Under Pressure (Lessons Learned Book 1)

by Smartypants Romance

  I dissolve into a fit of giggles and he returns to the bed, climbing over me to nuzzle his nose in the crook of my neck. I tilt my head to the side, loving his big body on top of me, his hands running through my hair, the two of us together like this, relaxed and happy.

  His dick brushes against my thigh and I nearly groan at the thought that it’ll soon be inside me. I run my palms down his back, caressing him, and whisper, “Do you have a condom?”

  He jerks upright, eyes wide. “Oh, shit.”

  “What, you don’t have one? I can probably steal one out of Kelsey’s room.”

  He sits back on his haunches, running a hand through his hair. “No, I have one in my wallet. I just… can’t believe I forgot.”

  I look at him, confused. “We haven’t needed one yet.”

  “I didn’t even think about it. Or if you’re on the pill.” It seems like he’s talking to himself more than me, though.

  “I am,” I tell him, but he barely acknowledges it, still introspective. Unsure what to do, I lie there for a moment longer, then ask, “Are you going to get the condom?”

  “What?” He turns his head to me, like he’s finally seeing me. “Yeah, yeah.”

  What is going on with him? “We don’t have to, you know. If you’re not into it.”

  He looks down at his dick, fully erect. “I’m into it,” he says dryly. “Sorry.” He tilts forward to lay a light kiss on my lips, then leans over the side of the bed to grab his wallet and the condom out of his jeans pocket. He rolls it on with quick movements, then settles himself between my thighs, sliding his hand behind my neck, kissing me deliciously. “You just made me forget myself for a second there.”

  “I didn’t know I had that kind of effect on you,” I tease, running my palms over his shoulders.

  I expect him to smile in return, but he doesn’t. His muscles go rigid under my hands, his blue eyes turning frosty. “This is just sex.”

  I lean away, taken aback by his abruptness. “I know.”

  He bounds off the bed in one sleek movement, pacing back and forth across the room. He runs his fingers through his hair till it’s standing on end, then returns to me, kneeling on the floor, laying his head down on his arms on the bedspread briefly before looking up at me. His eyes are trying to convey something, but I can’t tell what. “I don’t want there to be any expectations.”

  “Like…” I gesture with my hand for him to explain further.

  He releases a sigh, grabbing at a fistful of his hair. “Tonight at my parents’ house, things got really… familiar,” he says uneasily. “I don’t want you to have the wrong idea.”

  “I get it,” I tell him, sitting up and turning away, a stab of unjustified hurt running through me. “We’re not dating. You’ve made that abundantly clear.”

  His touch is featherlight on my back, the mattress dipping down as he crawls across to reach me. He presses soft kisses to my neck, his arms wrapping around my waist from behind. “I just want to make sure we’re on the same page.”

  I contain a rush of shivers that wants to break out over my skin as he continues to brush his lips over the sensitive area. “Why do you think I’m so desperate for you?” I arch into him even as I say it, needing to get closer.

  He widens his knees and scoots me back into him, my back flush against his front. “Aren’t you?” he asks cockily.

  I bring my arms up until my hands meet his head and lazily sift through his hair, his fingers tightening on my waist in response. “I think you’re the one desperate for me.” I nudge my ass against his still hard cock, wedged between my backside and his stomach.

  He groans, “Yeah, right,” even as he leans me forward and thrusts his hips so his dick rubs against the cleft of my ass.

  “Then you wouldn’t care if we stopped all this—”

  “Get over here,” he growls, picking me up and tossing me flat on the bed, his big frame coming up to cover me. He kisses me ravenously, his hands roaming each inch of my body, staking their claim.

  I wrap my legs around his waist, drawing him closer until he surrounds me, every one of my senses consumed by this man. The weight of him on top of me, his warm skin underneath my fingertips as I interlace my fingers behind his neck, a smell of musk in the air from how turned on we both are.

