You're What I Want (Y.A Series Book 4)

by Sarah Tork

  “What are you doing?”

  I turned around and Mom stood there with Dad panting with his hands on his knees behind her. She shook her head, looking upset, and took her purse from the side table. She grabbed the twenty and placed it in my hand. I was about to protest but she eyed me sternly.

  “I’m fine, really,” I stated.

  “Don’t talk back to your mother,” Mom ordered, opening the front door and waving me out. “Out, now. Have fun.”

  I kissed her cheek. “Thanks, Mom.”

  “Hey!” Dad screeched, coming up to us. “What about me?”

  I kissed his cheek. “Thank you, Daddy.”

  Satisfied, Dad grinned to Mom. “That’s right, acknowledgement. Learn, woman.”

  “This fool did it again,” Mom screeched, her face turning red.

  Flabbergasted, I shook my head. Clearly no lessons were learned. I stepped out and Mom gave me an incredulous look. “You come home and we’re not here, check the hospital,” she declared, and closed the door.

  My dad screeched in pain and the floorboards rumbled as he ran away. “Woman, don’t you dare! Wait, please! I love you, my sweet darling! I was just kidding! Jenna, come back!”

  I laughed and walked away.

  Twenty minutes later, I stepped off the bus in front of the mall. I crossed the practically empty parking lot and grinned, spotting my boyfriend’s car. I came up to Tom’s Honda and found him rocking out in the driver seat. My heart warmed, my body felt excited, like wow, because… this guy was my kind of crazy.

  However, the performance was short lived. Tom noticed me laughing and lowered his window. “That’s cruel.” He pouted, shaking his head and turning off his car.

  “Yes, yes it was.” I grinned, shrugging as he got out. “But it was worth it to see you rock out.”

  “Come here,” he growled, reaching for my waist and bringing me to him. “Hey, silly.”

  “Hey, Tom,” I murmured, mesmerized by his eyes.

  “That’s not my name.” He shook his head, looking intense. “Call me what you did last night.”

  Oh, God… did I really call him that last night?

  “Darling.” I caressed his face, my fingertips gliding along his jawline and resting by his lips. “I’m a little embarrassed, though.”

  “Why? I’m not.” Tom grinned and leaned down, pressing his lips against mine softly, sweetly. I felt my tummy swirl with nerves and electricity. My heart raced and with his chest firmly plastered against mine, I felt his race too. I grabbed the material of his green shirt, crumpled it up, and brought him closer. Kissing turned into a PDA extravaganza as we practically mauled each other. I panted against his lips and pulled back when I thought I’d pass out.

  “I can’t breathe.” I gulped, resting my face against his chest.

  He panted while hugging me tightly. “I can’t either.”

  I chuckled against soft fabric. “What was that again, what you said last night, about not wanting to disrespect me?”

  “I’m sorry, but I can’t help it. Kissing you makes me feel crazy; in a good way though,” Tom explained, pulling away to look at me intently. “Don’t tell me you don’t feel it too.”

  My body, mind… ugh, soul—cannot believe that!—confirmed wholeheartedly. I took a deep breath and nodded. “I feel it too.”

  “So.” Tom smiled, keeping his arm around me as we headed to the mall’s entrance. “Why did you not allow me the pleasure of picking you up this morning?”

  “My parents were home,” I told him honestly. “I hope you aren’t offended?”

  “I’m not,” he answered. “But will you tell them soon?”

  “I will,” I replied. “I’m just trying to let this whole not getting an FSU scholarship thing ride out a bit more, let things get back to how they were, and then I’ll tell them that I, Jenna Sabini, have a boyfriend.”

  “Why do I get the feeling they’re going to be shocked?” Tom asked.

  “Because they’ve never had to deal with anyone like you before. You’re my first boyfriend.”

  Hilarious… me with a boyfriend! Who would have thought?

  “I guess I can understand that,” Tom said, opening the door for me. “So, I’m buying a swimsuit.”

  I entered and he followed right behind me. “Yes, although, I find it odd you don’t own one. We live in Florida; swimming is a given.”

