21. Laura
21
LAURA
I couldn’t trust Jason’s intentions.
Even though the hard press of his mouth over mine turned me on and I reveled in the addictive heat of his taste, I couldn’t let myself be duped. It wasn’t possible to lower my guard that much.
I was horny. Needy.
But I wasn’t stupid.
He admitted to wanting me, almost pissed about it. Then in the same breath, he confessed that he didn’t know how to stop bullying me.
It didn’t make sense.
I knew he wanted me. Since that hot moment of making out with him in his room, I was aware of that fact. Now, it seemed he was stubborn to see it through despite his issues with me.
He wanted to make this happen.
With his lips sealed to mine and his tongue swiping along mine, I sighed against him and realized he wanted something more to happen between us now.
I didn’t care that he was calling me a liar. He could prove me wrong about how I claimed that nothing would happen between us again.
It turned out that I assumed incorrectly. He hadn’t blown me off because he thought I was a bad kisser.
He growled into my mouth in a demand for me to kiss him back harder. His fingers slid into my hair as he cupped my head, all in an order to open up so he could plunder my mouth.
So with this kiss, he could try to own me.
That was what it felt like, a total conquest. And I was willing to surrender so long as he kept making me feel so hot and wanted, so overcome by this power that I could make him this hungry.
In this quiet corner in the back of the diner, with oldies playing on the speakers overhead, he forced me to heed him and let him kiss me like air could no longer be important.
He wanted to have me—all of me.
He claimed he wanted to keep me.
Yet, he wouldn’t admit to giving up this need to bully me.
“Do you feel it?” he asked, growling with his mouth an inch from mine as we both sucked in ragged breaths.
I stared at him, too timid to answer him.
I didn’t know what I felt. I couldn’t label it. How could I? What kind of self-respect could I have if I would admit I wanted him but didn’t want him to bully me? How did it have to be an all-or-nothing scenario, that I had to take what he offered, both good and bad?
I pulled him down to kiss me again. It was payback for how he’d silenced me, and I’d be damned if I had to answer him with words. Kissing him and moaning into the addictive heat of his mouth was much better.
Over and over, he seared me with his kisses. Without a break, he showed me with purpose how silly I’d been to predict this would never happen between us again.
It was wrong, all wrong.
Yet, I was too weak to think of stopping.
I was too desperate to feel this wicked heat and thrill with him to tell him no.
He put his hand on my thigh, tugging my leg toward him so I would face him more. Tucked against him, with his arm around my back, I was hugged close and snug. But still, it felt like he was too far away, too distant and out of reach.
Clinging to him, I wrapped my arms around his neck and hung on to this daring risk to let him have me—even like this.
He slanted over me, predatory but also securely, as if he wanted to trap me with him and never let go. When he lifted up to catch his breath, staring at me with that smoldering heat, I frowned and worried he’d expect me to admit something more than I was ready to.
“I can’t trust you.”
I blurted it out and winced.
“You shouldn’t.”
That was oddly refreshening. He was being honest.
“You say you have feelings for me, but you can’t. Not if you still plan to bully me.”
He kissed me slowly, tugging on my lower lip.
“And this… this isn’t a feeling. It’s just lust.”
Again, he drugged me with a hard kiss.
“Just physical desire,” I reasoned.
He chuckled that dark and gritty sound. “Call it whatever you want.”
As he urged me closer, I lowered one hand to balance myself. I didn’t mean to touch his dick, but that was where my fingers landed.
“Oh, my… fuck.” I didn’t move my hand away, too mesmerized by the hard bulge under his shorts. I wasn’t a prude, but I wasn’t promiscuous either. I wasn’t a virgin, but I wasn’t that experienced either.
The size of Jason’s erection shocked me. But the way his lids drifted down as he watched me with a hooded gaze was all I could anchor myself on. I curved my fingers, stroking once, twice.
“Fuck, Laura. Fucking…” He dragged in a deep breath. “Do you get it now?”
I moved my hand away, almost horrified that I’d almost continued touching him like this.
Not too many people were here. Customers gathered at the front, not back here in the diner. But this was too public. And Jason Reeves wasn’t the kind of guy I was supposed to be with. He wasn’t the sort of man my family would want to see me with.
“I…” I closed my eyes under his slow, naughty kiss, full of tongue and moaning.
“Don’t deny it,” he taunted.
I couldn’t. It was impossible to deny that I wanted him. That he lusted for me. That somehow, we’d weirdly gotten closer to find this middle ground of stubborn attraction.
“You wanna stop?” he teased as he lowered one hand to my thigh again. Kissing and caressing my bare skin, he tempted me to tell him that I would hate him if he thought about stopping.
“Or do you want to let me show you?”
I gasped under his mouth as he pushed his hand higher.
Under my skirt.
His fingertips grazed along my slit, and I held my breath.
He can’t be serious.
Here?
“Let me show you how badly you’re messing with me,” he growled.
I tensed, excited with how naughty this was as he slipped his fingers under the edge of my panties.
