Intense 2

by Hebert, Cambria

  “I want you to stay,” he said.

  “Why?” I said, aching to touch him.

  “Look at me, Dovey.”

  I tore my eyes from his manhood, blushing.

  His eyes burned. “There’s a sense of urgency in my head. Like our time is limited.”

  I nodded. Yeah, same here.

  “And, I’ll be honest, I don’t want to rush you, but I’m dying to sink into you. I want to set you on fire with need for me.” He ghosted his hands over his cock. Once, twice, and…he didn’t stop.

  Oh, me.

  “You can stay for a kiss,” he murmured.

  “You’re all about the bargaining, aren’t you?”

  “Kiss me again, Dovey.”

  “That’s a terrible idea. Cause you’re naked, and I’m turned on because you’re naked. And you’re touching yourself. And again, you’re naked.” I sucked in a sharp breath. “Not a good combo. Odds are we’ll end up in that shower together or back in your bed doing the double-backed monster.”

  “Do you want to join me in the shower?” he said, his amber eyes searing me.

  I shook my head. Liar, liar, pants on fire.

  “Because we can. And we’ll just shower. If that’s all you want, of course?” His hands still kept up the routine he had going.

  Stop, I wanted to say, but I didn’t really want him too.

  “No,” I said, my voice weak.

  “Want me to carry you to bed then?”

  “That sounds super romantic, but no.”

  He grinned. “I’m dying to put my hands on you right now. Anyway I can.”

  “And do what?”

  He laughed low. “Dovey, it won’t be to tuck you in. I think we both know that. Things are moving fast here.”

  “What do you mean?”

  He sent me a sly grin. “You want me to describe what I’ve dreamed about doing to you? That every day when you sit in front of me in class, I think about bending you over that desk. That every day when I see you in the hall, I want to pull you in an empty room and kiss you until you can’t breathe. But it’s more than just sex. It’s a need to be near you. Because you make me lighter, like everything’s going to be okay if we’re together. You make me horny and happy all at the same time.”

  My hands dug into the wall. Not exactly poetry but it make me want to toss him down on the floor and fuck his brains out. And I was a freaking virgin!

  I groaned. I really did need to get out of this bathroom.

  “Kiss me again,” he said, this time with a little more bite to it. Sweet Cuba was long gone. Bad boy had taken up residence.

  And like I was his marionette, I obeyed his command and went to him.

  He met me half-way. “Why do I feel like you’re going to get scared and disappear?” he ground out, threading his fingers though my damp hair, clutching it until I felt a tinge of pain, but it was the best kind.

  “Don’t run from me again,” he said and kissed me, starting hard and deep.

  He spread kisses across my collarbone, up my neck, and to my face. His hands wrapped around my shoulders, his tongue traced the curves of my ear. And even though we’d kissed earlier, it felt like a hundred years ago. I swayed from the need, the desire, all of it making me loose-legged and disoriented.

  “Tell me,” he whispered between kisses.

  I arched my body, trying to get closer. “What?”

  His mouth worked its way to my chest, his hands on my hipbones, pulling me tight against him. I was putty in his hands. “Tell me you feel this too. Tell me I’m not the only one who is dying from the want of you.”

  Without answering, my kisses went wild, on his chest, grazing and then biting his nipples, then trailing down to his navel. He was the vast unknown, and I wanted to mark the territory as all mine. He encouraged me with sexy phrases about how much I turned him on, about the things he wanted to do to me. I told him to touch me too, and he did, his hands mapping my body, learning my curves, hooking his fingers in my panties.

  I froze.

  “Dovey,” he groaned, pressing a kiss to my shoulder. “You’re not ready.”

  He heaved a deep sigh, his hands falling away from my hips.

  “It’s my inexperience, isn’t it?” I said. “You like those older girls better.”

  He looked bewildered. “No. I love that about you. I just want your first time to be what you want and not what I want.”

  Somehow he was nothing like what I’d thought.

  He pressed a quick kiss to my mouth, the kind that cools things down. “But you don’t have to go. Stay with me.”

