Chapter 13 Dylan
Dylan
Her eyes are searching mine for approval. I can tell she’s had one too many, and I refuse to take advantage of a good friend.
“You want me to kiss you?” I ask, not sure if it’s a good idea.
“You don’t have to narrate,” she teases, leaning over the center console. “Kiss me, Dylan.”
She puckers her lips and closes her eyes. I can’t help but laugh. She giggles, her shoulders shaking. “Come on,” she mutters. “I’m waiting.”
“Open your eyes,” I say.
She listens.
I grab her cheek with one hand and pull her closer, searching her eyes for any hint of hesitation, but it seems as if she’s sure.
I lean in, glancing at her lips before I do. Then I kiss her. Eyes open, watching as I steal her breath away.
She tastes like candy, and then I taste the vodka and whiskey. Her lips are soft, thick, and full of no regrets.
I grab the back of her head, seeking permission with my tongue now. She allows me in, using her tongue to test how I feel. Then she moans into my mouth, and a new hunger begins.
My hand slips down to her neck so that I can rip her away from me. Otherwise, I’m going to get lost in the island of Cecily, and I can’t afford that.
She bites her lip once we disconnect, and then she grabs my wrist that’s still holding her throat.
“Do you always taste like candy?” I ask, gazing into her eyes.
She leans back and pulls out her lip gloss, applying another layer as I stare. “I don’t know. So how was the kiss?”
The question brings me back to reality, reminding me that this started as some experiment—a test to see if it would be weird between us.
I inhale, looking forward. It was oddly natural.
“Wanna meet me in the backseat?” she whispers into the sudden quiet of the truck.
I look over at her, and I can feel heat creeping up my neck. This is really happening. I open my door so fast I nearly fall out of the truck. By the time I make it to the back, she’s already climbed over the center console and is waiting for me with a smile that’s pure trouble.
“Cecily,” I say, slamming the door shut and immediately reaching for her face again. This face that I see almost every day, that I’ve never thought about kissing or holding or wondering what these lips would taste like.
She leans closer, resting her palm on my thigh, and laughs softly. “You’re a good kisser.”
“So are you.”
“Really?” She looks genuinely surprised. “I doubt it.”
I reach up and gently circle my fingers around her throat—not squeezing, just holding—and look into her eyes for permission. They soften, giving me the only answer I need.
I lean in this time, stronger. More urgent. I need to taste her again. I need to hear that gasp leave her chest. I start to suck on her lips. Her tongue. She returns the fight with her own force, sucking my lips and tongue.
My dick swells in my pants.
I’ve never wanted anyone this bad before, and now red flags are flying in my vision.
“Cecily,” I breathe.
She pecks my mouth, my cheek, and then her teeth are grazing my neck. “Yes?” Her hands explore my body, touching my abs, my chest, my arms. And then she travels south. “May I?”
I lean back, desperate for air that’s refusing to fill my lungs. “Ce,” I mutter as she stops on the button. “Are you sure?”
She bites her lips and nods.
She unbuttons my pants, and her hand slides in slowly. Her eyes watch mine as she pushes her palm against my raging boner.
“Oh my god,” she says, grabbing onto my dick.
I pant at the feel of her soft hands groping me.
“Holy shit, Dylan,” she gasps, sliding up and down my cock. “You’re so fucking big.”
I almost chuckle, but it feels way too good to fucking laugh right now.
“You’re so...” She tries to pull me free so she can see, and I have to lift my hips to help her push my jeans down. When I spring free, her eyes go wide. “Jesus.”
I watch her in amusement but also with deep pleasure. I look at her lips, wondering what she’s going to do next. If this is all we do, that’s fine by me.
She leans down and looks up at me through her lashes. “Can I use my mouth?”
I nod, probably too eagerly, and she smiles.
“Will you tell me if it feels good?”
I grab her hand and show her how to tighten her grip, guiding her movements. “That feels really fucking good. Just like that.”
She leans down and wraps her lips around the tip, and I’m pretty sure I see heaven. Then she slides down as far as she can go, and when I hit the back of her throat, I have to grip the seat to keep from embarrassing myself.
“How was that?” she asks when she pulls back.
I grab her and kiss her lips, tasting my favorite fucking thing ever to exist. Her turn. She keeps her hand working my dick as I lean over her and feel her body.