“Let me show you how obsessed I am with being the one to make you dripping wet like this.”
I stared at him as he lowered his mouth toward mine again. Watching him press his lips over mine, I realized that he wanted to muffle my squeak of surprise.
Pushing my panties further over, he forced his hand closer. With each pass of his fingers along my slick folds, he kissed me harder and deeper.
Oh, fuck.
Oh, my God.
Oh, my fuck.
Thoughts ceased to matter. All I could do was hold on to him and kiss him back.
This was really happening. Jason Reeves had his hand under my skirt. He was fingering me, dragging his rough fingertips up and down my sensitive flesh and smearing my juices over my skin.
It wasn’t just happening. I was welcoming him to play with me—in public.
I doubted anyone could see. I hoped not. A lifetime of being expected to hold myself to a degree of propriety and decorum should’ve prevented me from wanting this at all, especially from someone like him, my bully I had to tutor.
He blocked me in the booth, and he made sure to keep his hand under the table.
Yet, as I spread my legs apart to give him more access, I felt like the sluttiest, naughtiest bad girl ever.
I loved it.
I relished the recklessness of wanting him like this, feeling so alive and bold to go for what I wanted.
Right now, I wanted this .
I wanted him .
Even in this booth where others could walk by.
Tossing all caution to the wind, I arched back and willed him to touch me.
To finger fuck me.
He’d asked me if a man had ever pleasured me. Now he had his answer. He was.
“Just like that,” he urged in a dirty whisper, kissing along my face until he sucked on the sensitive flesh under my ear.
“Spread your legs for me,” he whispered.
I breathed so fast that I feared someone would see me. Tucking my face against him, I clutched at the front of his shirt.
“Suck my finger,” he said as he pushed the tip in. “I want to feel this sweet little cunt.”
Oh, fuck.
His filthy talk turned me on faster.
I gasped, and he tipped his face against mine to prompt me to meet his lips.
As he pistoned his finger in and out of my body, he smeared more of my arousal, making a mess out of me.
“I asked you if anyone’s ever touched you here,” he growled, moving his thumb to my clit and rubbing circles around it.
I jerked at his touch, so close to coming already. If he hadn’t kissed me then, I would’ve alerted what he was doing to the whole diner.
“Keep those thighs spread,” he warned. Between his two fingers in and out of my pussy and his thumb around my bud of so many nerve endings, he tormented me.
“Now I know,” he said, victorious as he stared down at me. “Now I know.”
He kissed me, stunning me between the dual sensations down there under the table. Humping up against his hand, I willed him to make me come.
“Now I know.” He smiled against my lips. “It’s me. I’m the one to touch you like this.”
I moaned, so close to bursting as he kissed me again.
“And I’m going to be the one to make you come, Laura. You like being a good girl, don’t you?”
I whined at how close I was. Tension built and scaled higher. His fingers and thumb rocked me near that sweet release no man had ever given me before. Only toys and my hand could satisfy me.
Until Jason.
“Be a bad girl for me,” he taunted. “Be bad for once and come on my hand.”
I cried out, silenced by his hard kiss as I did so. I came, shocked by the utter bliss of his fingers playing with me, his mouth commanding me.
As I rocked and quivered against him, he kept up a slower rhythm of rubbing me, caressing me.
Then at last, when he reared back to watch me blink and catch my breath, I couldn’t help but wince.
He didn’t speak, just staring at me with that ravenous look in his eyes.
And under the greedy attention he put on me, I was suddenly afraid.
“I…”
He frowned, studying me as nervousness took over me. From the high of coming, I was thrust to the instant low of being intimidated.
“Is this a trick?” I stammered.
He pulled his hand away, scowling at me. “A trick?”
Oh, God. I’d hate myself if it were. “A trick. A prank.”
He shook his head. “No.”
I scooted back. “Are you recording this? To use it against me and bully me and?—”
“Fuck. I’m not. Look. I’m not recording anything.” He pointed at his phone on the table, face down. “It’s just you and me.”
I didn’t trust that. The only way we’d existed was with him bullying me and teasing me.
“I hate the idea of anyone seeing you like this.”
Ignoring his angry words, I pushed at the table until I could slip out past him, over his lap.
He didn’t reach out to stop me, stunned as he stared at me so mad like this. “I don’t like the idea of anyone being able to see you come like that.”
My cheeks burned as I escaped. The touch of air on my damp panties shocked me.
As I stood, he grabbed my hand and stopped me, forcing me to look down at him.
“You’re mine, Laura.”
Oh, fuck.
I didn’t know where he got off thinking he had a right to say that, but I knew that he believed it. Jason was the sort of spoiled jerk to always get what he wanted.
“I need to go.” Hugging my books to my chest, like a shield after letting him see me so vulnerable, I pulled out of his grip.
“Mine, Laura.”
I left in a hurry, in disbelief that I’d done that with him.
He wanted me to be his. His to play with. His to bully.
And I cringed as I lied to myself that I wanted nothing to do with him at all.