  “Alright.”

  He stepped into the shower and let his head fall back into the spray, the water glistening down his skin. His arousal never went down and I waited, oh I waited for him to take care of it, but he didn’t. I pleaded with my eyes for him to touch himself, to let me see how his face looked when he came, but he resisted. His eyes gleamed at me through the glass doors wickedly, and I got what he wanted me to realize, and it was titillating.

  Because he denied himself for me.

  He was waiting for me.

  Later, after he’d toweled off, we eventually crawled into his cool sheets. We spooned and gazed out at the rising sun as it peeked through his venetian blinds.

  “When I make you mine, I want it to be out under the moon and stars,” he said quietly, wrapping his muscled arm against my waist. His bare chest was warm, and I burrowed into him. “Maybe at my lake house.”

  He kissed the back of my neck. “There’s this huge deck that juts out from my bedroom. I’m going to put a giant sleeping bag out there, and you won’t even know we’re outside. Trust me.”

  I pictured that in my mind and clung to it.

  I sighed, gazing at the light peeking in the window. “It’s daylight, and I’m not even tired.”

  Then, the next thing I knew, I was on my back with his hands on either side of my face.

  And he said the one thing that blew me away.

  It took me up into the heavens, dropped me and I spiraled down, afraid of crashing but having no way to stop.

  “Don’t you see what’s going on? Dovey, we don’t need sleep…because we’re falling in love.”

  THE FOLLOWING MONDAY Spider returned to school after being sick with the flu for a week. Between detention, a band trip he’d taken, and then being sick, he’d missed most of it, so I fill him in on everything that had happened between me and Cuba.

  “I think I’m falling for him,” I stated baldly to Spider at lunch in the cafeteria.

  “You can’t trust him.” Then he proceeded to tell me a story of a girl who’d graduated a few years ago that Cuba still hooked up with periodically when she was home from college. Marissa somebody.

  “He’s different,” I said. “Sometimes people will surprise you.”

  But I got antsy. I kept glancing over at Cuba, but he hadn’t noticed me yet. He was in the lunch line with Emma and April, each of them giggling at something he’d said.

  Okay, okay, nothing to get riled up about. He just hadn’t seen me yet, that’s all.

  Spider watched along with me. “He’s a dog,” he warned me, his face tight with worry.

  “Takes one to know one,” I poked.

  “I’m not the one trying to get in your knickers. He is.”

  “He had his chance and didn’t take it.”

  Silence. And more silence. His face reddened, and he gathered up his lunch hurriedly, slamming his books into his backpack.

  “Oh, come on, don’t be mad. You’re overreacting. I’ve watched you fall on your face plenty of times with girls. Why can’t I talk to you about what’s going on with me?”

  “You’re one of the smartest girls I know, yet he’s leading you on. Bloody ridiculous.”He shook his head at me like I was a lost cause and stalked out of the cafeteria.

  Cuba sat down then, a soft smile on his face, and I forgot about Spider—and the doubts he’d planted.

  Later, in the midd
le of pulling on my legwarmers after dance, tingles skipped up my spine. Someone was watching me. I walked over to the large window that took up most of the room on the west side of the building. There he stood, leaning against a tree, feigning nonchalance.

  He pointedly looked at his watch and raised his shoulder at me, asking how much longer. I grinned widely and held up my hand for five minutes. Once out of his sight, I rushed around the room like a mad woman, trying to finish dressing and get out to him. I pulled on a jacket and jerked my hair out of its bun.

  Then I burst out the door, straight into his warm arms.

  “You’re so beautiful,” he murmured, making me blush. “I can’t wait to see you dance Swan Lake someday.”

  “Someday,” I repeated, feeling a sense of foreboding.

  “What?” he asked.

  I shook my head. “Nothing really. It’s just I never say that word anymore. Someday. It’s too vague, and I’m afraid whatever I’m referring to will never come true.”

  He gave me a quizzical look, not getting it.

  How could he? Didn’t he have everything he wanted?

  He tugged on me. “Come on, I want to show you something.”

