Twenty-Eight #2
“Can you at least keep the girls you’re hooking up with quiet? It’s not going to look very good if people think we’re dating but you’re still sleeping around.”
I rear back, my eyebrows bunching together. “Stace… I’m not sleeping around.”
“Okay.”
“I’m serious,” I promise. “I haven’t slept with anyone since summer. Since we made our deal.”
And every day of celibacy hits me like a freight train when I’m around Stacy.
I revel in the way relief washes over her face but she schools her expression quick enough. “Okay,” she says again.
“Who told you I was sleeping around?”
She shrugs. “Doesn’t matter.”
“It does.”
“This is fake ,” she reiterates, her eyes cutting to me.
“Is it?” I challenge, gripping the bottoms of her set slightly in my fingers.
Her voice is small when she answers, “Yes.”
“Mhm.” I lean in to drop a kiss on her bare shoulder. “Let me get this straight. You have no real feelings for me? This is strictly transactional?”
“Strictly transactional,” she repeats breathlessly as I slide my hands over her midriff.
I chuckle against her skin as I press a kiss to her neck. “You don’t feel anything at all? Not even physically?”
Goosebumps break out across Stacy’s neck. She doesn’t respond to my question, shaking her head instead.
“Right,” I go on, running my hands over her torso. I can feel Stacy’s breathing pick up and I can’t pretend my heart isn’t beating out of my chest. “Just to confirm, you don’t want me, then?”
A small puff of air leaves Stacy’s mouth as she shakes her head for a third time. “No?” Her voice is a question as a shiver runs through her body at my touch.
Stacy Dunn is a terrible fucking liar.
“No?” I let my teeth graze along the crook of her neck, reveling in the erratic way her breath leaves her lungs. “So, if I stick my hand down into these tiny fucking shorts, you won’t be soaking wet for me?”
“Reece.” My name falls off her tongue like a plea, her body pushing back against me instinctively .
I meet her gaze in the mirror. Her face is flushed, completely pink as her chest rises and falls sporadically. Her hand reaches back and tangles in my hair as my fingers inch for the waistband of her shorts, my heavy breathing matching hers.
“We’re only supposed to be touching in front of people,” she gasps. “There isn’t anyone here to see.”
“Is it fucked that I kind of wish there were?” I murmur against her skin. “I wish there were so they could see that you’re mine, that this isn’t fake at all. So they could see the way you react when I touch you. The way you’re about to come for me.”
Stacy’s fingers tighten slightly in my hair, a mix of a groan and a sigh leaving her parted lips. Her eyes are assessing me cautiously as my hand drifts down the length of her torso. I stop right above the elastic waistline, pressing my palm against her abdomen.
“You can tell me to stop,” I remind her, the warm skin of her stomach tingling against my fingers.
She shakes her head in the mirror, her jaw clenching and unclenching a couple times before she squeaks out, “I don’t want you to stop.”
The admission alone nearly brings me to my knees but I stay standing.
I hold Stacy’s heated gaze as my right hand slips into the waistband of her spandex, my left arm encircling her waist to pull her closer to me.
I swallow against my dry throat as Stacy’s warm, soft skin brushes against my fingers but I push on despite the nerves turning over in my stomach.
I’ve never been anxious about hooking up with a girl, whether it be sex or something less. Not since my first time in high school, I guess, so it’s strange that touching Stacy is having such an effect on me.
Seems like everything Stacy does has an effect on me.
However, the nerves dissipate quickly as I slide my index finger up Stacy’s center to find that I was right in my earlier assumption.
“I knew it,” I mutter as Stacy gasps and pushes back into me. “I knew you wanted me, too. Fuck, you’re soaked, Stace.”
Stacy whimpers, her head falling back onto my collarbone. “I know,” she admits.
My heart is a thunderous roar in my ears as I push two fingers inside of Stacy. She gasps again, her eyes fluttering closed in the mirror as her pussy clenches around my fingers.
“Holy shit, angel,” I growl, pumping my fingers in and out of her rhythmically. “So wet and so fucking tight .”
My name is falling from Stacy’s lips like a prayer while I marvel at the sight of her in the mirror.
The blush that was in her face is creeping down her whole body, her eyes squeezed shut as she bucks against my hand.
The sounds she’s making could raise me from the dead and it’s taking all of my restraint not to bend her over the bench press behind us and bury myself inside of her.
No, not yet. Not here. But soon.
Instead, I graze my left hand up her torso and into her pink sports bra, pinching her taut nipple while my fingers move to circle her clit. This earns me a breathy moan, louder than before as Stacy pushes her ass back into me.
I drop my lips to her neck again, nipping at the skin and making her pant as I quicken my fingers. Stacy sucks her bottom lip into her teeth in the reflection, threading her fingers more aggressively through my hair as her eyes squeeze tighter.
“It feels so good,” she whines as she continues to rock her hips against my hand, grinding her ass back into my erection.
“Yeah?” I murmur, rubbing my thumb continuously over her nipple while my fingers on her clit switch back and forth between hurried circles and languid, lazy strokes. “Why don’t you open your eyes and watch, baby? Watch me fuck you with my fingers. Watch yourself while you come.”
Stacy’s eyes fly open at my command, glassy and hungry as she grinds her pussy against my hand. I know if anyone walked in right now we’d be fucked, but hell, I don’t care. I don’t give a shit because the desperate moans falling from Stacy’s mouth are enough to make me throw away all inhibition.
“Don’t stop,” she begs, holding my gaze in the mirror.
Her words spur me on, my fingers swirling her clit before moving to dip inside of her again. A strangled cry rips out of her throat when I press my thumb to her clit with two fingers still inside of her and it’s taking every ounce of willpower I have not to say to hell with it after all.
But our first time can’t be like this no matter how hard it might be to resist her right now.
“You like this, Stace?” I croon, trying to focus on the task at hand.
Literally.
Stacy nods sloppily against me, her chest rising and falling sporadically as I palm her tit.
“Good. You gonna come for me, sweetheart? God, I want to know what you look like when you come.”
“Yes,” she promises without breaking eye contact, her eyes widening as her nails dig into my scalp and left forearm. “ Reece, fuck. Shit, I’m gonna—”
“I know, angel,” I mutter into her ear as she falls apart, her sentence interrupted by a wild moan.
Her pussy pulses around me as her thighs shake, her whole body damn near collapsing as her jaw goes slack.
I hold her steady with my left arm as she takes everything she needs from me, grinding against my hand until she slouches back against me with a shudder.
Her breathing is ragged as I pull out of her, bringing my fingers up to my face and sticking them in my mouth to clean them off. Stacy’s staring at me in the mirror, her expression a cross between amused, horrified, and satiated.
I lick the last of Stacy off my fingers before smirking at her. She tastes so fucking good, so sweet, just like I knew she would.
“Wha—wh… ?” Stacy attempts to speak, her eyebrows knitting together as if she’s trying to make sense of the last few minutes of her life.
“Told you I don’t give a shit about Tashia,” I tell her with a wink before side-stepping around her body and pressing my lips to hers for a second too short. “Let me know when you want to talk Halloween plans. Miles is dead set on this matching costume thing.”
And with that, I stride out of the weightroom, out of the gym, leaving Stacy alone to reflect on the feelings I know damn well now that she has for me.