by Tessa Teevan
At the same time, I didn’t want to disappoint him. What if he wanted more? What if I wasn’t good at it? What if it made him want someone else?
I chastised myself for that last thought. Jeremy wasn’t like that. He loved me, and he was mine. I would be enough for him. I had to be.
And I was right. Nothing in our relationship changed except that we both found great joy in saying, “I love you.” It was my new favorite phrase. It’d been two weeks since he’d dropped the L-bomb on me, and I was still basking in it.
I was also getting a little impatient, wondering why Jeremy hadn’t even tried making a move. Jenna gave me unsolicited details of what she and Chris did, and they caused me to blush. The last time, she had told me about some trick she’d learned in a magazine. She’d looked at me pensively then apologized because she refused to ever hear about the things I did with her brother. I wouldn’t have had much to say, to be honest. Sure, we still made out all the time, but at that point, Jeremy’s hand had only errantly grazed my boob, having gone nowhere my pants. We’d been stuck on first base for far too long. And I’d found I wanted to change that sooner rather than later.
Now that he’d crawled through the window and was in my bed, it was time. His fingers toyed with my waistband, and I squirmed because I wanted him to touch me. I wanted to get to whatever base that was, and I wanted to touch him, too.
He wasted no time bringing his lips to mine. His kisses were more passionate than ever before. He was so determined, whispering promises of how good he wanted to make me feel as he peppered kisses along my jawline while his hand slipped underneath my T-shirt and caressed my bare skin.
My back arched and his hand rose while his lips captured mine again. Jeremy’s kiss was demanding, his mouth hungrily moving over mine. It was overwhelming, intense, and I wanted it to last forever. I also wanted more, and I was finally going to take it.
It’d started as every other night, but as our kisses turned feverish, I knew things were about to change. My hand came up to his, and he tried to pull away. I stopped him, and with my thumb and forefinger, I unbutton my jeans and pushed his hand down.
“Sierra?” he asked, sounding hesitant and unsure.
“Touch me, Jeremy. Please.”
As worked up as I was, I couldn’t help the nerves that fluttered as our hands gravitated towards each other. We’d been dancing around this, inching closer and closer to the physical point of no return, but until now, we’d always stopped before taking the plunge. No longer. Finally, we were on the cusp and there was no turning back. Not that I wanted to.
Sure, I’d gotten myself off with my hand before—Jeremy’d been onto something with that whole mouse-clicking thing. Not that I’d ever admit it to him.
But this was going to be different. Jeremy was going to touch me in the most intimate of places. And, in turn, I’d do the same for him.
His fingers descended, and my heart raced liked a drag car barreling down the track, reckless, wild, and without abandon. Yet, somehow, with absolute confidence in the speed at which I was going. My breathing turned rapid as they slid inside my panties. Then it caught as his thumb, for the first time, grazed my clit. My hips arched reflexively, forcing his thumb to press harder. Tingling between my legs ignited, spreading pleasurable sensations throughout my body like wildfire. Only this was one inferno whose flames I’d never wish to be doused.
“Sierra,” he whispered. The awe in his voice was nearly my undoing.
My eyes fluttered open to see him gazing down at me. Awe was apparent in his eyes. As was his desire.
I sucked my bottom lip in then reached my own hand out, cupping his length. His extremely rock-hard length. My eyes didn’t move down, but I touched him—tentatively at first. No turning back now.
My fingers made their exploration, slipping inside his shorts and finding the evidence of his arousal. He was achingly rigid, sinewy, and smooth all at the same time. A sweet contradiction of hard male heat and silken flesh. It was nothing like I’d imagined.
His eyes closed as his fingers made their way down, exploring me and taking in all I had to offer. They glided with ease until he was teasing my entrance, his fingers already slick with the evidence of my arousal. I’d read about women getting wet, but I’d had no idea it could happen so quickly.
I watched with fascination as his Adam’s apple bobbed once, then twice, as my hand began to move, familiarizing itself with him. It was my turn to be in awe. The way it twitched, grew, and jerked as I stroked him up and down, slowly at first.