  He took my hand, but gave no answer as to why he didn’t own a swimsuit. Or maybe he did own one and needed another? We headed to The Sports Store—yes, literally that’s the name—in silence. Feeling this dark cloud over us, I led Tom to the swimwear section with a plan to break the ice. I needed to cheer him up.

  “You know, my services come with a stipulation.” I stopped in front of a rack with beautiful, jaw-dropping, mesmerizing, colorful, out-of-this-world, amazing Smashtide swimsuits for men, ranging from jammers, trunks, board shorts, briefs, and square leg.

  He narrowed his eyes. “Oh, yeah, what’s that?”

  I took off a hanger that had a pair of small red briefs on it. “You have to model what I pick for you.”

  Tom’s sullen face transformed into one of shock and amusement. “Well then, let’s get this show started.”

  *~*~*

  *JENNA*

  A couple of hours later, with blue swim trunks in a plastic bag in the backseat, Tom and I were parked in my driveway. My parents weren’t home. Mom was at her sister’s house and Dad was at the garage. We were all alone.

  Still wasn’t sure if that was a good thing, because with my seat reclined and Tom leaned over, kissing me passionately and my heart pounding furiously, telling myself to not ask him to come inside was becoming harder and harder.

  It’s only been a week, it’s only been a week.

  “Tom,” I panted and pulled back. “We should stop, this isn’t right.”

  “Okay, okay. Sorry,” he said, kissing me once more before pulling back into his seat. “But I’m not ready to say good-bye.”

  I took a deep breath. “Let me guess, you want me to invite you inside?”

  “You saw my room.” He smirked. “Seems only fair.”

  He does make a point….

  “All right, but I’m not making out with you.”

  “Got it, boss,” he said, stepping out of his car.

  “Hey, wait for me!” I scrambled out of his car and joined him by the hood.

  He smiled warmly and looked at my front door. “So this is your house up close.”

  “Yeah, this is my home. Come with me, please.” I took his hand and led the way, unlocking the door and deactivating the alarm. Quieter than a library, Tom followed me to the kitchen where my mom had left a plate of bacon.

  Tom sniffed a few times. “It smells like citrus.” He glanced at the kitchen table with a warm smile. “And bacon!”

  I laughed. “You like bacon?”

  “Love bacon.” He practically glided to the table and peered over the plate, but made no move to take one.

  So polite.

  “Let’s take them to my room,” I said, and Tom cradled the plate as if it were gold leaf. “It’s just bacon, boy.”

  “Special bacon my silly is giving me.” Tom beamed, leaning down to kiss me on the cheek.

  “Special bacon? My, you’re easy to please.” I scoffed playfully and took his hand. We crossed the hallway and Tom halted.

  “Why are there oranges on the floor?”

  “Oh, yeah. My mom was throwing them at my dad this morning.” I beamed at the memory. Good times.

  Tom’s eyes narrowed. “So, he said something and your mom didn’t like it.”

  I nodded. “Pretty much.”

  “So if I say something stupid, will you throw oranges at me?” he asked with a twinkle in his eyes.

  “Only if you’re lucky,” I whispered, leading him up the stairs to my bedroom that I was thankful for cleaning this morning. “You can put the plate on my bed.”

  He stood by my bed, looking out of pl
ace and bashful. Instead of the bed, he placed the plate on my desk. “I don’t want to get your blanket dirty.”

  So polite.

  I cleared my throat and joined him by my desk. I turned on my laptop and opened a playlist. As sweet sounds of alternative rock filled my room, I looked up nervously at Tom, who was taking my room in.

  “Yeah, so this is my room. Fancy, right?”

  “It’s a nice room,” he concluded. “It’s clean, and it definitely smells better than mine.” He smirked.

  “I light candles sometimes,” I looked for my coconut vanilla candle, finding it on top of my dresser next to a lighter. “I’ve had this one for a while, for too long actually. I have this phobia of burning myself with the lighter sometimes.”

  “I can light it if you want,” Tom offered. He went to my dresser and picked up the lighter, waiting for my instruction.

  “That’d be nice, thanks.”

