by Claire Adams
I felt like I was walking on air, joking and laughing with Johnny as we went along. He told me about the game—and I somehow managed to cover for the fact that I knew absolutely nothing at all about hockey. I grinned and reacted with surprise and as much enthusiasm as I could muster even as I struggled to puzzle through the different terms he used and tried to piece together anything more than a basic understanding of the fact that our team had won. When he told me about a brawl, I shuddered and listened to the gory details, the timeout someone had been forced to take, the foul shot. I told myself that I was going to make sure to look up as much as I could about hockey when I got back to the dorm later in the day, so I could at least pretend like I could follow what he was saying.
I was barely looking around, so I barely noticed that the girl from the dining hall was in front of the Marchman building, smoking a cigarette before her class, as Johnny and I approached. She must have caught sight of us before I had noticed her there—the look she gave me was so disgusted, so bitter, that I almost laughed at her to her face, but I told myself that I had been raised better than that; I would be classy, even if she was an asshole. I simply turned my attention back onto Johnny and laughed as he finished up telling me a story about a prank the team had pulled on the coach during their rest stop the night before. It felt good to ignore her, and it was especially good to know that there was nothing she could say to me in front of Johnny. I thought to myself that it absolutely served her right to see me looking so happy with the guy I was rapidly developing feelings for. I wanted her to absolutely know that none of her stupid tricks were going to get in the way of my happiness.
As we reached my classroom, Johnny gave me another quick kiss, and I glanced into the open door of the room; the professor was already there, calling the class to order. Johnny peeked his head in and called out a greeting to the professor, taking responsibility for me being late. “I had to waylay her for a few minutes,” he said. “You know—missing each other and all. I hope you’ll forgive Becky for my sake.” Everyone whispered amongst themselves as I quickly went into the room and sat down, pulling the stuff out of my bag. Johnny gave me a last, quick glance and a grin before he ducked out of the classroom, disappearing down the hall.
Chapter Four
Johnny and I spent the rest of the day exchanging texts, flirting with each other, and arranging the details of our night out. I did have class the next day, but I couldn’t bring myself to worry too much about being exhausted for my classes; in the very worst-case scenario, I was sure I could manage to send my professor an email claiming to be sick, maybe go to the campus clinic and work up a fever. Although Johnny told me to go ahead and eat dinner at the dining hall—since after all I was going to be paying for it whether I ate or not—he didn’t give me many details about where we were going, apart from the fact that I should wear really comfortable shoes. As cute as you looked in those heels, they will not be a good idea where we’re going, he told me in a text, with a little emoji with its tongue sticking out added.
Instead of actually eating in the dining hall, I grabbed a to go box and filled it with stuff that I could easily eat with my hands in my room. I told Georgia about the date when we met up for lunch, and she was excited for me—glad that I hadn’t broached the topic of the girl who had committed suicide and pleased that Johnny had made it a priority to find me to ask me out. “Girl, you need to face that he’s actually really into you.”
I decided that since Johnny hadn’t told me anything other than to wear comfortable shoes, we were going to be doing a good bit of walking; to me, that meant that there was no way in hell I was going to wear the kind of outfit that Gigi had talked me into for the frat party the week before. I went with a comfortable, long skirt that came just past my knees, a pair of sneakers, and a shirt that buttoned up the back, thinking that that would cover any eventuality; I could be comfortable and still look nice.
I dashed into the shower as soon as I finished eating, washing my hair and shaving my legs, and put on a little bit of makeup—not enough for it to be noticeable, but enough to highlight my features. While I’ve never been super vain, I have known since I was about sixteen that I’m cute enough on my own. I was practically vibrating by the time I was done, ready for Johnny to call me to let me know he was in the pick-up circle next to the dorm; I paced back and forth across the living room common area, wishing that Georgia was there just so that I could have someone to vent to about how impatient I felt.
