by Jenni Sloane
I still had more serum. I could find out. I could agree to do this with Ian. Get closer to him. Wait for an opportunity…
He went on, “Only if you want to.”
Only if I wanted to. It was my choice. I could walk away, like I had the night of the talent show. But was that what I really wanted?
“You know what?” I said. “Let’s do it.”
He scrambled to his feet. “Really? You’re serious?”
“Yes. I’ll sing with you.”
“Holy shit. Let me just—okay. Okay, don’t go anywhere.”
He strode over to the small group of students from the marching band—and began talking to them.
Ten minutes later, I was sharing a mic with Ian Kemp. Staring into the sea of faces. Trying not to look for Cole. Trying not to feel the heat of Ian’s body beside me, or notice the way the sleeves of his sweater were rolled up to reveal his slim, pale forearms and the fine green-black lines of ink that wove stories on his skin. I spotted Archer. His face revealed nothing as he watched us, but a shiver went through me nonetheless.
The band started up, and then Ian and I were singing. I didn’t have time to get nervous. I was so fucking over being nervous. He was easy to sing with, his gravelly baritone blending with my alto, sometimes dipping well below it, sometimes matching my notes. I didn’t have to think about when or how to harmonize. It was the same combination of natural and bizarre that kissing Cole and Bennett had been. I hit my power note on “land of the free.” He couldn’t match me for pipes, so he let me have the moment. I loved him for it.
When we finished, the audience burst into applause. I knew most of them hated me, or else didn’t know who I was. But with Ian beside me, suddenly I felt…important. Sure, it was only “The Star-Spangled Banner.” But I’d sung the hell out of it. And so had Ian. He glanced over at me. Pushed his tongue against his inner lip, making the three rings shift—then grinned. “You really are something, you know that?”
My own smile faded. Ninety-eight percent of the school thought I was nothing. And I wasn’t going to let myself feel validated, or reborn or whatever, just because some jerk of a boy liked my voice. “Thanks,” I mumbled.
“I mean it.” He placed a hand on my shoulder, then went to find a seat.
In Biology, Quinn Sellars told me she liked my voice. Xavia Patterson asked if I was joining Ian’s band. Mark Rickman said he’d loved my talent show performance. Turned out that by Certifiable-proxy, I’d become a very minor celebrity. Normally I wouldn’t have dared take the compliments at face value. But it was my eighteenth birthday. I knew I’d done a fabulous job. Let the people who were going to mock me do so. I was riding high.
I was in study hall when a pimply student came in. I’d seen him working as an office aide before—Cory someone. He carried a large bouquet of yellow daffodils. “These are for you.”
I took the flowers, stunned, wondering who would have sent them to me. Kayle?
I read the small card:
Amma,
Happy 18th. See you tonight.
-C
Pure poetry, I thought sardonically. But I was warm all over just the same.
He’d sent flowers. For my birthday.
It occurred to me suddenly that maybe they petals were covered with inhalable poison or something. But I slowly, I was learning not to believe the worst in Cole.
I noticed that around the stems was a pale satin ribbon with a large, bejeweled…blob. It looked like a brooch you’d find in a flea market. Maybe slightly less tacky.
People were staring at me, and many of the stares didn’t look too friendly. But I didn’t care. I inhaled the bouquet, and thought about tonight.
Another student stopped me in the hall after class to compliment my voice. And while I was thanking her, Bennett approached me. He had his hands behind his back, and his back angled to the wall. “Amma,” he said, once the other student had hurried off. I tried to recall if this was the first time he’d used my first name.
“One sec.” I gathered the bouquet, trying to arrange my sweater to cover it. It was beautiful, and I wanted to show it off. But it would be a magnet for bullies.
“I was just wondering,” he said, his voice frigid, but tinged with an endearing awkwardness. “If you wanted to schedule an extra session this evening. To help with your advanced calc.”
