I thought our house was nice. This place is a palace.
“Let’s go upstairs,” she says, as she grabs onto the railing and starts climbing.
I’m right behind her, eye level with her perfect ass, and I’m tempted to reach out and touch it, but I keep my impulses under control. Those things get me in trouble, and I’m trying to be respectful right now.
Don’t want her thinking I only want to maul her.
She points at a closed door. “Jake’s room. And no, you’re not allowed even a peek inside.”
“Not that I give a shit,” I tell her, though it’s kind of a lie.
I wouldn’t mind checking out his bedroom, though I doubt it would tell me much about that motherfucker.
“Autumn’s old room,” Ava says, pointing to an open door. It’s very clean and pretty plain. I assume she’s taken everything that matters with her to college. “And Beck’s room.” She points at another open door, and inside it’s messy with all sorts of video game and 49er posters hanging all over the walls. Clearly it belongs to a boy.
“Here’s my room,” she says, stopping in front of another closed door. “Though you’ve been here before.”
How could I forget the time I crawled up the side of her house and climbed through her window? Yeah, that’s a memory etched on my brain. “I have.”
She opens the door and walks inside, me trailing after her. The room is cleaner than the last time I was in here. The bed neatly made and no sign of clothes tossed over furniture or a messy desk. The entire room is spotless.
“You’ve got a giant room,” I say as I look around it, spotting the open door that leads to a connecting bathroom.
“Yours is pretty big too,” she reminds me.
I clamp my lips together, refusing to make a dirty joke. Why am I always tested like this? “You definitely win this contest.”
“I can’t help it if my father has money. And not just because he played football either. He comes from a very wealthy family.” She smiles at me.
I stare at her for a moment, dumbfounded by her beauty, not giving a shit if she has money. Not even really giving a shit right now that her dad is a famous ex-NFL quarterback and my idol when I was a kid.
How’d I get so lucky to snag this girl and make her mine? I’m a complete fuckup, and she’s the golden girl. To everyone else I’m sure we don’t make any sense. I saw her years ago sitting in the stands and I thought she was so damn beautiful. A pretty princess with an easy smile and flashing green eyes. Seeing her, making eye contact with her that night, set my heart on fire. I can’t explain why. Love at first sight?
I always thought that was a bunch of crap. But maybe not.
Back then, I made an idle promise to myself that one day, she’d belong to me, never thinking it could actually happen.
Yet here I am, standing in her bedroom. The two of us the only ones in this giant house. She’s got this particular gleam in her eyes, like maybe she wants to jump me or something.
This is a good sign. A positive sign.
“Are you sure your family isn’t coming back here before they head down to the stadium?” I ask, keeping my distance. I don’t want to start something we can’t finish, especially if we could potentially be interrupted by her parents.
Talk about a nightmare.
“I’m sure. Mom went over what they needed to bring with them about fifty times before they finally left the house,” Ava says with a firm nod.
“And what time are we supposed to meet up with them again?”
“Game starts at 7:30, so we should be down there at least two hours before it begins so we can go to the tailgate party and eat.” She grins. “Beer butt chicken, remember?”
“How could I forget?” I don’t really care about chicken cooked with a beer can in its butt. All I can think about is me. And Ava. Alone in this house.
When I arrived here, it was around one. We have a shit ton of time before we have to leave.
Like…a shit ton.
“Are you sure they’re cool with me coming to the game?” I ask. “You’re not—hiding me again here, are you?” I have to make sure. I don’t know why it bothers me so much, but I’m tired of feeling like her secret. I want her to admit to the world that we’re together.
I need her support now more than ever.
“My family wants you there,” she says easily, her expression never faltering. That reassures me. Kind of. “I want you there. You wanted me to prove to you that I want you in my life? Well, here I am. Inviting you to my house. Inviting you to spend time with my entire family at a football game. If that doesn’t prove to you how I feel, then I don’t know what else will.”