  Tom lit the candle as I turned my phone on silent and placed it on my side table. Kicking off my black sandals, I lay on my bed and stretched over, facing my ceiling. Upside down, I smiled warmly at Tom, who was barely restraining himself from grinning. “Darling, join me? I want to show you something amazing.”

  “As you wish.” Tom joined me, lying down beside me, and leaning over to give my cheek a long kiss that sent shivers down my spine. “

  I took a breath, hoping to restrain his instant effect. “Look up, darling. I want you to see something magical.”

  He faced the ceiling and it was a moment. I felt him get lost in awe, staring up at the galaxy of glow-in-the-dark stars I painted over black paint.

  “You did this?”

  “A while back,” I answered. “So, tell me, how do you feel right now?”

  “Relaxed.” His fingers slid over mine, clasping them tightly. “It smells good in here.”

  I inhaled sweetness that brought me instant satisfaction. “Yeah, it smells nice.”

  Tom cleared his throat. “So, the swimsuit?”

  “Yes, the swimsuit.” A huge grin stretched over my face. “What’s the plan, boss?”

  “You know my dad used to be on the swim team, too.” Tom curled to his side and brought me close. “High school and college.”

  “That’s awesome.”

  “Yeah, it is. I remember his medals and ribbons hanging against the wall in his office. Some of them were from junior high too, but there were like fifty of them. Mostly first place ribbons and gold medals, some second place ribbons and silver medals, and a few third place ribbons and bronze medals.” Tom paused. “It’s funny, he hated his silver medals more than the bronze ones. I never understood why.”

  I knew why.

  “Well from one swimmer’s perspective, one who lives for first place, the silver medal is nothing but a reminder of what could have been. First loser, good but clearly not good enough, even by something as crazy as a millisecond, the brush of a fingertip.” I sighed, resting my forearm behind my head. “Trust me, it hurts.”

  Tom propped himself on his elbow and searched my room. “Where are all your trophies, medals, and ribbons?”

  I smirked, swinging my leg in the direction of the door. “In the grand display case my dad demanded they all be in. It’s in the formal dining room next to my mom’s armoire where all her fancy antique plates are.”

  “It must be packed,” Tom assumed.

  “You have no idea. It’s filled with my winning memorabilia from the age of four.” I turned to my side, facing him with a few inches separating our mouths. But not for long, because he leaned forward, annihilating the space, and kissed me slowly. Tom’s kiss intensified and I made no move to pull away. I liked this. A lot. But then I remembered what I told him….

  I pulled back an inch, and with a heavy pant I let him have it. “What did I tell you! I told you I wasn’t gonna make out with you, and God, in my room in an empty house. What have I become?” I gasped a delirious laugh, grinning goofily.

  He pouted. “You don’t like kissing me?”

  My eyes popped wide open as I gasped. “Don’t you try and guilt me… it won’t work.”

  “All right, I can take a hint. You don’t like kissing me.” He exhaled and sat up. “My girlfriend hates my lips.”

  I sat up and wrapped my arm around his waist. “Don’t try me, boy.” I rested my chin on his shoulder. “You know who you’re dealing with?”

  Tom grunted like a petulant child. “Yeah, I know. I’m dealing with someone who doesn’t like Sir Tom Colleto’s hot lips.”

  “Pshhhh, player please.” I pulled away completely and stood up in front of him with a huge cringe on my face. “Sir Tom Colleto?”

  “Royalty’s in the house.” He dropped back down onto his elbows. “Thought you would have noticed by now.”

  “Notice this.” Turning toward the door, I flipped him the bird over my shoulder. “Your majesty.”

  “You are one rude little….” He growled, moving off my bed.

  “Warrior,” I added, twirling around to face him standing in front of me looking cute and bothered, angry and just the right amount of fifties’ bad boy… think James Dean. His hair was the right amount of tousled and smoothed back. His blue eyes glowed like lightning as he prepared to take me on, the warrior princess, the badass, who just threw down the gauntlet, because ain’t no man be thinking he could try me and get away with it. Goofy or not, I’d always win.

  He should know this.

  And who better to tell him than… moi.

  “You’re dealing with a new breed, my friend.” I shook my head and gave him attitude. “A warrior, that’s me, take a look, take some notes and learn from greatness—learn, period.”