“Oh, I…” Couldn’t think of anything I wanted less. But looking at his pink-tinged cheeks, remembering how those full lips had moved softly against my own...
Shit.
“I actually have plans tonight,” I told him.
He caught sight of the flowers. His expression darkened. “I see.”
As if on cue, Cole walked by on his way to his next class. He stopped and came over to me. “We still on for tonight?” he asked.
I nodded, still a little stunned that he was interacting with me in public. “Yes,” I murmured. “Thank you for the flowers.”
He grinned. “Wasn’t sure if you were a roses girl, or if you liked something a little different. So I took a chance.” He turned his grin on Bennett, but it morphed from charming to ugly. I felt a stab of anger. This wasn’t just about showing up Bennett, right? He really did want to spend my birthday evening with me?
Making a case for why I should be his.
The words were ridiculous. I would never belong to him—or to any man. But there was a strange security in the idea as well. He wanted me. For himself.
And I still had no idea whether that was something I could ever give him.
“They’re beautiful,” I said carefully.
Cole squeezed my shoulder lightly, still looking at Bennett. “See you tonight.” He shot me another glorious smile, and then was off.
“Sorry about that,” I told Bennett. “But yes, I’d love to work more on calc at our next scheduled session.”
He nodded. “Of course.”
Why was he being so weird? Didn’t he understand that calc was the last thing from my mind when I was with him?
My cheeks grew warm, and I cleared my throat. “I…should probably go.”
“Right.”
We both turned in opposite directions to leave. But as I glanced back, I noticed Bennett move his arm from behind his back. In his hand was a small box of chocolates. And a card.
What was that about?
I wondered if they were supposed to be for me. I felt presumptuous just thinking it. But it seemed likely, given the way he’d looked when Cole had entered the scene.
Bennett had gotten me a birthday gift.
Maybe, I reminded myself.
To compete with Cole? Possibly. Probably.
More likely he’d gotten me some humiliating gag gift. Chocolates made out of dog shit, or something.
But that didn’t feel likely—not anymore.
Why didn’t he say something? Why pretend he wanted to tutor me tonight, if he wanted something else?
Because Bennett was Bennett. And I had to figure out what he wanted, what made him tick—if I had any hope of feeling his lips against mine again.
Chapter Eighteen
When I slipped past Gaines that night and out the side door, I got a rush of freedom that almost eclipsed my nerves.
I hurried across the lit part of the yard and into the shadows. For a second my heart clenched, wondering if it was a trick. What if I reached the spot and a group of my classmates was standing there, ready to point and laugh at me for thinking Cole would ever want to sleep with me?
But when I got there, it was only Cole. Looking incredibly handsome in a black, well-fitted T-shirt, and jeans.
“You came,” he said quietly.
“Did you think I wouldn’t?” I was confused.
He shrugged. “Thought maybe you’d just said yes so you could stand me up. Guess I’d have deserved it.”
Did Cole Heller actually get insecure?
“Glad you’re here, though.” He reached out and took my hand, guiding me down onto the blanket he’d brought
.
“I—I am too,” I stammered.
He grinned. “Don’t look so nervous. I don’t bite.”
No, you just shove, starve, humiliate, and semi-drown.
Put that out of your head, I told myself. You already know there’s something wrong with you for liking him. So own it.
“Okay.” I tried to smile.
“You look nice.”
I wasn’t sure how well he could see my outfit in the darkness, but I had forgone my usual blouse-and-long-skirt combo in favor of a navy tank top of Kayle’s and a pair of skinny jeans.
I blushed, glad he couldn’t see my face in the shadows. “Thanks.” I stared at the blanket a moment. Then I looked up and said, “So are we here to…?” at the same time he said, “Do you want to…?”
We both laughed.
Then he reached out and stroked the hair back from my face. “We’ll do whatever you want to do.”
My body thrilled at that. Trouble is, I had no idea what I wanted to do. Or rather, I knew what I wanted to do—but not how to do it.
