Chapter 9 #2
“Better than you are now.”
“How am I now?” I thread my fingers in her hair and bring her to me until we’re forehead-to-forehead.
She stares at my mouth. “A great kisser.”
“I could be better?” No girl has ever said that to me. They only want to change me. To tie me down to them.
“Yes,” she says with a shy smile that stiffens my randy beast more.
Fuck me, my beast digs Sorrow’s shy smile. Damn. Never would I have thought a timid, quiet girl would get me so hard that there’s precum leaking from my hard-as-steel rod.
“Shall we give it a try? This bettering of my kisses?”
She nods.
Anticipation kicks up my heartbeat. My cock throbs and twitches. Sliding my hand under her hair, I cup the back of her neck and lean in. Her eyes widen. Her pupils dilate. Her gaze drops to my mouth. I lick my lips. An idea pops into my head.
“You initiate.”
A look of horror flashes across her desire-laden face.
She shakes her head. “I can’t.”
“I believe in you.” No one has ever believed in this strong girl, and I’ll be the first.
“You do?”
“Our kiss, it’s the best I’ve had, Sorrow.”
“Really?”
“Truly.”
Her face softens. My chest aches. How can one word get her to look at me like I’m her savior? I’m not. I’m the predator, and she is my timid mouse.
I lean back, forcing her to lean into me if she wishes to. She sets her small hands on my broad shoulders and wiggles forward until her knees hit the back cushion and we’re hip to hip. Her hair falls around her face like a waterfall.
“Is this good?”
“More than good. This is better.” I tuck strands of her hair behind her ears.
“We’re being better together.” Another shy smile from her.
Together. It’s a word I’ve struck from my vocabulary.
Options is the main word in my bag of words.
I don’t listen to the alarm bells in my head.
I watch and wait for her next move with my heart thumping hard against my rib cage, and a boner that could pound her tight, wet cunt into oblivion with how hard I am for her.
Her eyes on me, she stares at my mouth. I hold my breath, not wanting to interrupt whatever thoughts are running through that smart head of hers. Flunk math, my ass. Math is fucking hard.
Sorrow does something unexpected. Something a girl hasn’t given me before, and it does a number on my head, my heart, and my randy beast. A triple threat? Damn.
Sorrow leans in, and with her long eyelashes, she skims their softness on my forehead, my nose, and my mouth. “Butterfly kisses,” she says, like I don’t know what they are. I smirk. Then she rubs our noses. “Eskimo kisses.” I know that one too. I smile.
She drops closed-mouth kisses on my mouth, one right after the other. “Pecks.” She says the one word with so much satisfaction in her voice, and I chortle. She smiles back. “Nice, aren’t they?”
“The bomb.” I waggle my eyebrows.
She laughs.
I puff out my chest and smile big. I made Sorrow Sophia laugh. It was the reason I almost dropped her when I said some something-something, and she laughed and told me I was funny.
No girl has noticed my humor before, and if they did, they never said what Sorrow said. I return my thoughts to something else I like about Sorrow. Her unconventional kisses.
Jesus H. Christ, never would I have thought those kinds of kisses would get me rock hard. I have to give it to Sorrow; the pecks were nice, and my randy beast agrees. He is still upright and pulsing against my abs.
“Earlier, you said you compartmentalize by locking down the emotions before doing the act.” Her hands fall from my shoulders and wrap around my neck. “Wouldn’t the kiss be even better if you felt something as you’re committing the act?”
“Are you saying I didn’t feel something when I kissed you?”
“Well, did you?” she asks.
“You didn’t feel me getting hard?”
She averts her gaze. I bring it back to me with my knuckle under her chin.
She clears her throat. “That’s different. I read in my human sexuality textbook that a man can have an erection from all sorts of things, like a full bladder or in their sleep. A man’s erection is involuntary and can happen at any time.”
I can’t argue with that one.
“Did you feel something here?” She sets her palm on the spot over my heart.
I knock aside her palm and cross my arms. “I’m pleading the fifth.” Why am I annoyed? Is it because I did feel something other than the deep ache in my chest?
Her eyes light up before she hides her ah-ha moment with a blink. “I didn’t feel anything either.”
Bullshit. But I have to give her credit for steering the conversation away from how I did feel something to how she’s getting none of the feels.
Fuck sakes, we’re both unwilling to acknowledge that we did have feelings during and after the kiss.
Sorrow’s butterfly kisses, Eskimo kisses, and pecks destroyed me for other girls, but I’m still locking down my emotions.
