by Ashley Love
I don't want this to be over, I don't want it to be ruined, so I reach out and poke him. I poke him in his side and his eyes cut over to me and I try to mask my grin. His eyes shift to the ground again and we're approaching the cars slowly but surely and I playfully poke him again but he doesn't stop pouting.
I sigh, finally turning to him as we walk. "Stop pouting. So he called me a bitch. He didn't hurt my feelings."
His eyes don't leave the ground, his hands deep in his pockets. "No, that shit pisses me off, Leala. And you know that."
"Please don't ruin this, Lex," I plead quietly. I look down once again and keep walking but I feel him stop, and I take a few steps before I stop myself, turning slowly to look back at him. He shrugs a little, his eyes locked with mine, and I sigh when his face softens. I close the space between us, slipping my arms around his waist and looking up at him with a tight-lipped smile.
"Please just let it go," I say softly, my arms squeezing him around his waist gently and he cracks a smile. He dips his head a little and I pull back, giggling at the pout on his face, knowing how many times he's tried to kiss me tonight. It's almost a game now, me teasing him for once. "Hey...I'll race you back." I grin widely at him and push away from him playfully, taking a few quick steps before looking back and seeing that he isn't moving to follow me.
He groans. "I don't wanna race you to the fucking truck, Leala."
"Why not?" I ask innocently, walking slowly back toward him.
He eyes me up and down, eyes smoldering. "Because I wanna do something else."
I put my hands on my hips smartly and cock my head at him. "Like what?" I ask, but I know.
He smirks. "I think you know."
I grin a little because I love that he knows me so well sometimes. He reaches out to grab the sleeve of my jacket, tugging me toward him and I resist a little, laughing softly, shaking my head.
"I wanna kiss you," he confesses finally, pulling me into his arms, and I reach my hands up to cups his face, pushing at his jaw when I feel his nose brush mine.
"C'mon, Lex," I plead, wiggling out of his arms and skipping a few steps backwards, taunting him.
He rolls his eyes. "I'm not running back to the truck," he insists, his voice tightening as his face falls and he shoves his hands back into his pockets.
"Well you're gonna lose then," I tease, turning to jog slowly toward the rows and rows of vehicles, seeing his truck far away in the distance. I keep jogging, keeping my pace slow, waiting for him to play along, but when I look back I see him walking slowly, shaking his head. I sigh, giving up, and just start walking, disappointment rooting in my gut. I pass a few rows of cars, debating whether to stop and wait for him, when suddenly I see a flash rush past me.
My face lights up when he glances over his shoulder at me and I tear out into the rows of cars after him, dodging bumpers and side mirrors, my heaving breaths visible in the cold of the night, both of us laughing. I chase after him, rocks crunching against the pavement under my feet, the rhythm of our strides falling into sync as I catch up to him in the final stretch. We both reach a hand out to bump against his driver's side door, shouting out together, "I won!"
"No, I won."
"I beat you, Lex"
"Leala, I fucking won!"
"You did not."
"Well if you won, you fucking cheated."
"How did I cheat, Lex?"
"I dunno but you did...cheater." He adds the last jab with a smirk and I roll my eyes.
"Shut up." I giggle, reaching out to push against his chest, and he grabs my elbow roughly, pulling me in against him. My breath catches in my throat and my eyes snap up to his. He's looking back at me hungrily, and I swallow hard, nervously licking my lips before I feel his own lips press against them softly.
He doesn't pull away for two seconds before he's kissing me again, kissing me fucking hard, hands fisting my jacket and pushing me up against the door of his truck with a grunt. We're attacking each other, hands and lips frantic and needy, pent up want seeping out from every fucking inch of our skin. His hands skim up my chest to hold my face and I wrap my arms around his shoulders, pulling his body in hard against mine, unable to get enough of him, pressing my lips against his almost painfully, and I just want more and more.
His hands slide down and grip my hips, pinning them against the door and hre's pressing his dick against my crotch, his lips sucking and kissing mine, our tongues swiping, moans and pants lost and dying in each others mouths. He tugs on my bottom lip with his teeth, hands burning a warm trail down my thighs and back up, hips still pressing into mine, and I sneak a foot between his, pressing back into him.