  I’m aware he doesn’t want anything more than the physical and I’m… okay with that. What other option do I have? I don’t want to miss out on the way he kisses me like he can’t get enough, the way his hands press insistently into my skin, the detail and dedication he puts into making sure I feel good.

  If only his words matched the way his body reacts to me.

  His hips rock against mine until the tip of his dick slides into me, my pussy already wet from his attention on it earlier.

  “Do you want this?” he asks, pausing. His face is set in a serious expression as he looks down at me. He carefully tucks a curl behind my ear, deliberate in his actions, then lets his hand trail down my body. Over my breasts, skimming my navel, until it reaches where I want it most, dipping inside to find my clit. “Tell me you want this,” he says, his eyes fierce on me.

  I buck against the pressure, his cock slipping in even more with my movement. “I want this,” I breathe, angling my hips up to give him better access.

  He slowly feeds himself in until he’s settled all the way, giving me time to adjust to his size, and bends his head down until his face is in my hair. He takes a long inhale and exhale, his breath warm against my skin. “Fuck, you feel good.”

  He begins to move within me, shallow strokes that complement his still slow movements on my clit. “You feel good too.” Under other circumstances, I could come up with something a whole lot more descriptive, but most of my brain cells are occupied at the moment.

  I close my eyes, trying to concentrate on conveying how much I love this, even as he increases his pace. “The way you fill me up, the way you rub me. I’ve never been with someone so attuned to making sure it’s good for me too. You’re so generous.”

  His rhythm falters and I open my eyes to find him staring at me. “I’m not generous.” He looks at me like I said something nasty.

  I run my hands over his pecs, soothing him. “It’s a compliment.”

  He shakes his head. “I-I’m selfish. I take what I want.” He settles a hand on my hip, using it as leverage to pump harder, but his grip is never bruising, never painful.

  I reach my arms above me to brace myself against the headboard, eyes nearly rolling in the back of my head with how deep he is, hitting some spot within me I wasn’t aware existed.

  I collect enough of my wits to ask him, “Then why’d you go down on me? There’s nothing in it for you.”

  “Sure there is,” he pants, face set in concentration, those blue eyes burning with heat. “It gets you revved up for the main event.” He bends down, whispering in my ear, “And you taste fucking delicious.”

  Oh God, I think my ovaries just burst.

  He pulls out of me and I’m about to protest until he flips me over on my hands and knees, settling himself behind me, entering me slowly. “I decide what we do. How fast or slow you’re fucked.” I glance over my shoulder at him. His actions belie his crude words as he gently caresses my hips, moving in and out of me with care. Is he trying to convince me or himself?

  “Whatever we do is because I want it.” He punctuates this with a strong thrust of his hips that has me moaning. “Because I’m greedy.” Another thrust, and this time I brace myself, taking all of him.

  He settles into a steady rhythm, positioning himself so he’s leaning over me, his left hand braced beside my own on the bed, his torso covering my back so I’m surrounded by him. My body moves in unison with his, completely at his mercy, loving everything he’s giving me. I can’t suppress my whimpers any longer, my limbs trembling with the effort it takes to stay upright.

  “I want you to come, Mia,” he whispers in my ear, his voice like a narcotic, lulling me into a state of bliss I g
ladly sink into. “I’m going to bring my hand around and stroke your clit. Then you’re going to come for me. Understand?”

  I nod frantically, unable to speak.

  He slides his right hand slowly down my body, snaking it around my belly until it reaches that crucial area. I strain toward it, tilting my hips so he’ll reach it faster, but he denies me, returning his hand to my waist, putting me back in place.

  “I decide when,” he murmurs silkily, his warm breath on my neck sending shivers down my spine.

  I nod in compliance, closing my eyes, waiting for his hand to descend again, and when it does, I almost cry out in relief as he finally makes contact, rubbing me softly right where I need him.

  I let out a choked sob as the orgasm overtakes me, his movements still steady, and when I’m finished, he lets loose, widening his knees and grasping my hips as he pours himself into me.