I smiled shyly. “Does that mean we can kiss again?”
His teeth gleamed white in the moonlight, and he leaned forward. “I’d like that.”
My heart pounded, and I drew back slightly. I should tell him. Shouldn’t I? That I was a…
Oh God. What had ever made me think I could do this?
“I’m not, um—I’ve never—”
“Shhh,” Cole’s eyes were half-closed. “Don’t worry.”
He kissed me, and it was every bit as good as the last time. My body softened, and warmth filled me as I rediscovered the taste of him.
His stubbled jaw scraped along my throat as his lips found my neck, kissing and sucking a little until I whimpered.
“Cole…”
He stopped. “You okay?”
“I don’t know…what I’m doing.”
He laughed. “You’re fine. This is going to be fun, I promise.”
“I’m going to be so awkward.”
“No, you won’t be.” He gazed down at me, eyes hazy with lust. “I feel like the luckiest man in the world right now.”
Some of my tension melted away at the sincerity of his words. I shifted on the blanket, hesitated, then tugged his wrist to draw him closer.
He stroked my cheek gently with one thumb. Eventually I sighed and exhaled again, letting out more tension. I squirmed a little. “More,” I whispered.
He reached put and gently ran a hand underneath my shirt, up to my breast. I gasped softly, the sensation of his warm palm on my bare skin making me crazy. His other hand slid up to join, and he cupped my breasts through my bra.
I kissed him more furiously, wanting to rock forward, wanting to touch every inch of him. My long hair whisked along my bare shoulders, and I felt...
Sexy.
Desirable.
It was a novel feeling.
We broke away for a few seconds as he tugged my tank top off. I was panting, unused to the sensation of being this bare, of cool air on my naked skin.
He took me in. “Gorgeous,” he murmured.
My breasts rose and fell with each shallow breath I took. He reached out with one finger to trace the edges of the cups.
I sighed, my head tipping back.
His finger traced my cleavage, sending tiny waves of pleasure down between my legs. He paused with his finger on the front clasp of my bra. His eyes met mine, a question in them. I gave one brief, gasping jerk of my head.
He popped the clasp.
The cups fell away, and the cool air on my breasts was arousing…
…and terrifying.
Now, he would see all of me. He would hurt me, if he wanted to. He would brag to others about how he’d hurt me. I crossed my arms over my chest, feeling silly for doing so, but needing to.
“What’s wrong?” he whispered.
What if my parents were right? What if this was a sin? What if I was a bad person? My breathing grew uneven. No one had ever seen me naked before. This was my last chance to back out. To stay safe. Covered.
“Hey.” His voice was soft. He rested his hands on my shoulders. “It’s okay. Look, I’ll do it too.” He unfastened his pants. Shimmied out of them.
I laughed nervously.
He stripped off his underwear. “See? It’s all out there.”
I did see. His dick was half erect, full and flushed. There was a trimmed thatch of dark hair around it. It didn’t look as off-putting as I’d always imagined dicks would be. I rocked forward a little as the heat and tightness returned to my core and my underwear grew damp. Was this normal? I knew women were supposed to get wet. I hadn’t minded the wetness in my underwear while I’d kissed Cole and Bennett. But things were going slower now. Cole would…see. And what if I was too wet? Or not wet enough? Or I smelled weird?
“You can totally point and laugh if you want,” he offered, with a cocky grin that said he knew his naked body was hot as hell. Still, I appreciated the gesture.
I tried to smile. “I won’t. I mean, I don’t…I… You look good.”
“Your turn,” he said softly.
“I don’t want you to point and laugh,” I whispered.
“I won’t.” There was a tenderness in his voice I had never heard before. “I promise.”
I gave a shaky laugh. “If you promise.”
“I do.”