We stare at each other for a few tense filled seconds. Not a bad tension, though. More like…sexual tension. Like, my hands are itching to touch her. Explore that sliver of skin exposed by her cropped T-shirt. And she’s eyeing me like she wants exactly the same thing.
I go to her bed and sit on the edge of it, spreading my legs a little. “Come here,” I tell her with a flick of my head.
She comes to me with slow steps, like she’s trying to drag this moment out. Which is fine by me, because I want to savor this too. When she stops in front of me, right in between my legs, I reach for her, settling my hands on her hips, my fingertips grazing the bare skin above her jeans. She watches me with eyes full of hesitancy, and I blink up at her, momentarily confused.
“You okay?” I ask.
She nods.
“What’s wrong?”
“Nothing.” She shakes her head. Then holds up her hand. “I’m shaking.”
Ava’s right. Her fingers, her entire hand is gently quaking. I grab hold of it and give it a squeeze, trying to calm her down. “Why?”
“Just nervous, I guess.” She shrugs.
“Princess.” I tug on her hand and we both fall onto the bed, rearranging ourselves so we’re facing each other, our heads on the pile of pillows. Damn, these things are soft. “You have no reason to be nervous. We’ve done this before, remember? A few times. I have intimate knowledge of your O face.”
And it’s burned in my memories forever.
“You would say that,” she says with a laugh, her cheeks turning the faintest pink. I love it when she blushes. I love it when she does just about anything.
“What are you nervous about?”
“Losing you again.” She touches my cheek, her fingers featherlight as they skim over my skin. “Messing up and making you hate me.”
“I could never hate you.”
“I thought you hated me last week, when you walked away from me.” Her lower lip trembles and her eyes get watery.
“Ah, shit. Don’t cry.” I pull her into me, my hand cupping the back of her head as she buries her face against my chest. “This is supposed to be a hot moment, not a sad moment.”
She laughs again, though it also sounds like she’s crying. “A hot moment?”
“I planned on getting you naked,” I whisper into her hair.
“Really?” Ava tilts her head back so our gazes lock, her eyes a little red. “I didn’t think you’d want to.”
“Please.” I always want to get naked with Ava. “I didn’t think you’d want to.” Now it’s my turn to touch her face. I trace the length of her nose. The curve of her lips. “I figured you might want to take this slow.”
“I thought the same about you.”
I send her a come on look. “I’m not a take it slow kind of person. You know this.”
“No, you’re really not, are you?” She smiles. Her eyes are clear. I don’t think she feels like crying anymore. “Did you bring condoms?”
She whispers that last question.
“Maybe.” I did. I carry one tucked away in my wallet where it’s not obvious. There are more in my car. I’m not stupid.
“If you didn’t, we can do—other stuff.” She scoots closer to me, and I slip my arm around her waist, sneaking my hand up the back of her shirt so I can touch bare skin.
Still not sure which side will win, I decide to see where this takes us.
“Oh, I don’t know,” she says before I kiss her full on the mouth now, my lips lingering. Tugging on her lower lip with both of mine. “What do you want to do?”
“Strip you out of your clothes.” Another kiss. This one longer. I swipe my tongue across her upper lip right before I end it. “Kiss you all over your body.”
“I might like that.” A shiver escapes her when my mouth drifts across her jaw, down her neck.
“Only might?” I keep kissing her neck. She likes it when I do that. “What if I took off your panties with my teeth?”
A laugh escapes her. “You think that’s possible?”
“Don’t say it like that. You know I love a challenge. I’ll prove to you it’s possible,” I say, right before she kisses me.
And what a kiss it is. Full of tongue and heat, with these soft whimpers coming from the back of her throat. She shifts out of my grip so she can hover over me, her mouth seeking mine again, the next kiss getting sloppy. Dirty.
I reach for her, threading my fingers in the soft hair at the back of her head. I slide them down, streaking across her nape, and when my fingers stumble over a chain, I can tell something is hanging heavy on it, dangling from her neck.