Her stomach is firm, her tits are angelic, and her ass is fucking perfect. I reach for her pants, and she does the honor of unbuttoning them for me. I push my hand down, slipping under her clothes, and I’m met with a recently shaved pussy. It’s soft to touch.
“Moo,” I say, and she laughs, throwing her head back.
“You’re sticking to that nickname?”
I smile against her mouth. “I am.”
“Then, yes?”
“Are you ready?”
I meet her eyes with mine. A completely different view from what I’m used to. She’s yearning, she’s desperate, and she’s horny as hell.
I slide one finger inside her slowly, and she’s so wet I nearly groan out loud. “Ce, this is so hot. Fuck, you’re tight,” I whisper, and she laughs breathlessly.
But the second I curl my finger like Rocky mentioned tonight, she’s not laughing anymore.
“Holy fuck,” she gasps, her grip on me loosening as I move my finger in that come-here motion. “Fuck, Dylan. Oh my god. Oh my god!”
“Do you like it?” I whisper in her ear.
She nods frantically. “It feels so good.”
“Ready for more?”
She looks at me with wide eyes. “There’s more?”
I nod with a smirk. “Yeah. Way more, but for now...” Instead of explaining, I add my middle finger and use my thumb to find her clit.
She completely releases me, bracing herself against the back door as her breathing becomes ragged.
“Dylan,” she pants. “Oh my fucking god.”
“Feel good?”
“So good,” she manages.
I keep working my fingers, watching as she dances on my fingers. Small moans leave her lips as I work faster. My fingers burn like a thousand suns, but I keep the pace because she’s clutching at anything in reach.
“Come for me, Ce,” I whisper, feeling my dick stretch.
That command seems to snap her out of whatever haze she was in. Her eyes widen, and she looks at my hand between her legs, at me still hard and wanting, at the steamed-up windows of my truck. It’s like she’s seeing this scene from outside her body.
“Everything okay?” I ask when she goes still.
She squeezes her thighs together, so I withdraw my hand.
“Ce?”
Her eyes meet mine, and there’s something different in them now. “Yeah… uh…” She straightens herself. “How do you know how to do that?”
“What do you mean?” I’m genuinely confused as I tuck myself back into my boxers and zip up my jeans. She watches me like she’s seeing me for the first time.
“I’ve never, and I mean never, felt anything like that before.”
I shrug, trying to remember where I learned all this. Honestly, Rocky and Scott get pretty graphic when they talk about their hookups in the locker room, so I’ve picked up some things along the way.
“So why do you want to stop? I can finish you,” I offer, because the idea of watching her come apart in my hands is suddenly the only thing I want.
“Actually, can you take me home?” she asks quietly.
I’m confused as hell, but I nod instead of pushing. “Okay.”
She practically bolts from the backseat, leaving me sitting here wondering what just happened. By the time I make it to the driver’s seat, she’s already buckled in and staring out the passenger window.
I start the truck and pull back onto the road. She digs through her purse and grabs my hand, pouring what feels like half a bottle of hand sanitizer on it. She rubs it in carefully, and I watch, half amused and half confused by the sudden return to practical Cecily.
Then she applies more lip gloss, and I know that smell is going to haunt me for the rest of my life.
“I think I can do this,” I say before I can stop myself. I don’t like this distance between us, this awkwardness that feels foreign after days of easy friendship. “I can be your puck buddy.”
She smiles, and some of the tension leaves my shoulders. “Puck buddy?” she mocks.
I shrug, returning her smile. “Hockey terms keep it friendly.”
“That is so not friendly, Dylan, but whatever floats your boat.”
“Are you still interested?” I ask because I need to know where we stand.
“I told you that’s what I wanted. I just thought you weren’t into it.”
“Ce, did you miss the part where I was hard as a rock? Of course, I’m into it.”
“Yeah, but a boner doesn’t necessarily mean anything. Guys get hard if anyone touches them.”
I shake my head. “That’s not how it works. What happened in my backseat was...” I pause, trying to find the right words. “It was hot as hell. I’m getting hard again just thinking about it.”
“You don’t want a girlfriend, right?” she asks, and there’s something vulnerable in her voice.
“No. I can’t handle a relationship right now with hockey and school. You?”
She looks straight ahead. “Can’t afford to have a boyfriend interfere with my goals. So we’re on the same page?”
I nod. “Seems like we are.”
Her voice gets softer. “Okay, so we’re just friends who sleep together?”
I grin at her, feeling lighter than I have all night. “Puck buddies. Come on, Moo.”