  “What?”

  “Something special.”

  We walked across the quad, and he stopped at the athletic center to grab some towels. Hmmm, someone had plans.

  We left there, and he led me to the barn, an older building used to house the horses for BA’s equestrian department. I’d never ventured out this far from the quad, but I knew other students had. Stories of sex in-between classes and drinking were well documented about the place. Who knows if it was true or not, but he seemed he know his way around. Yeah.

  He found an unlocked side door, and we made our way inside the deserted building, passing the horses in their stalls. Once we’d climbed the steps to one of the lofts, he pulled out a flashlight, and I gazed around, seeing the names of lovers scribbled on the wall. Some had been carved into the wood, but others had been written with markers. I was surprised BA hadn’t painted over it yet, but well, this building was nearly off campus.

  He produced a sharpie from his pocket.

  “You want this?” he asked, giving me a teasing smile.

  I had to smile. “And you just happened to have a sharpie?”

  His eyes lowered, lingering over my breasts, my legs. “You’re mine. Is it stupid that I want everyone else to know it?”

  “No.” But I didn’t take the pen, and it felt like a test I was failing. Why didn’t he write our names on that wall?

  He tucked the pen back in his pocket.

  “How many times are you in here?” I asked. I’d counted six.

  He seemed embarrassed. “I’ve never written one word in here.”

  Good.

  Then he spread the towels out on the ground and sat down, patting the floor. I went to him willingly, and we kissed, the heat from our bodies warming up the cool air. His lips were fire, his tongue a flame, igniting me. My hands learned his muscles, discovering the power I had over him. He moaned, putting my hands where he wanted them, teaching me things I didn’t know.

  He mapped out my skin reverently with his hands and his tongue followed. My body screamed for him, needing something I didn’t understand, but he did. He gentled our kisses, slowing us down, his face tense with need. “Not here,” he whispered against my lips. “Wait for the stars and moon.”

  And inside that old barn at BA, I lost all sense of who Dovey was and fell for him all the way and completely.

  Just a simple girl, really, in too deep with a boy way out of her league.

  What else could I do but fall in love?

  How was I to know that after two more soul-shaking weeks, it would all come crashing down around me?

  I got yanked back to the here and now by two things: one was the huge slushy ice puddle I’d stepped in and the other was by a vehicle that passed. I looked around at the empty street. How long had I been aimlessly walking through the snow? My gloveless hands were so cold I couldn’t feel them anymore. I needed to get to my car.

  The car that had driven past me stopped and then started backing up. I squinted through the snow, but it was too dark to see who it was. Definitely not Spider since he had the SUV.

  Part of me wanted it to be him so I could yell at him for tossing me out.

  I shook my head and hitched my bag up more, preparing myself to take off running across the grounds if I had to. No way was I getting in that car. Not even if it were a limo with heat blasting at one hundred degrees Fahrenheit. I considered running back to Spider’s, but my car was closer.

  I walked faster.

  The car parked on the side of the street, and a tall man snapped open his car door and got out, his movements full of purpose. He stalked toward me.

  Oh. What was he doing here?

  “You shouldn’t be out here wandering around. It’s too cold,” Cuba said. “Let’s get you inside.”

  My adrenaline kicked in and suddenly I wasn’t tired anymore. I was mad. He didn’t know what cold was. Not with his Porsche and ridiculously giant house. And he actually thought I would get in a car with him after all the things he’d told me at the restaurant, about him and all the girls he’d binged on after me. And Emma.

  “Dovey?”

  “Go away. I liked it better when we weren’t speaking.” I gritted my teeth and turned my back to him, walking the other way. So what if my car was the other direction. I’d figure it out later.

  I heard footsteps behind me, so I went faster, putting more space between us.

  “Wait,” he called.

  “Leave,” I said into the wind. “Go fuck some girl.”

  “Dovey, get in the car. Now,” he shouted.

  But I couldn’t. Not with him.

  He’d destroyed me when he’d discarded me. And tonight, remembering how good we’d been, all that old heartache and despair had come roaring back to the forefront.

