20. Jason
20
JASON
I strolled down the sidewalk and looked at my phone again.
SB: Just a reminder, the library is dealing with a water main issue again and it isn’t open for tonight’s tutoring session.
She used punctuation and all, even in texts. I shook my head, entertained, as I went to my contact list and changed her number’s information.
No more SB , for Second-best. I typed in her name and looked over her texts once more.
Laura: I can meet you at O’Henry’s instead. It is usually quiet on Thursdays.
Laura: If you get these messages, please look for me in a booth near the back.
I shoved my phone into my pocket as I reached the diner’s door. Maybe calling it a bar was more suitable. It served some cheap alcohol, but like the dinky hole-in-the-wall that the establishment was, it was a crossover of a gathering place for people who didn’t want to spend a lot of money or be bothered by too many freshmen. The owner, an eccentric old grump, demanded that his clientele be age twenty-one and up, regardless of their buying booze or not.
I strolled toward the back, not in a rush to reach Laura. The more I measured out my steps, the longer I could try to prepare myself for the back-and-forth pulls where she was concerned.
Wanting her and despising her were wearing on me, and I was losing faith that I could keep a firm control on my desire.
You’ve got to be fucking kidding me.
I nearly groaned as I spotted her near the back.
In a tank top—probably because the AC sucked in here—she showed me too much of her flawless skin.
Beneath the table, her bare legs proved that she was wearing a fucking skirt, not shorts or pants like usual.
But it was her hair, extra full and slightly mussed, that made my dick harder.
Seeing her a little unkempt added to her allure. Like she could look fantastic put together and proper but look even hotter wild and disheveled.
This girl was a living example of how some men wanted a partner who was a cook in the kitchen, a lady in the living room, and a whore in bed.
Me.
I was some men.
I wanted Laura in any way I could have her. As my target to bully so I could release this pent-up anger at her dad. As my lover so I could fuck her until she passed out.
“Oh.” She looked up, stunning me with her expressive face. “Hi.”
I swallowed hard and nodded once. I was too on edge to speak. I had no focus, just obsessed with being near her.
With having her.
Instead of sitting across from her, I dipped to slide onto the vinyl cushion she had claimed.
“What—” She sat up, furrowing her brow as I nudged her to scoot in while I took the space next to her. Caging her into the seat would be hell on my nerves. I was a stupid glutton for punishment to torment myself like this.
But I couldn’t fucking help it.
I was that possessive of her.
“Okay.” She frowned, shifting on the seat again as she reached for the papers and books she’d brought. As she opened the book and glanced at me, I stifled the urge to groan at how good she smelled. How warm she felt. How tempting she was.
No. Don’t.
It’d kill me, but I had to refrain from anything more.
I could look. I could stare. I could dream. But until I could find a mental truce between wanting her and hating her, I refused to act on this desire yanking me toward her.
So, that was what I did. I didn’t speak or move. Keeping my arm resting behind her, propped on the back of the vinyl cushion, I stared at her and repeated the mantra in my head.
Don’t.
Don’t even think about it.
She paused in whatever she was lecturing about. With a sigh, she frowned and tapped her pencil on the book. “So, it’s going to be another one of those nights.”
“What nights?” I asked.
She faced me with mock surprise. “Oh. He speaks.”
“What kind of nights?” I asked.
“Ones where you do that brooding, hulking silent treatment.”
I didn’t reply, mesmerized by how gorgeous she was. With her Chinese father and Irish mother, she was a mix of some sexy-as-fuck genes, unique and exotic like no other.
“Would it kill you to concentrate?” she asked, partly snarky but more impatient about it.
“I am.”
A fucking bomb could go off and I wouldn’t tear my attention from her.
She frowned at me. “All you’re doing is staring.”
I slid closer, scowling to have to deprive myself. Staring wasn’t all I wanted to do.
Fuck, she smells good. I narrowed my eyes, damning her. I hated that I knew that she felt good, too. Tasted good.
Her lower lip dropped at my insistence to crowd her in, and I nearly growled at her innocent surprise.
When she lowered her gaze and bit her lip, I fisted my hand to keep myself from reaching for her. Nervous, she cleared her throat and glanced up at me. “I… I get it.”
“What?”
“I understand,” she admitted.
She understood how rabid I was for her and hated that I wanted her at all? “What do you think you understand?”
Volleying her gaze back and forth between my face and the book, she hesitated. “I understand, or, well, I assume that you…”
Dammit, she was a siren. The challenge, the fight, the hunt. All those forms of pursuit turned me on, and with her coy and timid like this, I was getting harder by the second.
“That you blew me off Tuesday night because it’s not easy for you to be near me.”
She was almost right. I’d only missed tutoring on Tuesday because of those makeup tests. But it wasn’t easy to be near her when I was possessed with the need to fuck her hard.
“What makes you assume that?” I asked instead of correcting her about why I hadn’t shown up last time.