“God, that’s amazing,” he groaned as my thumb skimmed the silky head of him.
A small gasp escaped me at the presence of sticky liquid I’d assumed was pre-cum. God, had I done that to him? Already?
His eyes opened, revealing a swirling storm of desire, heat, and pained restraint.
“Fuck, you feel good.”
My hips immediately arched towards his exploring fingers while my own hand matched his fluid movements. With each stroke, I was rewarded with the hard pulse of his arousal.
I knew mine mirrored his. Every nerve ending in my body was on fire. Our fingers moved in tandem, a perfect rhythm of exploration. The entire time his eyes held mine. It wasn’t long until we were both panting, both so close to the edge, both not wanting this to end. The tingling between my thighs was more intense than anything I’d ever felt before, and as my orgasm rose, I knew I’d never be the same again.
Jeremy had taken me to new heights, soared with me, and then we both went barreling over the edge.
The crash was so damn good.
Then I saw brilliant stars exploding in my vision.
I’d never be able to describe that feeling. The sensation was intense, overwhelming, and I was electrified. My blood was liquid gas setting me aflame. I’d never known I could feel this alive, this satisfied, this desired.
It was the most incredible experience in my life, and I wouldn’t have wanted it to be with anyone other than Jeremy Banks.
Our mutual pleasuring hadn’t lasted long, but when we were done, I didn’t feel shy or regretful. I felt amazing. I felt confident. And I wanted to see Jeremy up close. So I turned my bedside lamp on and took a long, hard look.
It wasn’t, of course, the first time I’d seen a penis, but it was the first time I’d seen one up close. It was…interesting. Big and thick, and even though he’d just come, he was still hard. After our blissful interaction, I took my time studying it up close.
“Have you ever measured it?” I blurted.
His face reddened. That gave me my answer.
“Well? How many inches, Jeremy?”
He refused to tell me, so what did I do?
I found a ruler.
When I returned, he made me wait until he was hard again. That didn’t take too long once I started stroking him again.
Jeremy completely hard?
Eight inches.
I didn’t think a girl could complain about that.
The way he’d just made me feel? My very first orgasm from another’s hand?
A girl couldn’t complain about that, either.
Eight motherfucking inches.
I mean, it wasn’t porn star length (don’t ask me how I know that), but I was pretty damn proud of the size of my dick. And by the way Sierra’s eyes lit up when she read the number, I could tell she was impressed.
For weeks it’d been killing me to keep my hands off Sierra. Sometimes when we were kissing, I had to stop because I was getting too aroused. But I didn’t want to push her too hard, too fast, so I held myself back.
When she shoved my hand down her pants, I nearly came on the spot. And then when she touched me? Her bare hand on my dick? It took about ten seconds before I was coming all over her hand.
Clearly, Mandy Simpson hadn’t broken me. I’d just needed the beautiful love of my life to be the one bringing me both to life and to fruition. I didn’t mind that I’d gotten off so quickly. It made it easier to turn my full attention to pleasuring Sierra.
When she was flushed, panting, and whispering my name as her inaugural orgasm racked through her body, I’d never been prouder.
It was another first, and I couldn’t wait to experience the rest.
Not that I’d ever push Sierra. In fact, we spent the rest of junior year learning each other’s bodies, but we never got close to actual sex. Not once.
I was completely okay with it. I was with the girl of my dreams, and I always would be. Sex would come when it did. Organically. When we were both ready. Until then, I’d be content with whatever I had.
With Sierra, I already had everything.
2002
“WHOSE DAMN IDEA WAS it to do an eighties-themed prom?” Jace groaned as he tossed the flyer on to the table in the lunch room. “The only thing I remember about that decade was my Uncle Ross’s mullet.”
“What’s the problem, Jace?” Jenna asked innocently. As head of the prom committee, she had come up with the idea. She and Chris had been coordinating their outfits for weeks already. “You don’t think Mallory will be able to pull off the big-hair look?”