Before we graduate, I’ll say goodbye to Sorrow, wish her luck in whichever big city she moves to, and then hire the best security money can buy to keep an eye on her for me. Any guy who comes near her, I’ll have security break their legs.
Once I approve of a guy who fits what I want near Sorrow, I’ll end the security contract. The motherfucker I approve of better love the hell out of her.
The thought doesn’t sit well with me.
Fuck security.
I’ll do the watching over of my timid mouse.
But can I let her go only for her to find comfort in another guy’s arms while I move from one casual hookup to another? My overthinking is a mindfuck, and I ignore the thoughts to focus on the present.
Sorrow is looking at me with her eyebrows slanted to her nose. “Are you okay? You were staring off into space.”
I skim my knuckle across her lower lip. “Just thinking of our next kiss and how I plan on doing everything you asked for. No holding back. I tell you how the kiss makes me feel.” I lick my lips and stare at hers. “Does that work for you?”
She nods.
“Ready?” I grasp her chin and smooth the pad of my thumb across her cheek.
“Not yet. I have a question.” She wears down her bottom lip with her teeth.
“Shoot.” I’ll calm her nervousness and uncertainty.
“Um, thank you for giving me my first kiss, but what you said earlier can’t be true, that the kiss was the best you’ve ever had.”
“Are you calling me a liar?” I cup her hip. “Are you saying I don’t know my own body?” I stroke her through her pants. She trembles. “I would never lie about a kiss,” I say low near her ear.
I lean fully into her. Put pressure on her sex with my fingers. She gasps. Her eyes close. Her next words are so soft I strain to hear them.
“You’ve kissed lots of girls.”
My past is coming back to bite me in the ass. Fuck me. “Quantity isn’t the same as quality.”
She opens her eyes. There is fire in their depths. Her jealousy and anger are coming out to play, and I am here for it. I love me a good fight, and what Sorrow says next is all the ammunition I need. “Should I kiss other guys to know whether your kiss was the best or not?”
“Fuck no. Exclusive. Three weeks. You’re only fucking kissing me. Understood?”
“Yes.” She lowers her eyes but not her head.
Timid.
Unsure.
I need her to be the lioness slumbering inside the tiny, timid mouse.
“Again, Sorrow.” I clamp my meaty paws on her hips, dig my nails into her flesh, and rock her hips into mine at the same time I lift.
“Yes. Yes! I’ll kiss only you. Satisfied?” She tips her chin. Her nostrils flare. I chuckle. There’s the fighter.
This version of her is better than her quiet stoicism.
Her anger breathes life into her, into me.
I’ll fuck up any guy who comes near her.
I haven’t had this much stake in something, in someone, since a girl I gave my heart to when I was thirteen stomped on it until it stopped beating.
Never again will I go through the pain of getting my heart broken by a girl.
I do the breaking. I call the shots, except for with Sorrow.
I doubt I’ll fall for her. I asked her to do the breaking up. That’s different from getting blindsided. Sorrow and I are on the same page.
We’ve pinky sworn not to catch feelings for one another.
I have a feeling she’ll stick to the promise, just like I’m planning on doing.
I don’t want to give Phoebe the wrong message by kissing her, and no way in fucking hell will I watch Sorrow kiss one of Rush’s buddies.
Those motherfuckers have darker needs than I do, from what my hookups have said.
I slide her over and over my erection beneath my pants. We’ll kiss and touch one another to our hearts’ content, but we won’t lose our hearts to the other. We can do this. We’re strong people.
“Yes.” Her eyes hood over and her lips part. “I . . . That feels so good, Trace. Keep doing it, please.” Her words fall on a whisper of longing. Her body tenses, like it doesn’t know how to relax.
“Don’t think, Sorrow. Go with it. Surrender, baby.”
“Don’t—”
“Would you rather I call you Tragedy?” I smirk.
“That’s depressing.”
“Exactly. Put your hands on my shoulders.”
She lets go of my neck and does as I asked.
“Rock your hips over mine.”
Again, she does as I ask, and I am in heaven when the heat from her sex glides over my erection.
“That’s it. Rock on my boner.” She sinks in, and cocooning the outline of my cock, she rocks back and forth.
Her warmth, her wetness soaking through her tights .
. . “Faster, baby.” She rocks faster and goes deeper with her hips.
I stroke her through her layers. She’s wet, so fucking wet that her pussy juices coat my fingers.