"Jesus Christ, Leala," he breaths against my lips before claiming them again, forehead pressing against mine. I tighten my arms around his neck as his lips trail down my jaw, tongue dotting out against the skin of my neck.
I drag my hands down his back until I reach the hem of his jacket, tugging at the fabric. I slip my hands underneath against his skin and his lips find mine again, his hands opening my jacket to palm my breasts roughly over my shirt.
Shit, we have to stop.
A moan pulls from my throat, my fingers digging into the warm skin of his back and I come back to myself for a moment, roughly detaching my lips from his, our panting breaths rolling out in visible wisps against the cold air.
"We should go," I breathe, barely able to find my voice, and he nods.
"Yeah." He swallows hard and his hands slip from my chest, holding my hips gently as he catches his breath and our pulses slow, his lips already swollen from the assault.
Have you ever just wanted to jump someone's bones? I mean just hold them down and mercilessly have your way with them? Imagine sitting right next to the person you feel that way about. Neither of you speaking, neither of you looking at each other...
Welcome to the ride home.
Why I stopped kissing him, I'll never know. Probably because if I didn't stop, he wouldn't stop, and well, we'd still be going at it back in that parking lot. Or we'd be naked, screaming, writhing...
Okay, I need to stop. We can't do this. Sometimes I have these irrational unbridled fits of lust for Lex, but I mean it's not like I'm blind, and I know he's an asshole. But he's also a sexy motherfucker and even in my most rational mind I have trouble denying him physically.
We pull into the parking lot of my apartments and I'm not ashamed to say that I've been thinking about that kiss the entire way here. I am a little embarrassed to say, however, that I've been thinking way beyond that kiss. I've pictured myself in every compromising position that I can imagine. Bent over my couch, slammed against the hallway wall, twisted in the sheets of my bed, sprawled on the kitchen floor. Lex always behind me, on top of me, underneath me, inside me. I know, I know...shut up. I think I'm hormonal or something.
He kills the engine and we pause for a long second, just looking at each other across the front seat of his truck with silly grins plastered all over our faces. I giggle nervously, dropping my gaze to the floorboard as I fumble with my seatbelt until it clicks open and I free myself of it.
"Well, I guess I should...you know." I gesture out the window with my eyes, implying that I'm going to leave, but I can't budge an inch. I just want to sit with him, maybe talk some more, anything. I wring my hands absentmindedly, a testament of my nerves. "Thanks...you know, for taking me out." And he just keeps grinning at me.
"Yeah, I had a good time. It was good to see you." He reaches out to hold me at my elbow, his thumb stroking up and down my arm in a soothing gesture. I smile and nod at him, leaning over the arm rest to hug him, biting my lip as his hand that was on my elbow slides around to my lower back, and I fight the tremor that seeps deep into my bones.
I squeeze him tight around his shoulders, pressing my cheek to his and his hand comes up to cup the side of my face as I pull back. We stay there, face to face for a moment, and a wide grin spreads across his mouth, crinkling the skin just ou
tside of his eyes. His tongue reaches out to wet his lips as his thumb brushes across my cheek affectionately and his eyes study my face. God, here we go again...
"Goodnight." I hate the word. I hate it because it means this is over. But I don't move.
I swallow hard and just stare at him, not able to tear my eyes away, watching his grin slowly fade. His lips part just barely and I feel his breath on my face, his gaze darting nervously to my mouth and then back up to my eyes. I lick my lips and I feel him start to close the space between us, eyes widening a little as he stops and pulls back, looking into my own eyes, searching for permission. My gaze falls to his mouth, his lips open and waiting and wanting. Wanting it just as much as I want it and I start to tip forward but can't find the courage, hesitating and pulling back again with a sigh. Goddammit.
He finally breathes out a nervous laugh, shaking his head a little and his eyes leave mine uncertainly, tongue running along the inside of his mouth. God, why can't we just do this? His eyes meet mine again and he leans forward but simply presses his lips against my cheek, still holding the other side of my face with his hand, his nose brushing against mine as he pulls away. And that's all it takes.
