Totally and Completely Fine(23)

I saw goose bumps rise on his skin.

“I got it when I was thirteen,” he said. “Forged my mom’s signature.”

“Was she mad when she found out?”

“She cried; she loved it so much.”

I wanted to know more, but Ben stopped any further questions I might have had with a kiss. His mouth was hot and wet, the kiss sloppy but in the best way, his hands moving upward.

I stopped thinking about anything but what his reaction would be once he reached the top of my thighs.

He went completely still, and then lifted his head, eyes gleaming.

“Lauren, Lauren, Lauren,” he said, almost like a song in his accent. “How long have you been walking around without your pants?”

I’d slipped off my underwear before coming to the trailer, but I wasn’t going to tell him that. Let him believe I was the kind of woman who went around bare-assed.

I wanted him to touch me between my thighs, but his hands went back around my hips instead, fingers digging into my ass as he pulled me forward. I choked back a gasp as his cock slid along me right where I needed it.

With my hands on his shoulders, I repeated the movement, this time his hips thrusting up to meet me.

“Fucking hell,” he said, fingers now fumbling with the buttons on my dress.

The bra was the prettiest one I owned. I don’t know what had inspired me to bring it to Philadelphia, but I thanked my lucky stars that I had. The black lace cupped me perfectly, my cleavage just about to spill over.

Ben stared at my breasts like he’d been given a gift.

I liked that look.

“I’ve been thinking about these gorgeous tits all week,” he said, pressing his mouth between them.

I sighed.

“I kept imagining how you’d sound when I touched you,” Ben said, voice in my ear, hips rocking against mine. “How you’d feel against my cock.”

I couldn’t speak, I could only moan.

“I want to taste you,” he said. “Here.” His hand coming around to the side of my breast, his thumb stroking me there.

“Yes,” I said.

“And here,” he said, his fingers going lower, and I lifted my hips up so he could cup me, fingers thick and warm and perfect.

Beneath my palm, I could feel the thrum of his heartbeat.

“God, you’re beautiful,” Ben murmured.

The look in his eyes was almost like reverence. I held his face and kissed him, my hair falling down around us, Ben’s fingers fumbling with the clasp of my bra. I felt it unhook, then Ben’s hands smoothed up over my shoulders and pushed the remaining fabric away.

He lifted my breasts together so he could bury his face in the valley there.

“I love the way you smell,” he said. “Like cinnamon. Butter. Sugar.”

I felt him take a breath, his chest expanding beneath my hands.

He ran a tongue across my cleavage. “Delicious.”

I pulled his mouth up to mine.

He hummed, sliding a finger inside of me. I untied the drawstring of his pants, reaching in so I could stroke him. His eyes closed, head back.

I wanted this so badly. Wanted to feel. To forget.

“It seems like you spend a lot of time on your bike,” I murmured against his lips.

If he was surprised by the non sequitur, he didn’t look it.

I felt wild and free and out of control. That bravado overloaded every sane thought in my head. I was stupid with lust.

I didn’t care about anything but this.

I freed his cock and positioned myself above it.

“But I’m about to give you the ride of your life.”

Chapter 15

Then

With finals approaching, Spencer was back to his once-common routine of coming to our house every day after school. Only, this time it was him and me walking back, sitting at the kitchen counter, heads bent together studying for math tests. It wasn’t until we’d been doing it for a few weeks that I even bothered to ask where Gabe was.

“Practice,” Spencer said.

“For what?”

“He joined the football team,” he said.

Spencer hadn’t been the only one to fill out. Gabe had grown several inches and packed on enough muscle that the football coach had stopped him in the hallway and asked him to try out. Apparently, he’d been on the team for months.

“Huh,” I said.

I wondered if Mom knew.

She’d probably be thrilled. A football star in the family.

“He’s not that good,” Spencer said. “But he doesn’t really have to be.”

True. Central wasn’t really known for its football team. As much as I hated to admit it, Mikey was the school’s star athlete—and everyone talked about how he was probably going to go to the minors and then, of course, he’d be in the majors. Because everything always went right for Mikey Garrison.

He and Jessica were engaged. Or pre-engaged. Or something. All I knew was that he’d given her a ring and she waved it around wherever she went. Once in the bathroom, I overheard her calling it a “promise ring,” saying it represented her and Mikey’s decision to stay “pure” before marriage, and I had to put my entire fist in my mouth to keep from laughing.

“Do you want to go over last week’s pop quiz?” Spencer asked.