I let my arms fall away, bringing the bra with them. My nipples were hard and tight. He stared at my breasts with something like reverence. I shook with nerves and with an unexpected surge of emotion. Where was the confidence I’d had the other day when I’d confronted Bennett? Where was that girl, and who was this trembling virgin in her place?
But the strange things was, part of me liked being vulnerable with him. Liked the feeling of trusting someone I shouldn’t. Liked this unexpected tenderness from someone who was so often cruel.
He leaned down again, trailing kisses down my belly, making my back arch. I was ashamed of how much I wanted this, needed this, but the shame was paling in the face of pure desire. He unsnapped my jeans, and I gasped.
He looked up.
“This okay?” he whispered.
I nodded, unable to speak.
He undid the button, and my breath shuddered out of me as he gently urged my hips up and slid my pants down. He tugged them off carefully.
Then I was lying there in just my panties, outdoors, horribly aware that if anyone caught us, I would die of shame. Then Cole leaned over me again, moonlight defining the edges of his biceps as he claimed my mouth. He slowly lowered his hips down against mine, and the contact made me gasp.
I felt his hardness through the cotton of my underwear. Need surged though me, and I wrapped my legs around him. He groaned, rubbing against me, sucking on my lower lip. The pleasure was more intense than anything I’d imagined. I was hot, eager.
He raised himself a few inches above me again. Ran his hand down the flat expanse of my belly, his fingers drifting lightly over my panties. I whimpered, my whole body tingling.
He did it again, and I shifted my hips, desperately seeking more. He laughed softly, the sound both maddening and incredibly sexy. He ran his finger over the cotton, deep between my legs, and I rubbed against the touch, unable to believe the shockwaves I got when his finger pressed against a certain spot.
“Cole,” I whispered.
“More?” He stroked back and forth, and I nearly cried out.
My hips lifted of their own accord, trying to get more pressure, more of his touch. But he stopped altogether.
I had to stifle a shout of frustration.
“You’re gorgeous,” he whispered. And then his lips pressed to my collarbone. Then my breastbone. My belly. He kissed each hipbone.
Then he hovered, right where my thighs met.
His hot breath touched my panties, making me squirm. Slowly, he tugged on the waistband.
There was no time to feel shame or regret. He slid them off me, and then pressed h
is mouth to a spot no one had touched before.
I fell into ecstasy.
When he finally lifted his head, wiping his mouth with his hand and grinning a shit-eating grin, I was dazed. I didn’t know any word but his name.
“Good?” he asked.
“Cole,” I replied, breathlessly.
He crawled up the blanket and propped himself on one elbow, running his finger between my breasts, down my belly, and then over the spot where I was over-sensitized. I gasped, my hips bucking. But he eased me back down, laughing quietly.
“You know,” he said. “I have a single room. We could have done this inside. But I was thinking about—about what you said about becoming an adult here.”
“What?”
“Here. You don’t have to spend your eighteenth birthday in there.” He jerked his head toward the school. “You can spend it here. Where you have at least a little freedom.”
I stared at him, a surge of emotion passing through me. “I want this. I want you.”
“I want you too,” he whispered. His lips closed on mine again. His warm hand cupped my naked breast, his thumb circling my nipple. His other hand drifted over my hip, found the wetness between my legs. I gasped, pushing upward, desperate to feel him, all of him.
He snagged a foil-wrapped packet from his discarded pants. Tore it open with his teeth and rolled on the condom.
I wasn’t nervous anymore. The only thing I felt was hot, desperate need.
He eased himself over me again, his length pressing between my legs. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I spread my legs, my hands clasped at the small of his back, easing him into me.
It only hurt for a moment. Then he was moving, and I followed his lead automatically. The sensation was strange at first, but he kissed my neck, finding my pulse point and making me squirm again. He moved so slowly that each thrust was delicious agony, too much and not enough at once. I panted his name at each of his thrusts, using my hands to force him into me harder, faster. My head tipped back, catching flashes of the moon and stars. His thrusts sped up, and his grunts became more desperate.