  I drop to my elbows, tilting my ass up to take him, my body overheated, overworked, but I’d gladly do it all again to feel this buoyant, this light, my heart singing. The sound of his satisfaction, harsh grunts interspersed with my name, is like music to my ears, but I don’t dare mention it to him later for fear he’ll deny it. But we’ll both know I made him call out my name. That as much as he wants this to just be sex, there’s more to it than that.

  Don’t go down that road. That way lies pain.

  Let me have this while I can, imagine something more between us while we’re still connected, his hands on me, restlessly roaming my body.

  Because all too soon… it’ll be over.

  I wake in the morning, cold and alone in my bed, my body deliciously sore, but my heart aching along with it.

  I don’t know why I’m disappointed. He gave me a night of the best sex I’ve ever had. The way he filled me, used my body, made me come twice in one night, which has never happened… I should be happy, right?

  He’s a friend with benefits, not a boyfriend. Stop expecting him to treat you as anything more. He doesn’t want you like that.

  I inhale and exhale slowly until I feel more in control, and go out into the kitchen to get breakfast.

  As I’m pouring my granola cereal into a bowl, the front door opens, Kelsey doing the walk of shame at nine in the morning, not that she’s ever probably felt anything close to shame. Her short skirt rides up as she bends down to take off her heels, mascara flaking off in chunks underneath her eyes.

  “Did you have a good night?” I ask, adding almond milk to my bowl.

  “The guy couldn’t even make me come,” she scoffs. “It’s like he had no clue what was going on down there. Come on, it’s not that hard to figure out.”

  I press my lips together tightly. “Sorry it was a bust.”

  “How was your party thing with Tyler?” She walks over to the thermostat, punching at the buttons. I don’t know why she just doesn’t wear more clothes. Or move to Florida or something.

  “It was good.” And it was. The party. The sex. Everything.

  So why am I bummed?

  “Now there’s a guy who looks like he knows how to make a girl come. Please tell me he does.”

  I almost choke on my bite of cereal. “Kelsey, we’ve never talked about my, um, partners before.” It’s always her who has something to say.

  “That’s because you’ve never dated anyone hot before. The way you went on about his voice last year, I thought he was another one of your dorky crushes.”

  I actually had thought that too until I’d finally gotten a glimpse of him. But it was him I liked more than just how he looked.

  I ignore the insult and remind her, “We’re not dating.” No matter how much I might secretly wish otherwise.

  “Oh, right.” She pulls her phone out of her purse and heads off to the bathroom. “Hey, will you make me some French toast while I shower?”

  I glance down at my cereal bowl, nearly empty now. “I’m almost done with breakfast.”

  “Yeah, but you make the best French toast,” she begs, putting her hands in a prayer position in front of her.

  “I—” I automatically go to agree, then pause. “No, I don’t feel like it.”

  She stares at me for a moment, then cocks a hip, placing her hand on it in a sign of outrage. “Seriously? You can’t do this one thing for me?”

  One thing? Is she the one who’s being serious right now? I practically make all her meals for her and she’s going to get on my back about not doing it a single time? I won’t even eat any of it since I’m full.

  I swallow my words before I say something I regret and tell her instead, “Sorry, I have plans,” before rinsing out my bowl and placing it in the dishwasher.

  She makes a scoffing noise and turns away, slamming the bathroom door behind her.

  Sorry that she’s sexually frustrated, but I’m tired of doing everything for her. I go into my own room, secluding myself in here for the day with my Classical Mythology textbook. Maybe reading this will take my mind off both Kelsey and Tyler.

  A girl can only deal with so much.

  Chapter Eighteen

  Tyler

  “Today, we’ll be working on progressive muscle relaxation, from the bottom of the body up,” Mia tells Angelique, the third participant of the day in the biofeedback-only group. “We’ll breathe in and tense the muscles in your lower legs and feet, hold for a count of five, then breathe out and relax those same muscles for ten seconds.”

