Chapter 34
34
OLIVIA
S chool is back in session the next day. After classes, Tuck and I head to the biggest hill in town and go sledding while Hudson and Summer are at the library working on a project for a class they’re taking together.
The hill is packed with sledders. The stark white landscape is dotted with color from sleds, jackets, and young kids’ snowsuits.
It’s certainly not a stealthy place for me and Tuck to spend time together.
But I’m finding myself less and less careful about keeping what’s happening between us hidden. I still don’t think I’m quite ready to tell anyone about it. Not even Summer, which makes me feel bad, because she’s never hidden anything like this from me. But I just need … a little more time.
It’s like I’m on a visitation deck on a skyscraper. I need to gather my courage before approaching the edge and coming face to face with just how far the drop down is.
Because I’ve never felt higher than I do with Tuck, and once all of our friends know about us, it’s going to be real—so real that there will be no fooling myself about how far I’ll go tumbling down if Tuck hurts me like Ryan did.
But as we’re spending more time together, that worry has grown from a loud, blaring warning in my head to a tiny, but still insidious, whisper that I’m able to tune out most of the time. But not all the time.
Sitting at the front of the sled between Tuck’s legs, my back pressed against his chest, feeling it rumble with laughter as we slide down the steep hill makes me feel like I’m floating.
While we’re standing at the top of the hill, I catch him off guard and push him into a big pile of snow. He leaps up and scoops me into his arms, tossing me into it, and this degenerates into a snowball fight as we run across the hill, dodging sleds.
When he catches me, he slings me over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He picks up the sled and we walk home like that, me perched on his shoulder.
When he takes the opportunity to plant a possessive slap on my ass, I don’t even care who’s looking.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“Summer’s still with Hudson in the library, right?”
“Should be,” I answer.
“Your place, then. I’m hungry.” There’s a rasp in his voice.
“We don’t really have a lot of food in the place right now.”
“Don’t worry,” he says, that rasp now thick with more gravel. “I don’t think I’ll have a hard time finding what I’m in the mood for.”
My thighs clench, the dense muscle of his forearm feeling hot on the backs of them as he carries me.
“Are you going to put me down now?” I giggle as he walks towards my door.
“No,” he says, letting the sled drop onto the snow in front of my house. He stops in front of the door and holds his free hand palm-up behind his back. “Key.”
My stomach flips at his firm tone. Still dangling on his shoulder, I fish my key out of my pocket and hand it to him. He doesn’t put me down after he’s opened and carried me through the door, either. He toes off his shoes, and at his command, I do the same, letting them fall in front of him. He steps over them on his march to the kitchen.
“Where are we going?” I ask.
“I told you,” he says. “I’m hungry.”
Those last two words are a growl on his voice. Heat streaks through me as his hand slides up the back of my thighs and squeezes my ass. He steps into the kitchen and sets me sitting down on the counter.
“For you,” he finishes, his blue eyes flashing.
He crushes his mouth to mine, his kiss rough and insistent. His scent dances in my nose, cinnamon and sandalwood. He’s sweating from so much physical activity under all those layers, adding a musky undertone of raw masculinity that makes me feral.
He steps forward, nudging himself between my thighs. I spread them wide, rolling my hips against the front of his pants. His lips vibrate as he groans into our kiss. His hands grip the top of my legs, his right thumb tracing the outline of my hipbone through my jeans.
He drags his lips down, dropping hot kisses around the outline of my jaw before raking them lower. His lips hit just the right spot on my neck to make a sharp pang of want detonate between my thighs, and I tilt my hips into him harder, desperate for all the friction I can find.
He pushes back. Flames pulse through me when I feel his hard outline between my legs.
He unzips my sweater and slides it off me, tossing it away carelessly. His hands wrap behind me and he tugs my ass closer to the edge of the counter before falling to his knees between my legs.
My nipples are sharp points underneath my shirt. A knot of anticipation tightens inside me, heat blasting between my thighs as Tuck reaches up to the waist of my jeans. I feel the hot scrape of his knuckles against my stomach as he undoes my button and slowly slides my zipper down.
I spear my hands into his thick, messy hair.
Anxiety hits me when my eyes flit to the clock on our microwave. It’s later than I thought. “Summer should be home soon,” I say, though my voice is still thick with want.
Tuck grabs a firm hold of my pants and tugs them down. I wiggle my hips so he can pull them past my butt where I’m seated.
“Is that right?” he asks, utterly unconcerned.
“She could walk in …” The words send electricity shooting through me. My eyes fasten on the front door. The knowledge that the doorknob could turn with Tuck’s face buried between my legs makes my clit tighten with arousal.