Finally, my phone rang, and I leaped towards my purse on the coffee table to grab it. It was Johnny. “Right outside your dorm, baby,” he said, and I could hear the grin in his voice. I told him I’d be right down and once more didn’t even bother with the elevator; it was all well and good for when I was moving my stuff into the building, but like most of the machines on campus, it was more than a little slow, and the last thing I wanted was to chance being trapped in it when all I wanted was to get to Johnny.
I stepped out of the dorm and walked quickly to the loop, looking around. I spotted a couple of cars, but no one was in them; they were courting a ticket from the campus cops, leaving their vehicles there for longer than maybe an hour. I nearly jumped when I heard a loud, larger-than-life horn honk, and spun around to take in the sight of a huge, red pickup truck, the source of the horn. It was tricked out with fancy rims and was so high off the ground that I wondered if anyone could get into it without a ladder. I spotted Johnny seated behind the wheel, waving at me, and shook my head, laughing; if I didn’t know better, I would have thought the truck was compensating for something—but I did know better.
I hurried over and heard the door on the driver’s side open as I got closer to the huge vehicle. Johnny leaped out of the cab, coming around to give me a fast, hungry kiss. “Perfect,” he told me, looking me up and down. “Good choice of shoes, and you still look just—way too hot to be real.” Johnny kissed me again and helped me up into the passenger side, giving me his shoulder to boost myself with as I put my foot up on the step and giving me a little shove to assist.
“It’s like trying to get on a horse,” I said, shaking my head at him. Johnny laughed and closed the door behind me, making his way quickly around the front of the truck back to the driver’s side. “So, where are we going that I need to be able to walk?” Johnny turned the key in the ignition and gave me another quick grin.
“It’s a surprise,” he said, pulling away from the curb. He turned on the stereo, and we drove away from campus, already starting to talk about our favorite bands and groups once more as we headed out on our way to the mystery location where Johnny had planned for our date to be. I was tingling with anticipation; I had never been a huge outdoors person, but I had been to summer camp several times, and I was not averse to anything that would get me some time alone with Johnny.
I figured maybe he would take me to a park or something; that would be romantic—but as we drove out, further and further away from the town where the campus was located, I started to feel a little bit worried. “You do know where we’re going, right?” I asked, trying to keep my voice as playful as possible. Johnny laughed.
“I know exactly where we’re going, no worries.” I pushed aside any misgivings that we’d be wandering around in the deepening dark, running out of gas, and that Johnny would just refuse to ask for directions until we were stranded.
He took a turnoff into a forest preserve area and started into the woods, and I felt myself getting worried again, but for a different reason. Stories about girls who were lulled into a sense of security by how nice a guy was only to find themselves murdered brutally filled my head. The question of who Claire White was flickered through my mind; had her death really been a suicide? As the woods thickened around us, I found myself looking around. If the worst happened, and Johnny for some reason wanted to kill me, I hoped I could get away.
I finally looked over at Johnny and the sight of him made me relax. There was no fiendish glee on his face, only concentration as he wov
e his way through and around the barely-existing trail through the woods. There was no way that Johnny was the kind of person who could kill a girl in the middle of nowhere; he was just too sweet. He was too kind. I couldn’t believe he was even capable of hurting someone—unless it was in a brawl on the ice. The truck shuddered and shifted, and Johnny turned onto an even-smaller trail, where I worried his truck wouldn’t even fit. I heard the branches around us scraping and whacking against the cab, along the sides. “You’re absolutely sure you know where you’re going?” I said, forcing myself to smile, even though I knew it was a nervous little grin.
“You’ll love it once we get there, I promise,” Johnny said. I pressed my lips together and tried to keep myself from yelping as the truck bounced along the rough, tiny trail. I had to have faith in Johnny. I had to believe that he had gone down this particular trail in his truck before and knew how to avoid running right into a tree, or off of the trail itself. My heart was beating faster, and I was totally at a loss—I couldn’t decide whether he was trying to kill me, was just foolish and daring, or that he’d had a great idea and I was just being a coward.