  “I’m a king,” he stated, slowly. “Kings are the ultimate warriors. You work for me.”

  “Pshhhh, what!” I gasped, literally floored, literally shocked, literally OMG. “I work for you?”

  His hunched down, his face closer to mine. “You… heard… me,” he said slowly with a cocky smile.

  “I’m gonna karate chop your ass if you don’t show some respect, like now.” I slapped my shoulder for purely dramatic purposes and took a few steps back to get into kung fu mode. “You don’t want some of this, bro.”

  He sneered, unimpressed by my stance. “Don’t threaten me, peasant. I’m a king.”

  “A king who’s about to get his ass owned. I have skills that have made men twice your size cry like the little princesses they are, and always will be.” I leaped onto my bed and jumped off the other side. With a barrier between us, now I’d really let him have it. “I’m about to swipe your head off and retake the throne; get ready.”

  Tom grabbed one of my pillows and held it in defense mode. “You can try, but you will fail. Face facts, little one, this isn’t your fight to win.”

  “That’s where you’re mistaken,” I growled, grabbing my other pillow and hurling it at his face. “Ogre, be gone!”

  “You’ll pay for that,” he growled, holding two pillows ready for attack. “You’ve greatly insulted me, and for that you will pay dearly.”

  “Oh, yeah,” I panted, glancing around quickly for leverage. It’s then I noticed the precious bacon we’d yet to consume. Cackling like a madwoman, I grabbed the plate. “Mwahahaha, look what I have!”

  Tom’s blue eyes blazed as he realized the depth of my vengeance. “You wouldn’t dare.”

  “Oh,” I drawled, letting out a little cackle at the end. “But I would. This is a matter of respect, and you need to learn a few things, because if you don’t… I will toss this bacon to the floor and it’ll be gone forever. You hear me? Forever.”

  His nostrils flared as I teetered the plate. “You… wouldn’t… dare.”

  “Look into my eyes, I’m not playing games here!” I hollered, deciding he needed proof of the legitimacy of my claims. I picked up a piece of bacon. “Remember that it was you who did this. Remember that it was your insubordination that sentenced this perfectly good piece of bacon to its inevitable
waste in my kitchen trash bin.” My lips trembled, as if I were to cry in despair. “Wrapped in dirty napkins, cause my dad used the last one, and he and my mom have to go to Costco to stock up. Couldn’t even give it a clean napkin, bro. What kind of monster are you?”

  He threw a pillow at me. I ducked quickly.

  “The ruthless kind. Now place the bacon back onto the plate and leave it where you found it, woman,” Tom instructed, pointing to my desk. “I won’t be as forgiving if that beautiful piece of fried meat collides into an infestation of fluff and dirt.

  I gave him the De Niro squint. “You calling my floors dirty, bro?”

  “Dirtiest floors I’ve ever seen in my life,” he professed without hesitation.

  “That’s it!” I twitched and placed the bacon plate back onto my desk. It didn’t deserve my wrath. “That’s it!”

  He pointed his fingers at me, waving me over. “Prepare to be annihilated,”

  I jumped on my bed and hurled myself at him. The look of shock on his face was worth the leap. But then something happened… while struggling to dominate him with my “power,” his arm tightened around my waist and our eyes locked.

  Everything.

  Just.

  Slowed.

  Down.

  His fingers brushed the corners of my mouth, sending my face into a sweet buzz. Nerves invaded as he brushed his lips over mine. Things went from zero to sixty with a bang. I hugged his shoulders as he lifted me up. He then sat down on my bed, and practically inhaled my mouth.

  He pulled back with an apology in his eyes. “Too rude?”

  “I’ll tell you when to stop.” I panted and dove for his lips where we resumed this crazy wild out of this world passion that I couldn’t have enough of. Stress be gone, worries be gone, hugging my cute darling… yes… yes… yes.

  He leaned back, having me hover over him. I paused for a second and slid hair away from his eyes. Our eyes locked and sweet words, words that I’d be too embarrassed to proclaim proudly and openly throughout the day, poured from my lips.