Chapter 9
Change My World
Luke gives me a ride home, as promised. He’s good at that: following through on his word. There’s no last-minute flaking or excuses or broken promises.
He says he’s going to do something, and he does it.
What a revolutionary concept.
As he pulls up in front of my house, I turn to him. “Thanks for the ride. And getting supplies at the hardware store. Jeez, I feel like it was a million years ago after the night we had.”
“No kidding.” His fingers tighten on the steering wheel.
He’s strangely tense now, and it’s got me on alert too.
“What’s up?” I prompt. “What’s wrong?”
There’s a long silence.
And then he says, “I hate it.”
More alarms blare inside me. “Hate what?”
“Hate that these guys think they have any right to touch you. That they lay a finger on you.” His eyes, dark and intent in the low light, meet mine. “I wanted to cut off his hand for touching you like that.”
I’m strangely thrilled by his words. By the fierce, possessive look on his face.
It feels like there’s electricity racing inside my veins, and I have no safe place to let it go. So I try to diffuse the energy with a joke.
“That’d be a real mess for me to clean up. So thank you for restraining yourself.”
“I know you can handle yourself,” he says, still dead-serious, not letting me off the hook with my dumb joke. “But I hate that you have to. I wish I could protect you from that.”
Something inside my chest squeezes. “You did, Luke. You kicked his ass.”
“Only after the fact. I want to make it so you don’t have to deal with any of that, ever.”
I’m so touched I don’t even know what to say.
Eventually, I manage, “You can’t. If they do it under my dad’s nose, they’re always gonna do it. Nothing’s gonna change my world.”
He puts his hand over mine. “I don’t believe that. And when you start believing you can change your world, you will.”
With words failing me, I figure a hug will do.
I unbuckle my seatbelt and scoot next to him. All the way next to him, my side pressed against his. As I rest my head on his shoulder, he adjusts his posture to make it even more comfortable for me, draping an arm around me.
It’s like he always knows what I need, even before I do.
“You’re so annoying,” I joke with a sigh. “What self-help book did you get that gem from?”
“Just another thing I figured out for myself along the way.” His thumb rubs gently up and down my shoulder, each stroke sending heat through the thin fabric of my shirt.
I exhale, trying to keep my voice steady. “You’ve got everything figured out, don’t you?”
There’s a pause.
“I wouldn’t say that.”
“No? What’s got you stumped?”
His hand goes still against my shoulder. “You.”
I look up at him in surprise, and the breath leaves my lungs entirely. Our faces are very close now. So close I can see the lighter green flecks in his eyes, the way his pupils have dilated. Close enough to feel the warmth radiating from his skin. To catch the sandalwood scent of him.
“What haven’t you figured out about me?” The question comes out barely above a whisper.
His gaze drops to my mouth and stays there, lingering like a touch. When his eyes meet mine again, something in them has shifted, something darker, hungrier. Almost desperate.
His hand slides from my shoulder to cup my jaw, thumb brushing across my cheekbone with devastating gentleness. My skin burns where he touches me.
His mouth is so close now that I can feel the words against my lips when he speaks. “How to make you mine.”
He closes the distance between us and kisses me.
His lips are warm and soft, just like I knew they would be. But there’s an intensity beneath the gentleness that takes me by surprise, an intensity that makes my heart feel like it’s galloping inside my chest.
I’m too shocked to even kiss him back. I feel stunned and breathless, lips tingling, body buzzing with electricity.
When he finally pulls back from me, it’s slow. Reluctant. Like he’s fighting every instinct he has not to stay locked to me.
But now he’s searching my expression, like he’s terrified he’s read this all wrong.
I don’t give him a chance to do more than that one look. Because in the next instant, I’m pulling his face back down towards me and kissing him back.
This time, the kiss goes from zero to a hundred fast. His tongue slides against mine, carefully at first, then hungrier. His lips are warm, demanding, coaxing mine open wider. I melt into it, into him, tasting the heat and the tension that’s been simmering between us for so long.
His hand tangles in my hair, tugging gently. The other is still holding mine, our fingers laced tight like he doesn’t want to let go.
I swing my leg over his lap, straddling him.
There’s a sharp catch of his breath as our bodies align.
“Madison,” he says.
I love my name in his voice. It’s special. No one else says it like that. No one else looks at me the way he does. Like I’m special.
My thighs tighten around his hips as I settle on top of him. His hands slide down my sides, thumbs brushing the underside of my breasts, dragging along the sensitive edge of my ribs before settling at my waist.
As we kiss, I rock my hips forward. The bulge of his cock is hard and hot through his jeans, pressed right against where I need him most.
My fingers fumble with the button of his jeans, urgency rising. I get it undone, then slide the zipper down. He inhales sharply as I slip my hand into his boxer-briefs and wrap my fingers around his cock.
When I stroke him, he jerks, hips bucking slightly into my palm. The sheer heat of him startles me. He’s already so hard.
“Figures you’d be packing serious heat,” I whisper in his ear, tightening my grip. “You do have that unbothered, big dick energy.”
A ragged laugh huffs against my skin. “I’ll take your word for it.”
Then his mouth crashes into mine. His hands are everywhere now, sweeping up my sides, cupping my breasts, thumbs circling and pressing into my nipples through the thin fabric until I’m arching into him helplessly.
One hand drags down my body, inside my jeans. Inside my panties. When his fingers glide across my clit, I gasp into his mouth.
“Baby,” he murmurs. “You’re so wet.”