Johnny pulled into a little clearing in the woods and put the truck in park, and I looked around. It was pitch dark—wherever the headlights on the front of the huge, hyper-masculine truck didn’t illuminate was just a void, completely and totally black. How long had we been driving? The sun was barely going down when Johnny picked me up earlier. He grabbed a flashlight from behind the seat and grinned at me. “It’s not a long walk to where we’re going, but you’ll be glad you took my advice on the shoes.” I laughed, still a little nervous; where were we going?
Johnny opened his door and leaped out, and I cautiously followed suit, my eyes adjusting to the darkness that swallowed us slowly. He had shut the headlights off, making a comment about not wanting to run down the battery and grabbed a pack from the truck bed. I heard the leaves and brush crunching under his feet as he came around to my side of the truck, the flashlight already on, pointed carefully at the ground. “I won’t let anything grab you, don’t worry,” he said, wrapping one arm around my waist. I could feel the weight of his backpack and forced myself to smile in spite of my worry.
Johnny led me a little way into the woods, to another clearing—this one with an opening in the tree canopy overhead. He set the flashlight on a rock and started to pull things out of the backpack, and I was stunned; he must have really, really thought about this, in spite of how spur-of-the-moment he’d made the date appear. Blankets, a bag of marshmallows, a sleeve of graham crackers and a bar of chocolate, along with a big bottle of hard cider all appeared. He angled the flashlight to shine onto a circle of stones and I watched while he pulled up dead wood and other kindling and started a fire there. “Want to spread the blanket for me?” he asked. I smiled and shook out the huge, thick blanket—it was so soft and fluffy in my hands that I thought as long as I didn’t settle it on a rock, it would practically be like lying on a mattress.
All my worries started to dissolve as we roasted marshmallows over the fire, made s’mores, and drank the still-cold cider Johnny had grabbed. He told me about how he’d rushed around after classes ended to get all of the things he needed, and I smiled, cuddling close to him on the blanket and looking into the fire, looking all around me at the orange-red glow seeping into the trees. I had been so wrong to doubt him or to even think for a minute that he was going to hurt me. “I really wanted to bring you here because you can see the stars just—it’s amazing,” Johnny said, pointing up at the clearing in the trees overhead. He was right; far away from campus, away from the lights of the town, deep in the woods, I could see more stars that I had ever known existed, spiraling in milky, glowing splendor across the sky.
We playfully tried to show off for each other, picking out constellations and inventing new ones, and as Johnny’s hands started to wander over my body, I felt the last bit of fear disappearing as I became more and more turned on. Here we were, alone, in the woods, next to a fire and under an amazing night sky, far away from anyone who might interrupt. I shifted closer to Johnny on the blanket and kissed him hungrily, feeling my body heat up all over. His hands slipped up underneath my shirt, and I shivered, pulling closer to him on the blanket, feeling my nerves crackling with hot-and-cold electricity.
Johnny deepened the kiss, turning me onto my back while his hands crept up along my ribs, cupping my breasts through my bra. “You know, there’s no one to hear us,” he murmured against my lips. I could feel the hard ridge of his erection already starting to strain at his jeans. “We can make as much noise as we want, and no one will ever know.” I laughed, reaching down and hauling his t-shirt up along his back, over his head.
I suddenly had an absolute need to get him naked, to feel his body pressed against mine. Kissing him early in the morning had left me simmering with arousal all day, thinking about the possibility of being with him—I needed to feel Johnny inside of me, almost as much as I needed air. His lips tasted like the s’mores we’d eaten, like the crisp, tart cider, with an undercurrent of the sweet taste I was starting to associate with him.