Breaking the kiss, I lean back, trying to take her in, but her mouth chases after mine, reconnecting with an impatient moan. I place my hand on her shoulder and give her a light nudge, making her break the kiss. She lifts away from me, a little scowl on her face. “What’s wrong?”
That’s when I see it. My #1 pendant hanging from her neck. On a different chain, one that’s much more delicate. A mixture of joy and possessiveness floods my veins at seeing my number on her.
I thought it was lost forever.
“Where’d you find this?” I touch the pendant. Curl my index finger around the thin chain.
“It must’ve broke when you got into the fight with Jake. I found it that night in our yard, after you already left.” Her fingers brush against mine as she touches the pendant as well. “I’ve been wearing it ever since. So I always had a piece of you, even though you left me.”
I broke her fucking heart. Just like she broke mine.
“This is mine.” I tug on the thin gold chain, pulling her down so our lips are perfectly aligned.
“You want it back?”
“Keep it. You’re mine too.” I kiss her. Nip at her lower lip with my teeth, making her gasp. “I eventually wanna see you wearing that necklace and nothing else.”
“I can make that happen,” she says eagerly.
“Oh yeah?” Another kiss. “Prove it,” I murmur against her lips.
Thirteen
Ava
His words are just the push I need.
I pull away from his kiss, smiling as I climb off the mattress and stand. Eli rolls over so his head is propped on the pillows and he’s watching me with a smirk on his face, his arms bent behind his head.
He looks good lying on my bed, wearing jeans and the Bulldogs T-shirt, white socks on his feet. He must’ve kicked off his shoes at one point. I didn’t even notice.
Reaching for the button on my jeans, I undo it, then slowly slide down the zipper. I thought it might feel awkward, stripping in front of my boyfriend, but from the appreciative gleam I see in his eyes, I realize it’s not awkward at all.
I feel empowered. A rush of heat sweeps over me, my body reacting to only a look from him.
Shimmying out of the jeans, I eventually have to bend over and tug them off of each leg, kicking them onto the floor, hoping I don’t look too silly. I stand up straight and brush the hair out of my eyes, ready to pull the shirt off over my head when Eli says, “Wait a minute.”
My arms drop to my sides. “What?”
“Keep the T-shirt on. And your panties.” A wicked smile curves his lips. “Take off the bra though.”
“Really?” I wrinkle my nose.
He nods. “Really.”
I reach behind me, sneaking my hand beneath my shirt, finding the back snap. I undo it with a flick of my fingers, the bra springing away from me. Quickly I take it off, sliding one strap down my arm, and then the other before I pull the entire thing from under my shirt and let it fall to the floor.
“That was kind of sexy,” Eli says.
“It was not,” I say with a laugh. I rest my hands on my hips, letting him look his fill. My panties are white and lacy. I was going for the virginal look, though I’m not a virgin anymore, thanks to this boy.
“It was to me.” He makes a motion with his finger. “Turn around.”
He loves to have me turn around. Always checking me out. Sometimes I feel like I’m some sort of visual plaything to him.
Really I suppose he’s just very into watching when it comes to sex.
“Damn woman.” He’s shaking his head when I face him once more, his gaze locked on my chest. “I can see your nipples poking against the T-shirt.”
I can actually feel them tighten when he says that. This boy makes me feel bold. Comfortable—and not in a boring way. I trust him. I trust who I am when I’m with him. And I hope he trusts me too.
“I’m guessing that was part of your plan,” I tell him.
“You guessed right,” he says with a chuckle, appearing very pleased with himself. “You don’t know how good you look right now. I wish I could take a picture.”
“Why don’t you?” I rest my hands on my hips, thrust out my leg and strike a pose like I’m some sort of supermodel.
Furthest thing from the truth, but I may as well act silly and have a little fun. Eli never seems to mind.
“You’d let me take photos of you like this?” He sounds incredulous.