“Obviously, because of what happened before.” She frowned at me. “I didn’t realize it until I texted you about the change of location for tonight.”
“Huh?”
“It’s more of a hardship to be near me after we… kissed.”
Now she was speaking the fucking truth.
“Because I’m a bad kisser and inexperienced and…” She shrugged. “But that doesn’t have to be an obstacle. I mean, it’s not like that’s going to happen again.”
I laughed once, amused that she could think like this. At the same time, without taking my eyes off her, I reached my hand out to slam the book shut.
Her slight flinch pleased me, but I really liked how she didn’t look away either.
“Says who?”
“What?” She dropped her gaze to my lips.
“Says who?” I repeated.
“I’m… what? Who’s saying that it’s not going to happen again?”
I nodded, sliding in a little more just to be rewarded with her hitched breath.
Chemistry snapped and sizzled between us. This undercurrent of attraction felt like we were hanging on to a live wire.
I’d be damned if she thought she could sit here and tell me that nothing was happening.
“I guess I am.” She nodded, but her furrowed brow ruined her attempt at a confident answer.
“You think so?” I challenged.
She swallowed, not giving me a reply.
“I’m going to let you in on a little secret I really wish I never realized.” I leaned in, encouraged by her uncertain expression. If I had to guess, she was torn between wanting to push me away or kiss me.
“I’m not asking for your secrets.”
I grunted. “You don’t ask for anything at all.”
“Isn’t that a good thing?”
I shook my head. “Not when it would make my fucking day if you asked me to kiss you again. Not when I jerk off to the fantasy of your asking me to stuff my dick into your tight cunt.”
Her lips parted again, and I enjoyed the shock and awe shining in her eyes.
“Just between me and you,” I said, “I’ve got a secret problem of thinking about you way too much.”
“Sorry,” she whispered, too hushed for it to be sincere.
“I can admit that I’ve got feelings for you, Laura.” I scooted in until her side was flush against my chest. “All I can think about is you.”
“That can’t be good for improving your grades.”
You fucking dork. I slowly grinned.
“Grades are the last thing on my mind.”
“That makes me the worst tutor on earth.”
“It also makes you the one thing, the one person, I dream about constantly.”
She watched me nervously. “You dream about me too?”
Oh, shit. You’re killing me. The idea that she could be dreaming about me was too much of a temptation.
“I’ve fucked my hand daily since you called my paper pathetic.”
She swallowed hard.
“I can’t stop thinking about slamming you against my door again and not stopping when I feel your sweet pussy dripping for me.”
Her teeth touched her lower lip again as she stubbornly stared me down.
“I can’t stop thinking about you crying out my name as I pound into your cunt and make those fucking tits bounce and jiggle.” I glanced down at them and exhaled a long, hard breath. She breathed deeply too, and I felt like a victorious warrior to have this impact on her. I was getting to her, too. There wasn’t a chance in hell that I was misreading her.
She wanted me too.
I knew that from when she kissed me back in my room.
I felt it when I slid my fingers under her shorts.
She was not frigid, not at all.
For me, she was aroused and dripping wet. Needy.
“Jason…” She shook her head slightly, her eyes open wide. She wasn’t shy. Her blush was faint, not red like I was embarrassing her. Maybe exciting her instead.
“Is that too lewd for you? Too graphic?” I grunted a laugh. “Too fucking bad. That’s how it is in my head. I can’t stop these feelings for you. Where I want to pummel your pussy until you can’t walk. Where I want to grab your hair and silence you with my dick down your throat as you take every inch I give you. Where I can’t stand the idea of anyone making you go numb and lock down like you did at that party, because I can’t help the feeling of needing to break you, Laura. Of making you fucking shatter in the best way possible, when you’re wrapped around my dick and begging me to let you come.”
I tortured myself while watching her. The play of desire in her eyes captivated me, and I waited for her to react.
To speak.
For a long moment, we stared each other down. So many things passed between us, unspoken promises and pleas.
“But like I said,” she replied at last, her voice shaky, “it’s not like that’s going to happen.”
I wanted to growl at how she could dismiss me, even now, after all I’d said.
“I want to make it happen.”
Telling her that felt like losing a boulder of stress off my shoulders. I’d put it out there.
“But I don’t know how to stop treating you like…”
“You don’t know how to stop bullying me,” she finished for me, her brows slanted as she got defensive.
“It’s fucked up. I agree that it’s twisted.”
She frowned, searching my face.
“But I am not lying when I tell you that I can’t get you out of my mind, Laura.” I dipped my head toward hers. “And I’m speaking the truth when I don’t think I want to.”
I brushed my lips against hers, a barely-there touch that tormented me.
“I want to bask in the idea of having you. Of keeping you and making you feel how much I fucking want you.”
I tilted my head to the side, angling my mouth over hers until I kissed her again, savoring how she didn’t resist at all.