“I guess she could,” Tuck drawls, shimmying back to pull my pants off my legs. He kisses his way back up my thighs, each hot press of his lips making sparks dance on my flesh.
I suck in a gasp when the tip of his tongue drags up my panties, tracing my slit.
“Fuck,” he growls. “You’re so fucking wet for me.”
He’s right. My panties are soaked. My center is a hot, wet mess for him. I’m going crazy as Tuck kisses around my upper thighs, stomach flipping and flopping in torturous anticipation.
“Please, Tuck,” I plead.
The rough pads of his thumbs tease around the elastic waist of my panties while his mouth continues to lavish attention between my thighs, but only on the places that make the tension in my body curl tighter, not the one place that would relieve it.
“You’re so easy to tease,” he rasps. “So easy you’d think it would get less fun. But it hasn’t.”
Mewling with want, I tilt my hips to press my center close to him, hoping for some contact, some friction, to dull the sharp ache of need that’s stabbing into me, but Tuck draws back just enough to frustrate me.
Tension winds tighter inside me when he finally draws back to pull my panties down my legs. Heat swells in my cheeks when I look down and see the gleam of appreciation in Tuck’s eyes, his gaze fixed on my wet opening.
A low, rumbly hum of appreciation pulls from his throat.
Finally, the wet scrap of fabric is on the kitchen floor next to where he’s kneeling between me, and I’m utterly bare for him.
“Fuck, Olivia,” he rasps. “This pussy is so perfect. It’s a fucking work of art.”
When his tongue drags across me, my body goes taut with pleasure. My hands curl into his messy hair, trying to steady myself. Tuck teases me, licking languidly at his leisure. His growls of satisfaction add a vibration that heightens the pleasure rippling over me.
“More,” I pant, bucking my hips, my naked ass pressing into the countertop as Tuck feasts on me.
Tuck’s lips delve into my folds, lapping up my juices. My stomach is a tight, hot coil of pressure, expanding and radiating through my body. My lower back tingles, my stomach leaps into my chest, my body going crazy as sheer bliss throttles through me.
When Tuck slants his tongue over my clit, a moan leaps from me.
That’s his cue to stop being so leisurely.
The kitchen is full of my moans and yelps as Tuck devours me, his lips lavishing my folds, his tongue curling around my tight nub with the perfect amount of force.
I lock my ankles behind him, clenching my thighs around his face, feeling the rough abrasion of his stubble against my sensitive skin. His fingertips kneed into the softness of my hips as he groans and curses in satisfaction between my legs.
When the flat of his tongue passes over my clit at just the right angle, I unravel. My climax detonates inside me, hurtling through me and making my limbs shake. My eyes clench, my fists tightening in Tuck’s hair as I ride out my release.
Tuck’s on his feet to give me something to lean into after my orgasm wrings me dry. Aftershocks of bliss are still flowing over me when he lifts my chin with the back of his knuckle and presses his lips to mine.
My eyes pop open when I taste myself on his lips. I taste it even more when his tongue presses into my mouth and slides against my own.
Tuck presses his forehead against mine. His hooded eyes have a drugged look; his lips are swollen from our kiss and still glistening with my juices.
“We made it,” he says.
“Huh?”
A lopsided grin makes one of his dimples pop. “We finished before Summer got back.”
I huff out a shallow laugh. “Right. That’s good.”
“Would’ve been quite a way for her to find out about us.”
A breath whooshes out of me. “That’s for sure.”
“Was it worth it?”
“Was what worth it?” Tuck needs to stop talking in riddles when my brain is still scrambled from coming on his face.
His eyes crawl down to my naked bottom half. “Was the orgasm worth the risk?”
I roll my eyes and hit his chest with the palm of my hand. “Stop asking questions you know the answer to just to boost your ego.”
Tuck steps aside so I can hop off the counter. He leans against it, arms folded over his chest, eyeing me appreciatively as I get dressed.
“It’s a hell of a paradox,” he drawls. “You putting more clothes on is the opposite of what I want. But seeing you actually getting dressed is sexy as hell.”
I shake my head. He’s ridiculous. “You’ll have to bring up that dilemma in your next philosophy class.”
“Don’t tempt me. I would.”
Once I’ve zippered and buttoned my jeans, I turn towards him. He takes a big step forward, eating up the space between us, and slides his forefinger through one of my belt loops and gently tugs me closer.
“Hey, Lockley.”
“Yeah?” I ask, my stomach flipping at the soft way he’s looking at me. Something about this moment is more intimate than when his face was just between my legs.
“I had a great time today. And not just this,” he slices his eyes to the spot on the countertop he had me seated on. “All of it.”
Warmth bubbles in my chest. “Me, too,” I nod. “All of it.”