  I turned my fast walk into a jog, but the ground was slippery, slowing me down.

  He caught up with me, putting his hand on my shoulder to stop me. I jerked out of his reach and took off flying for the quad, slipping crazily in the snow but somehow not falling.

  I ran past the dance building, putting my all in it. With more stamina than a normal girl, I had a chance.

  But if he caught me? I might cry in front of him. I might give in to all these crazy feelings I had. I might say something I’d regret. I might tell him about the drugs.

  I pumped my arms harder.

  Snowflakes blew in my eyes as I made it through the stone gates that led to the quad. Huge oak trees greeted me and I zoomed past them. Running, running, running. My breath gushed in and out as I powered on. Hope sprang when I saw headlights on the next street over. It gave me a little extra…

  He tackled me, and I went face first to the ground, my nose and mouth eating snow and dirt. He grunted and flipped me over, but I was ready, lashing out at him with my hands, punching and slapping, trying to weasel away from him.

  I bucked my hips to get him off me. He flayed around on top of me but still managed to grab my hands around the wrist. Sitting on my legs, he pushed my arms up around my head, making me into a T.

  I yelled and flailed and shoved with my body, but he wasn’t going anywhere.

  He knew it and I did. I wasn’t his first take-down. I wouldn’t be his last.

  “What the hell is wrong with you,” he said in a ragged voice. “Are you insane? I just wanted to help you.”

  I contorted my body and twisted my head so I didn’t have to meet his gaze.

  “Get off me!” I screamed.

  My philosophy is to usually hold it all in, but how could I when Sarah had borrowed money, I carted around drugs, Emma was pregnant, and now Spider? It was too much. My life was spiraling out of control, and like a 747 in a tailspin, I was going down, down.

  Emotion bubbled and swelled and finally erupted, and I screamed long and hard, the sound s
plitting into the silence of the night. And when that was over, I covered my face, not wanting him to see. Oh, and I tried to hold back the tears, but it didn’t work. Hot and wet and unwelcome, they coursed down my cheeks, proving that I’d finally broken.

  He wrapped me in his arms and because I was not myself, I let him.

  He’d let me hit him too. I didn’t know what to think about that.

  He rocked me. “Whatever it is that’s got you like this, shit, I swear, I’ll fix it. I won’t leave you alone. Please, Dovey, talk to me.” He tried to tilt my chin and look at me, but I fought him until he sighed and gave up.

  Not leave me?

  What a lie. He’d left me once already, hadn’t he? And a leopard never changes his spots. Once you’re called the heartbreaker of BA, you’re always the heartbreaker of BA.

  “Dovey, please tell me what’s wrong. Is this about Sarah?” Cuba asked. “Or that Barinsky guy?” Again, he tried to get me to look at him.

  I shook my head frantically. No, no, no.

  “Then, is this about Emma?” He held his breath, his body tense. “Because I’m —”

  At her name, I squirmed out of his embrace and stood, my hands wiping at the wetness on my cheeks. I couldn’t tell him the whole truth, so I lied.

  “It’s—it’s Spider. We had a fight.”

  He rushed to his feet. “I’ll kill that bastard if he laid a hand on you,” he shouted.

  “No, no that.” But, I guess that was debatable though.

  “Then just a lover’s tiff?” A muscle in his jaw ticked.

  I sniffed. “We kissed and then I—I called him your name.”

  His eyes widened. “Oh. That sucks…for him.”

  I ignored that.

  “He hates you, you know. And it makes me angry that I ...” I stopped, afraid of what might slip out.

  He briefly shut his eyes. “If he loves you, he’ll get over it.”

  But, why hadn’t Cuba loved me?

  I nodded, changing gears. “Tell me something, is that someday here yet? The one where you explain why you mind-fucked me?”

  “Dovey,” he said, and then his voice softened. “Please, I—I don’t know where to start with this, but I’m sorry for everything, especially the way we broke up. I know I destroyed any respect or love you had for me. I know I don’t deserve it, but I’d give anything if you’d forgive me.”