He groaned again, and this time, I think it was for a different reason. He rubbed a hand over his face. During his year-long relationship with Mallory—ugh, yes, that Mallory—they’d run pretty hot and cold. I wasn’t sure what he saw in the girl, especially when he had Lexi.
Even though Sierra hadn’t let me play matchmaker with those two, they’d been virtually inseparable since they’d met two years ago. They were pretty much the less cool version of Sierra and me. And just like how blind Sierra and I had been, Jace and Lexi were equally as impaired. Anyone at school could see that they had the hots for each other, but instead of going for it, they both got into relationships with people they clearly weren’t that into. And those little nudges and pushes Sierra had promised? We’d never gotten the chance, but I was determined that, by graduation night, those two would finally lay it all on the line.
Speaking of. Lexi sat at the end of the table with her boyfriend, Aaron. The guy was on the wrestling team, and there was something about him I didn’t like. But Sierra had warned me to butt out, so I did. That didn’t mean I didn’t keep an eye on him or my ears open. If he hurt Lexi, he’d deal with me.
Chris drummed his fingers on the table and called out to me. I looked up and saw him staring at me with a shit-eating grin. He leaned forward and placed his elbows on table. This wasn’t a good sign.
“So I have an idea.”
Really not a good sign.
Jenna beamed beside him, and I could only imagine what Chris had come up with this time.
“Do I even want to know?” I asked as I searched for Sierra.
“Trust me.”
Those were famous last words if I’d ever heard them. “Okay. Lay it on me, Chris.”
He rose from the table and held his hands up, spreading them apart as he said, “Mullets.”
Pure confidence exuded from him, and satisfaction spread across his face. He clearly thought he was a genius.
“Mullets?” I asked before I took a sip of my soda.
“Mullets. It’s an eighties-themed prom. Like McAllister said, the thing everyone remembers from the eighties is the mullets. It’s our senior prom. Our last school dance. Shouldn’t we go out with a bang? I say we do it. The powder-blue suits. The Ruffled shirts. And the mullets. We have plenty of time to grow it.”
“You’re telling me that you want me to grow a mullet? You’re crazy, dude.”
In all honesty, though, I was intrigued by the idea. But I knew how Sierra would feel about it. She wouldn’t be down for her date having a business-in-the-front, party-in-the-back hairstyle.
“Dude, it’s not like I’m asking you to shave your head or anything. What? Are you chicken? Don’t think you can pull the look off? That’s a shame, Banks. A damn shame.”
“I can pull it off just fine, Chris. I’m just worried you can’t,” I said defensively. What the hell was he talking about? I could make a mullet look good.
“Then what’s the problem?”
I hesitated, and that’s when he went in for the kill.
He leaned closer and locked his eyes on mine. “If you do it, I’ll do it. Come on, Banks. I. Dare. You.”
And that was it.
I had to do it.
I was growing a mullet for prom. I just had to tell Sierra and live long enough to make it happen.
Gotta love little sisters. Apparently, word had traveled around school of what Chris and I were planning, and Lexi informed her sister before I could. Then Lexi was kind enough to warn me of the way Sierra’s eyes had flashed wild and her cheeks had reddened—she had been close to foaming at the mouth. I figured Lexi was exaggerating on that last part, but this was Sierra. I had to be prepared for anything, even though I was pretty sure she’d find it funny. At least, that’s what I thought.
“Jeremy. Jordan. Banks!” Sierra’s shriek echoed through the gazebo.
We still met there every night to walk on the beach and talk about our days even though we spent most of them together. It was our special place, and with the both of us going off to college in a few months, we wouldn’t be back there often. So we spent as much time there as we could together. Tonight, however, clearly wasn’t going to be as peaceful as usual.
I rose from the step I’d been sitting on and turned to greet her, bracing myself for her reaction.
“You have got to be freaking kidding me! Are you out of your mind?”