  She adjusts a couple of the electrodes placed on the girl and continues, “I want you to take notice of how your body feels tense versus relaxed. And then when you’re out in the real world, try to bring back that same sense of awareness so you can identify when you’re feeling stressed and can better self-manage it.”

  I find myself following along as they go through each set of muscles, rather than inputting the responses of my physical activity and control group that I haven’t done yet. There’s something about her voice as she leads Angelique through the exercise that’s so calming, so soothing, it’s hard to reconcile with the girl I watched scream my name Saturday night, back bowed, utterly lost in her pleasure.

  I’d tried my best to convince her there was nothing about me that was generous, but the way she had looked at me with such trust in her eyes, first lying beneath me, then glancing over her shoulder as I’d ridden her from behind, I could barely stand it. I don’t inspire that kind of loyalty.

  I’d had to position her so I wouldn’t have to look into that trusting face anymore, but it hadn’t helped. I couldn’t just focus on her body, only use it as an instrument to get us both off. She’d made me really experience it, revel in it, appreciate it all in a way I hadn’t done before. Watching how she’d quivered under my touch, her inner muscles gripping me tight as she’d broken apart, drawing out my own orgasm… was it any wonder I found it all too personal?

  She’d seemed disappointed when I said I had to leave, but I couldn’t stay there any longer. She was too tempting. A representation of everything I don’t want in my life.

  So why do I find myself constantly drawn to her?

  I turn back to my computer screen, ignoring Mia’s soothing therapist voice and continue inputting the data. After she’s finished with her last session, I pack up quickly before she can suck me into a conversation that’ll end with me even more under her spell, but she packs her bag hurriedly too, saying she needs to get to a new tutoring client who only has room in her schedule to meet right now. We head down the flight of stairs together and out of the building, parting ways where the sidewalk splits, toward campus or the parking lot.

  I have a shift at the computer lab tonight, so there’s not much use in driving home, only to come back an hour later. I’ll just grab something to eat as I walk over there.

  “See you Thursday,” she calls out as she power-walks toward her car. “Text me if you want to do anything tomorrow night.”

  I raise my hand to let her know I heard her, but don’t respond. The urge to agree to any kind of meetup is too strong. I
need to minimize how often I hang out with her outside of the lab or bedroom. Anything else is blurring the lines. She’s become a part of every facet of my life. The research study, school, family, the gym. Maybe even the bedroom is too much.

  “You didn’t have to lie to me.”

  I startle, turning around to find Lainie, my last hookup from a few months ago before Mia. Why are all these girls suddenly coming out of the woodwork? “What?” I ask, at a loss for what she’s referring to.

  “About not doing relationships or whatever. You could have just said you weren’t interested in me. I’m so tired of guys lying.”

  I fully focus on her, wondering why she’s even here. Is she a psych major too? I met her at a Halloween party Ethan took me to last semester. “What are you talking about? I never lied to you.”

  “You and Mia.” She points in the direction of the parking lot to where Mia just walked away and I instinctively glance back, though she’s out of sight by now.

  “What about me and Mia?” I shake my head. “Wait, how do you even know her?”

  “We had Cognitive Psych together last semester. She’s the only person who got an A, everyone knew her. And you said you didn’t date anyone. Is it because she’s smart? Because, you know, I’m smart too—”

  I hold up a hand, cutting her off. “We’re not dating.”

  “Oh.” She looks taken aback. “It just looked like—”

  “It doesn’t matter what it looked like, because it’s not anything. We’re working on a research study together.”

  I push past her, suddenly edgy. Who the hell is she to show up out of nowhere and confront me like that? Just because she happened to catch Mia saying bye to me? Like I owe her any kind of explanation after we hooked up once, four months ago? I was very clear to her it was a one-time deal. She said she was fine with that before we started, though she pressed for more afterward.

  More than one person gets out of my way as I trek over to the cafeteria to get food, my anger manifesting itself around me. This is exactly what I was afraid of. Mia and I are too entwined. I need to find a way to separate us.