never knew existed. She’s confident, bold, assertive. I like this side of her.
I bite my bottom lip, my erection springing back to life as I stare at her in just her bra and panties. I pull her to the side of the garage, hiding us from any cars driving by. I press her back against the side of the building, holding her arms above her head.
“That’s the last thing I want
,” I groan, burying my face in her neck, kissing her skin. She’s like an aphrodisiac. Now that I’ve gotten a taste, I’ll never be satisfied with anything else. “Tonight is going to be torture, knowing what awaits me tomorrow.”
I move to her lips, diving in for another taste. It’s heavenly, decadent, sublime. I never want to stop. I’m kicking myself for depriving me…us of this the past few months. We have such little time left and regret fills me, regardless of the reason I stayed away.
Releasing my grip on her arms, I stare at her, running my hand down her face, wanting to imprint everything about her to memory, hoping it’ll get me through the lonely nights once I’m thousands of miles away…like tomorrow night.
“Drew?” Her voice is unsteady.
“Yeah?” I furrow my brows.
“What if…” She chews on her lower lip. “What if I’m not any good?”
“What do you mean?”
“At sex,” she whispers. “What if—”
I erase her worries with a kiss, simple but full. Then I look at her once more. “I don’t want you to think you have to be someone else just to make me happy. I’m happy with you as you. If you aren’t ready, I’ll wait. I’d never pressure you into something you’re not prepared for.”
“I want to. Really bad. I’m just worried I won’t be enough for you.” She lowers her head. “I’m not nearly as experienced as a lot of girls at school. Hell, Catherine had no problem whipping off her top when she had to strip, even though she still had two good shoes she could get rid of.”
“Hey.” I grip her chin, forcing her eyes to mine. My mouth inches toward hers, the pull she has on me too strong to ignore. “If I were interested in a girl like Catherine, I’d be with her right now. I’m not. I’m interested in you, and no matter what, it’ll be enough.” I wrap my arms around her, enveloping her as I kiss her forehead. “You’ll always be more than enough for me, Brookie.”
“I hope so, Dewy.”
We remain enclosed in each other’s embrace for a while before I reluctantly pull away. “You need to get some sleep,” I say, although the thought of leaving her is torture.