We freeze, each blinking once before he pulls my face to his, capturing my mouth softly, sweetly, and his lips are full and soft and fucking perfect against mine. I reach for his shirt, rubbing my fingers down his chest before gently fisting the fabric in my hand, and he sighs against my mouth. He pulls back just slightly, opening his lips, and his nose brushes across mine as he tilts his head to the other side, pushing forward again, his long fingers sliding around to the back of my neck. I surrender. I fucking surrender as he closes his lips to mine again and then his mouth tugs on my bottom lip just barely as he pulls away.
We stare at each other and he presses his forehead to mine, both of us breathing heavy. My other hand comes to his shoulder and I fist his shirt, clutching him, wanting him, needing him.
He kisses me again suddenly before either of us can speak or think, and I open my mouth against his. He tastes new but familiar as his tongue pushes against mine and slips slowly over it, sliding leisurely in and out of my mouth. Our lips close and pull away but we both surge forward again, eyes closed, lost in it, lost in this...whatever it is. It's old but it's full of new feelings for me, new desires that I never felt with him before tonight, and I know it's because I'm clean now, thinking with a clear conscience. And yet I still want him so, so badly.
He's hauling me up and over the center console of his truck, strong hands pulling me onto his lap by my upper arms and his lips never leave mine. I straddle his lap on bent knees, his hands sliding down to my hips once I'm seated against him. I clutch the back of his neck, fingers curling in, my short nails scratching against the rough bristles at the base of his head.
I pant against his mouth as I pull back from his lips, my forehead still pressed to his, and I feel his hands skimming up my sides, fingertips disappearing underneath my shirt as the material bunches on top of his hands. He stops just beneath my breasts, his warm strong grip holding me at my ribcage. Then he pulls his head back to look into my face, eyes searching mine the same way they had just moments before he kissed me that first time. God, he wants this.
I know I shouldn't. I shouldn't want this, and I definitely shouldn't feel like I need this. And I absolutely shouldn't do it. I know I'm not supposed to.
There's a reason that they make rules about shit like this, and it's not just for torture purposes. I shouldn't be involved with anyone, that's what they told me. Not so much a rule as just a wise suggestion. And had they known anything about him, they would have definitely made it an unbreakable rule, and they probably would've stamped that rule on my forehead or tattooed it across my stomach. But they didn't, because I'm supposed to know what's right and good for me, and I should know better than to do this.
I should know better.
"We shouldn't." I say it before I can stop myself. Fuck.
He wraps his arms around me slowly, hugging me to his body, holding me against him. I sigh as I relax into him, relishing in the feeling of his breath on my neck, his nose pressed sweetly beneath my ear, our laps touching in a way that has both of us very aware. We're pretending to ignore the deliberate pressure in all of the right places, but in fact we are both very, very aware.
He holds me so close, as he licks his lips slowly. I can feel it against my cheek, and I take his face in both of my hands as I lean back from him slightly, his arms still circling me, pressing our bodies together in the most luscious way.
"Lex..." There's a warning tone to my voice. Shit, we should not do this, but his mouth closes to mine hastily, our lips rubbing and sliding, opening and closing against each others, tongues sneaking in and out to taste one another over and over. His arms circle me tighter all the while, pressing the softness of my body to the hardness of his. How can this be bad for me? How can this be something that I'm forbidden to do? Something this satisfying...
"I want you," he breathes against my lips before kissing them again. Kissing them and biting them and sucking on them and I can barely breathe, giving in.
Shit, I'm giving in to him.
I break from his lips and wiggle out of his arms, crawling over the center console and into the back seat of his truck. Fuck it, I can't wait any longer.
He doesn't move, and I watch him tip his head back, his shoulders slumping a bit as he sighs, waging the war inside of him, weighing the outcome. We both know this shouldn't happen, this can't happen, it won't work. God, we know it. How stupid can we be?