“Um, as long as you promise to hide them somewhere on your phone.” I shrug, acting like it’s no big deal, but secretly shocked I’d say such a thing. Am I really doing this? Making this offer? Have I lost my freakin’ mind?
“I can put them in the My Eyes Only section on Snapchat,” he offers as he grabs his phone from the back pocket of his jeans.
I frown. That’s the folder on Snap where you can hide photos with a passcode. I might have a few, but nothing too scandalous. One of me and Ellie the first time we tried weed, both of us clinging to each other and grinning at the camera, Ellie clutching a bong in her hand. Yeah, that’s a damaging photo we would never want out in public. “Do you have any other photos in there?”
I’m referring to any nudes a girl might’ve sent him. I know he’s received them before. Probably multiple times from multiple girls.
He slowly shakes his head. “None. You’ll be the only one.”
“Really?” I find this incredibly hard to believe. I mean, this is Eli Bennett, the player, we’re talking about.
“Well, okay. Let me explain. My first two years in high school, that’s where I’d stash all the nudes I had. Not just ones sent to me by girls, but also ones that my friends would send me that girls would send them. We all shared and swapped them,” he explains.
“That’s terrible.” I am so glad I never sent nudes to any boy, especially my freshman and sophomore years. Plenty of times a girl’s photos would get leaked, and it would turn into a big scandal around campus. Even the vice principal got involved a couple of times. Boys pass them around to each other constantly. I became aware of this pretty early on my freshman year.
Which should make me really wary of letting Eli take any photos now.
But we’re older. Eli loves me. I love him. We’ve already had sex. He wouldn’t share my photos with any of his friends. That’s just—wrong.
“Yeah, well, eventually I didn’t want those photos anymore. Felt kind of sleazy to have them, you know? Not like I used them for anything.” I make a face when he says that, and he
laughs. “I just stashed them in there for safekeeping and never looked at them again. So I deleted them all.”
“No other girl has sent you nudes recently,” I say.
He slowly shakes his head. “Nope.”
“I find that hard to believe.”
“Baby, they all lost interest in me once Jackson started roaming around campus with his guitar. That guitar gives him major game,” Eli says, and we both laugh.
I’m sure what he says about Jackson is true. I’ve seen the way girls lose their minds over him. The blonde hair, the sparkling blue eyes, and the rock star persona.
But forget Jackson. I want to focus on my boyfriend.
“So how do you want to do this?” I ask Eli. When he frowns, I explain. “Take photos of me.”
“Oh. Well.” He scratches his jaw as he contemplates me. “I don’t want to show your face. That way if anyone does find them, they won’t know who you are.”
“Okay.” I nod, suddenly feeling foolish. This is the craziest suggestion I’ve ever made in my life. Doubt swamps me. “Um, is this a bad idea?”
“No.” He jumps off the bed and comes to me, his hands back on my hips, his gaze locked with mine as he slips his fingers beneath the waistband of my panties. I want to melt. “It’s the fuckin’ best idea we’ve had in a while. Come on, it’ll be fun.”
“Yeah, you really think so?” I ask, my voice faint. Being with him makes me want to do things. Experimental things that I would never try with anyone else, let alone tell anyone I’m doing.
I trust him. I trust him so much, I’m willing to let him take inappropriate photos of me.
Oh my God, that last part sounded like my mother.
“If you don’t want to do this, you don’t have to,” he says, his voice soft, lifting his hands away from my hips so he can cup my cheeks. He leans in, dropping a soft kiss on my lips and I close my eyes, wanting more. He gives me exactly what I want, our lips connecting again and again until his tongue sweeps into my mouth, sliding against mine in a slow, seductive glide. I lean into him, a shiver stealing over me when his hands sweep over my waist, over my butt. He moans and breaks the kiss, his fingers impatiently tugging on the hem of my shirt and yanking it up.
Meant To Be (The Callahans Book 4) Page 12