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“So, that was…interesting,” he says low enough to not be heard. “What…happened back there?”
“Uhhh, nothing really. She changed her mind.” It’s not a whole lie, just a partial one.
“Well, you came out, looking like she’d made you eat a cockroach.”
I almost feel like that would’ve been easier to recover from.
19
Harley
Adam’s dorm is the same size as mine and Kenna’s, but it’s definitely tidier. The others are starting Man of Steel in Levi and Silas’s adjoining room. We’re supposedly making popcorn.
His and Dan’s beds are stacked like bunks with their desks on the opposite side of the room.
“Are you the top or bottom?” I ask as we walk in.
“Bottom. Which do you prefer?” he asks, toeing off his boots.
“Hmm, I like to switch it up,” I say, nibbling my lip.
His face scrunches in confusion as he looks over at the bunks.
“I’m not talking about the bunk,” I say on a laugh.
He sits down on the bed, face pensive as his thoughts seem to churn. I walk up to him, pushing on his chest lightly. He leans back on the pillow, his wide honey-brown eyes focused on my lips. I climb up onto his lap, straddling his hips and pulling a gasp from him. My shirt rides up, and his eyes follow the movement. His trembling hands reach for my calves, lightly tracing down toward my ankles.
I reach for the hem, pulling it up over my head. Adam swallows, but his eyes lock into mine—so respectful.
A group walks by in the hall, laughter drifting through the door. The sound of our labored breathing is the only noise after they pass.
My hands move from the bottom of his shirt up, pushing the tiny buttons through the slits of the fabric. I glance up at him after each one, and his eyes begin to roam over my pebbled skin, sending shivers down my back.
I finally reach the top one closest to his throat. He gulps as I spread the fabric, revealing the toned, muscular ripples of his stomach. The dusting of blonde hair in the center of his chest moves as his breath rises and falls.
I lean down to kiss the hollow point at the base of his throat, feeling his speeding pulse under my lips.
His hands suddenly seize my waist, and I gasp at the unexpected contact.
He’s done letting me control this, apparently. One hand reaches up to hold the back of my neck, gently forcing my head down.
Our mouths are as close as possible without touching when he speaks, “I get what you meant about being on top…”
His lips claim mine with an unhinged passion, revealing his desire for me. Things are different this time. My chest is pressed to him, and we kiss like it’s our sustaining life force. My hands are running through his hair as I grind on his hips.
I suck his bottom lip in, and he boldly moves both hands under my butt. He squeezes, breathing heavily into my mouth. This is a borderline mauling, and he grunts, lifting me up to rise onto his knees and lay me down on the bed. A part of his weight settles over me, but he holds most of it up.
He’s in full control, demanding my attention to where his hands are exploring my outer thighs and butt. He won’t stray to the good parts, not even my chest. His mouth starts to trail over my ear and neck, using his tongue to taste my skin. I’m on fire everywhere, senses overloaded. I’m itching for him to touch me.
My hand reaches over his jeans to get a better idea of what he’s working with. The change in him is immediate as his entire body locks up.
“What?” I whisper, my hand still holding him.
“I…I can’t…” His breathing is getting worse even though we stopped.
“I want it,” I rasp, bold and honest.
“I…you have no idea how badly I want it too…” He’s choked up, barely capable of forming words.