And he’s right. I am. Wet and aching and needy. Just from his kiss, just from his hands.
And I still want more.
I reach for my purse and frantically push aside the makeup bag, the gum, and the colored pens rattling around inside.
I have to have a condom somewhere in here. It’s been a long time since I’ve needed one, but surely past Maddie wouldn’t let future Maddie down like this.
My fingers find the little foil wrapped packet. It’s crumpled and old and a little worse for wear, but it’s sealed and it’ll do.
He plucks it from my fingers. Looks at me with that deep, serious expression of his. “Are you sure?”
I kiss him softly. “I want you,” I tell him. “All of you.”
His eyes flare at that. He pulls me to him for another kiss, hard and deep. His hand cups the back of my head, the other braced at my spine, holding me to him like he can’t bear to let me go. When he finally pulls back, we’re both breathless.
He tears the packet open with his teeth, eyes locked on me as he does it.
Fuck, that’s so hot.
He rolls the condom on. His cock is thick and perfect, flushed deep and already glistening with precum.
I bite my lip as I watch, a fresh rush of heat flooding between my legs.
Once the condom’s on, he grips my hips again and guides me up over him. His thumbs press into the curves of my waist as I hover.
The head of his cock nudges against my entrance, teasing, and I let out a shaky breath as I start to lower.
I sink down inch by inch, every part of me pulling tight around him, adjusting, yielding.
He’s big. It’s a stretch to take him. But it’s a good stretch, a full-body bloom of sensation that starts deep and radiates outward.
When I look at him, he’s got his eyes riveted to where his cock is sliding into my pussy.
“Fuck,” he breathes. “Fuck, you feel so good. ”
It’s the first time I’ve ever heard him swear.
The word sounds so sexy in his voice. Even more so because he never uses it. Not until now.
As I go all the way down, there’s an incredible sensation of being filled up. That deep, aching emptiness replaced by the pressure and heat of his cock inside me.
It makes me feel… complete.
Our eyes meet.
And then he’s kissing me again, hot and bruising and deep. We kiss passionately while we fuck, and it feels intimate and raw in a way it never has for me before.
At first, he lets me set the pace. I’m taking it slow, savoring the feel of him inside me. Getting used to the girth of him. The way he fills me completely. My thighs shake from the effort to go slow, from the intensity of the sensations. From how good he feels inside me.
His body is unbelievably hard and strong. The ridged muscles of his abs shift under my palms as I run my hands down his chest, his torso flexing with each breath. I drag my nails lightly over the sculpted lines of his stomach and feel the muscles jump in response.
He tugs down my tank top and bra in one smooth movement.
Despite the heated air of the truck, even hotter with our body heat now, my nipples are already hard.
He palms them before taking one of my nipples into his mouth and sucking hard.
His tongue flicks over the sensitive peak, teeth grazing just enough to make me gasp and arch into him as we fuck.
My rhythm slips as pleasure starts to take over.
That’s when he takes control.
He turns me over so I’m on my knees on the bench seat.
“Hands right here,” he tells me, guiding my palms to grip the seatback. He fits his body behind mine, pressing a kiss to my neck.
And then he plunges into me again, all the way to the hilt.
His grip tightens on my hips as he fucks me. His fingers dig into my ass, pulling me down onto him harder as he starts thrusting up into me, hard and deep, each snap of his hips driving me closer to the edge. The friction is relentless, delicious.
There’s a pressure in my spine and it’s building fast. The windows of the truck are all fogged up, and the sounds we’re making are obscene.
“Luke,” I pant, breathless.
He bends his head to murmur in my ear again. “Say my name again.” It’s almost a growl.
Head thrown back, my body rolling against his as he drives into me, I obey. “Luke.”
This time, he actually does growl with satisfaction. Then he captures my mouth in a kiss, hard and messy. Both of us are wild with it now. Desperate.
That’s when the orgasm slams into me.
My pussy clenches around him, pulsing as I lose all rhythm, pleasure tearing through me like a wave.
Luke is only seconds behind me. He groans into my hair, his hands gripping my ass as he spills inside the condom. His thrusts slow, then stop, as we both collapse against each other.
For a moment, we just cling to each other, sweaty and breathing hard.
Holy shit.
That was the hottest sex I’ve ever had.
But soon, as the haze of the orgasm dissipates, in its place comes a terrifying clarity.
Luke and I just had sex.
He’s my friend.
The one guy in my life who seemed to believe I have something more to offer the world than a quick fuck.
And that’s what I just gave him anyway.
What have I done?
Shit, I know exactly what I’ve done. I’ve just ruined our friendship.
As I ease myself off his cock, I can’t meet his eyes. I scramble to put my clothes back to rights and smooth my hair down.
“Um, so. I have the day off tomorrow,” I say, zipping up my jeans. “See you Thursday, then.”
When I go to open the passenger door, his hand closes around my wrist.
“Wait up,” he says. “I’ll walk you to your front door.”
“Not necessary!” I chirp, overly-cheerful. “Just stay there. And keep an eye on that cut. See ya.”
I all but run to my front door. I fumble with my keys but eventually unlock the door without giving into the temptation to look back at his truck, still idling right in front of my house.
I push open the front door and close it quickly behind me.
Inside, nothing is different. Buster comes for his sweet doggy greeting. Dad is snoring in his recliner. The TV is playing an infomercial for a set of steak knives.
Nothing in my life has changed.
So why does it feel like everything has?