That’s what she led with as soon as she saw me. I winced at her incredulous tone.
She was usually laid-back, so this amount of wrath had been unexpected. When I stepped closer to her, her hands were placed firmly on her hips. She was glaring at me. Shooting daggers, even. But, fortunately, she wasn’t foaming at the mouth.
“Nice to see you, too, babe,” I said, giving her the grin that usually calmed her down. This time, however, it didn’t.”
“A mullet, Jeremy? Really?”
“I mean…it was Chris’s idea.”
“Do you do everything Chris tells you to do?” She waved a hand. “Don’t answer that. I already know you do.”
“Hey, he dared me to kiss you, and look how perfectly that turned out.”
That was a huge mistake. I knew this, when, her nostrils flared and her eyes flashed wild.
“He what?!”
“Sierra, you know about that. The night of the beach party.”
Maybe Lexi had been right. Sierra’s eyes were flashing wild, and if I could have seen her face better, there might have been some foam at the corner of her mouth.
“So you’re telling me that the only reason you kissed me that night was because Chris dared you?!”
I sighed. There was no way I was getting out of this. “No, of course not. The reason we kissed was because of the stupid game. And then, after we left the closet, he whispered in my ear, daring me to kiss you.”
“So, once again, you only kissed me because he dared you to?”
Someone could’ve handed me a shovel then. I was apparently in the mood to dig my own grave.
“Are you bleeding?” The words slipped out before I could stop them. I was usually really good in these types of situations. I was sort of a PMS-whisperer. I always knew what to do and say to make sure my head wasn’t ripped off by one of the three close girls in my life. And, typically, Sierra was the least hormonal.
Apparently, this was no longer the case.
“Did you seriously just ask me that?”
“Umm, no?” I replied innocently, hoping she’d think she’d heard me wrong.
She didn’t.
She crossed the distance between us and jabbed a finger into my chest. I wince at her hard poke.
“As a matter of fact, I am. What of it?!”
My hand rose and enclosed her little finger. I placed my other one on the small of her back and pulled her lower half into me. She stared up at me, and I hated when her eyes glistened with tears. So I leaned down and planted a ch
aste kiss on her forehead.
“I’m sorry, Sierra. I shouldn’t have said that.”
She sniffled, and I took it as a sign to keep going.
“Baby, we’ve been together for nearly three years. Best friends for much longer than that. I think you know how I feel about you. I love you more than I ever thought I could love anyone. And, every single day, I fall more in love with you. Is it true that Chris dared me to kiss you? Yes. It is. But he did it because he knew I’d been in love with you longer than I could even admit to myself. He knew I was too chickenshit, too scared to do it on my own. So he gave me that little push, and I fucking took it. And I’ve never looked back. I never will.”
“Chris knew before you did?” she asked, her voice shaky.
“I think everyone knew before we did, don’t you think?”
“True.”
Relief flooded my veins. “So you see why I can’t not accept Chris’s dares? And plus, it’s kinda perfect. We’ll be an authentic eighties couple.”
Even though she tried to frown, a small smile played on her lips. Her finger dug harder into my chest. “I am not going to my senior prom with some Billy Ray wannabe.”
I frowned and took a step back, clutching my chest and feigning horror. “I am not, nor will I ever want to be, Billy Ray Cyrus.”
She placed her hands back on her hips and raised an eyebrow at me. I stepped closer to her, and she stepped back.
“You can call me MacGyver.”
“No,” she answered firmly as she set her chin in defiance.
I closed the distance between us and grasped her waist, bringing her in closer. Then I dipped my head and whispered a kiss on her lips before moving mine to hover over her ear. “How about John Stamos?”
She shuddered as my breath tickled her ear, and I knew I had her. When I pulled away, she was struggling not to smile. Her hands slid up my chest and wrapped around my neck. She used her fingers to toy with my hairline as if she were trying to imagine what I’d look like with a mullet.
“John Stamos,” I whispered again, grinning down at her.
“I guess I can work with that,” she finally relented.