He turns his head slowly to look at me over his shoulder, and I can almost see the doubt in his eyes, the fear, the reluctance. We know better than this, don't we? those eyes are telling me. He wants me to tell him it's okay, he needs me to tell him I want this. I lower my head to him, biting my lip just slightly, silently responding, making my wager. I know...but just this once, my eyes tell him back.
His tongue slips out to wet his lips and he takes the bottom one between his teeth, eyes cast down in contemplation. And he crawls into the back seat.
My hands are on him in an instant, clutching the back of his head as his lips crash against mine, and he sits back against the seat, taking me into his lap again. His hands work my shirt over my head and I shiver at the sensation of his knuckles and the backs of his hands grazing my bare skin on the way up. With slightly trembling hands I reach behind my back to unclasp my bra as he leans his weight over me and swivels around to lay me back flat on the seat, our bodies stretching from door to door in his truck.
He settles his weight between my open legs as I bend my knees up, sliding my feet out of my shoes before resting them against the inside of the door. He leans back onto his knees as he rips his shirt off over his head, and then he falls back over me, bracing himself on straight arms on either side of my head. My mouth locks onto his neck and I run my hands down his shoulders and over his chest, fingertips grazing over his warm skin. I don't ever remember him feeling this warm and smooth.
I lay my head back against the seat and watch my hands travel down his body, circling his nipples with my fingers, splaying them wide across his ribcage, curving my fingers in slightly as they drag over every bump, every groove of his slim torso. I look up to find him watching me. Watching me watch myself as I touch him.
My hands circle around and smooth up the expanse of his naked back, wide and strong between his shoulders. His lips are on mine again, moaning softly against my mouth. His hips press into mine, pushing into me with want, thick and hard beneath the rough denim of his jeans and I just want them off so I can feel him.
He breathes against my mouth as he pushes against me again and a whimper creeps up thin and breathy from my throat. I pant into his neck as he holds his hips hard against mine, pinning me down on the seat, rotating and rolling into me slowly, and I know he's thinking about being inside of me, because I am. I grab at his back, pressing my lips to his, sucking h
is tongue against my own, and I can feel him, God I can feel him right there against me. I cross my ankles at his lower back, rubbing against him and pushing my hips up while I pull his down. We're not even naked but it feels so good.
Our mouths part with a loud sucking noise. "Damn," he pants and I still my hips as my mind clears for just a moment, and I come back to myself, taking in the severity of what's about to happen. But he keeps pressing into me.
"Lex...we shouldn't..." I release my legs and run my hands down his sides, holding his hips, pushing back on them a bit, and he gives me a questioning look.
"Come on, Leala. You got my dick all hard and now you wanna quit on me?" He grins at me, leaning down to kiss my neck, sucking on it lightly.
"I just don't know if I'm ready." My voice is a bit strangled in my throat. It's like my body is physically trying to keep me from saying the words, keep me from saying no to him. I want this, I need this, that ache inside of me is crying out. But I know it's not right. Not tonight, not this soon.
"It's just like before. We've done it a hundred times, baby," he moans against my ear, but that unsettling feeling just won't leave me. I know I'm not ready.
"It's not like before, Lex...please..." I shift underneath him, but he just presses into me again, bumping his hips against mine. A soft moan slides up from my chest, my skin flushing hot, my clit throbbing for him. My body is saying one thing while my mind says another. This is so fucked up.
"You know you want to," he whispers against my cheek before lifting his head to look into my eyes. "That little pussy has been empty for three months, and you got this hard dick just waiting to get inside. Don't tell me your body's not aching for it...I know mine is." He pushes his lips against mine hungrily before I can utter another word and I know I can't fight him. I've never been able to fight him.
He works on my jeans, flicking the button open with ease and he barely has the zipper down before he's hurriedly pushing them off of my hips along with my panties, tugging them off over my feet. My hands shake as I work on his fly at a snails pace, unbuttoning and dragging the zipper down almost reluctantly, because I know this shouldn't be happening. But he becomes impatient with me, opening his pants and slipping himself out, long and hard over his boxers.