My shirt somehow disappeared without me knowing how or even where it went; Johnny buried his face against my breasts, nuzzling against me, kissing the valley between my breasts and nipping at the sensitive tops. He tugged the cups of my bra down, and I moaned as he brought one of my nipples to his mouth, kissing it lightly before he sucked it between his lips, his tongue flickering over the little nub until it started to harden. His hands moved down to my hips, along the fabric of my skirt until he found the hem; Johnny slid one hand up underneath, trailing along my inner thighs. I was already soaking wet—I had been just a little turned on, even while I was worried that Johnny was going to kill me, fear making me oddly aroused.
I moaned again and again as Johnny stroked me through the thin fabric of my drenched panties, his mouth switching from one breast to the other, sucking and licking my nipples and sending jolts of pleasure straight to my pussy. “I’ve been thinking about this for days,” Johnny murmured, slipping one finger around the fabric to stroke my bare skin. He found my clit by touch, pressing along the folds of my labia until he hit the little bundle of nerves, and I cried out, pushing my hips down for better contact. He rubbed and stroked, swirling his finger in tight little circles around my pleasure center, and I writhed and twisted underneath him, running my fingers through his thick, soft hair and kissing him in desperation as my body grew hotter and hotter. Johnny tugged my panties away from my body somehow, leaving my skirt on, bringing his fingers along my labia to rub me everywhere before focusing on my clit once more. I kissed along the column of his throat, muffling my moans against his skin as he slid one finger inside of me slowly, his thumb pressed against my clit all the while, rubbing me and sending jolts of cold and hot sensation through my body. He slid his finger in and out slowly, working me, pushing past the resistance of my body as my muscles tightened around him. “God, you’re so hot, so wet,” Johnny whispered, panting, as he added another finger, plunging them both deep inside of me.
He curled his fingers, rubbing along my inner walls, and I moved instinctively, my hips rising and falling, bucking as he teased my clit and stroked me from the inside. “Oh—oh, god, Johnny—don’t stop—please…” I panted for breath, bringing his face back around to mine, kissing him hungrily as I writhed underneath him. I could feel the hot, heavy weight of his cock pressing against my leg, nothing between us but his boxers—somewhere along the line, one of us had gotten rid of his jeans. Johnny’s fingers curled and twisted inside of me, and when he brushed against my g-spot, I gasped, shuddering, clinging to him as if for life itself. He brought me to the edge of climax over and over again, kissing and nipping at my skin playfully, dipping down to my breasts and then moving back up to my lips.
Johnny pulled back, panting almost as much as I was. “I can’t wait any more,” Johnny said, looking down at me, his eyes dark in the firelight. “Are you ready for
me, Becky? You feel so ready.” I nodded, breathless, unable to speak. I was more than ready for him—I was eager, I absolutely needed him. Johnny pushed his boxers down over his hips, and I wrapped my legs around his waist, pushing down against him. He rocked against me, and I moaned at the feeling of his hard cock rubbing along my soaking wet labia, the tip brushing just barely against my clit.
“If you don’t stop teasing me,” I said, digging my nails into the skin of his back, “I’m going to throw you in that fire.” Johnny laughed and shifted against my body, his hand slipping down to guide his cock up against my throbbing, aching slit. He thrust into me slowly, letting me feel him push past the tightening of my muscles, sinking deeper and deeper inside of me. His cock was so hot, so hard inside of me, and I pushed my hips down, moaning against his shoulder, feeling the electric shiver that worked through me.
“God, you feel so good, Becky—better than anyone else I’ve ever…” Johnny’s words dissolved into a moan, and I twisted my hips against his, kissing his lips, kissing along his jaw, anywhere my mouth could reach while I moved in counterpoint to his thrusts, trying to see if I could will my muscles to flex around him just the way I wanted to. But as I got more and more turned on, I heard the wet, sucking sounds of our bodies moving together, and any thought of trying to control anything dissolved. Johnny picked up his pace, thrusting harder and faster into me, and I struggled to keep up, tingling all over as he switched between worshipping my breasts and kissing my lips, his hands wandering all over me, one snaking down between our bodies to stroke and rub my clit in time with his thrusts.