Chapter Fifteen
Kennedy
Before I step to the side, letting Will inside my apartment, I glance around, making sure no one we know sees him coming to my apartment like this, as if we have signs over our heads that read we’re about to bang.
Part of me knows that’s a ridiculous thought, but I can’t help the fact that my brain starts producing insane scenarios where everyone we know suddenly pops out behind the bushes.
He closes the door behind him and sets his keys on the table near the door. His hair is just the slightest bit damp, he wears a Bramwood U hockey hoodie and black joggers. He looks around my apartment like this is his first time here, not his hundredth. Will toes off his shoes by the front door.
I watch him, nerves and anticipation course through my body, tingling over my skin. I catch myself nervously picking at the cuticle on my thumb while I wait for Will to say anything.
He looks at me with a tiny grin that makes me blush. He steps into my space, fingertips grazing my waist for a second before he decides to fully rest both palms over the curve of my hips. He smells good, like he’s just showered with some masculine soap called Arctic Snow or Winter Mountain.
“What?” he says, ducking down slightly, a smile curving up the side of his lips.
His honey brown eyes are darting between mine and his throat bobs with a swallow, clearly nervous. “Nothing,” I say, feeling shy, like a girlish giggle might slip out at any moment. “I was just wondering what the scent of soap you use is called.”
It must have caught him off guard because his lips curl. “Northern woods.”
“I knew it would be something like that!” I exclaim, tapping his chest. “I was thinking Winter Mountain. Smells good.” I press my forehead to his chest, suppressing a wild laugh that’s threatening to break free, and also because I feel really nervous.
Will’s chest is rising and falling with heavy breaths as he slips one arm further around my waist and the other up my spine, twining his fingers into the back of my hair.
“You smell good too.” I tilt my head up, making eye contact with him for a beat before his eyes drop down to my lips. His tongue darts out and wets his bottom lip before he looks into my eyes again.
“Can I kiss you?” he whispers.
I nod my head yes and slide my eyes closed, tilting my chin up a fraction more. He leans down and presses his lips to mine. He’s gentle at first. Tentative. Just like last time.
I press up on my tiptoes, wanting to get closer to him, wrapping my arms around his neck. He lets out a throaty moan, a sound that sends heat straight to my core. His tongue swipes out, tangling with mine.
Will loosens his hold on the back of my hair, sliding both hands to my hips.
I gasp as he plants a few kisses along the side of my jaw and down my neck, then back up to my mouth.
Without breaking the kiss, he gently guides us backward, the maybe 15 feet, until the backs of my thighs hit the edge of my bed.
I climb backwards on the bed until my head hits the pillows.
Will follows, climbing over me and caging my body in with arms planted on either side of my head.
“You control everything about this,” he says, face hovering over mine.
I nod, parting my legs to make room for him, and he settles his hips there.
Even through the multiple layers of fabric I can feel his hard length pressing into me.
He drops down onto his forearms, settling more of his weight on top of me, while taking my lips again. “You are so fucking beautiful,” he says nearly panting, kissing his way down my neck.
“I should warn you I have my nipples pierced,” I say, sounding out of breath as he sucks along my neck, one hand trailing up my torso toward my breast. He cups my breast over my tanktop, kneading and tugging on the balled ends of my nipple piercing.
He chuckles against my neck. “I can feel that.”
I don’t tell him I got them done after millions of people saw my naked body and I needed to feel like there were parts of me no one else had seen before. I also don’t tell him he’ll be the first man to ever see them.
He nibbles on the spot below my ear and I let out a whine, arching my back, pushing my breasts harder into his hand.
“You have no idea how hard I am right now,” he says, grinding his hard length over me until we’re both rocking against each other, hard and desperate.
He pulls back only to reach behind his neck and shuck off his hoodie and his shirt at once, tossing them somewhere on the floor, revealing his wide muscular chest to me.
I run my hands over him, reveling in how muscular he feels before I slide my hands over his shoulder, pulling him down toward me so I can press my lips against his again. He’s a really good kisser: it's like he knows exactly what turns me on and then does it.
He sucks my bottom lip between his teeth, then moves to my jaw where he places sloppy opened mouthed kisses down my throat.
I turn my face to the side, giving him a better angle of my neck, desperate for him to keep sucking and nibbling there when I see the shiny black mirror face of his smart watch on the wrist next to my head.
A wave of cold fear moves through me, like someone hit the power button on my arousal, sending anxiety and dread through my body.
Will keeps kissing down my neck, making his way toward my breasts, unaware of the fact I can’t stop thinking about his fucking watch.
I loosen my grip along the back of his shoulders and drop my hands limply to my sides.
Breathing in through my nose, I try focusing on the sensations, on how much I was enjoying this not even ten seconds ago, but his weight on top of me is starting to feel suffocating, his hand rubbing over my nipple feeling unwelcome instead of thrilling.
“Will,” I say.
“Mmm?” he says into the side of my neck, tongue flicking over my skin there.
“Will,” I say with a little more force. His head snaps up, eyes locking with mine, cheeks pink as he looks at me, concerned.
I look to the side, breaking eye contact with him and he immediately scoots back on his haunches, cutting off all physical contact with me. I feel so stupid but I also know that I can’t keep going like this. “I’m sorry, but can you please take your watch off?”
“Um, yeah, okay. No problem,” he shrugs. He undoes the watch band and slips it off his wrist, tossing it on the pillow next to my head.
“Better?” he says with a smile so gentle I want to grab the pillow from under my head and cover my face from him. I nod my head yes, wanting to feel better. “Do you want–Can I,” he swallows.
“You can keep going.” I’m hoping that if I just allow myself to breathe through the panic, then I’ll eventually enjoy it.
Will places himself in the cradle of my thighs again, leaning forward to kiss me more.
He sucks my bottom lip between his teeth but instead of those tingles and the heat from before, all I feel is anxiety.
I close my eyes, wrap my arms around him, trying to focus on anything other than the watch on the pillow next to me.
His hand slips under my shirt, the pads of his calloused hand settling over the swell of my breast, finger and thumb tweaking my nipple barbell.
I let out a moan, trying to convince myself that I am enjoying this moment.
Will rocks into me, moving himself over the fabric of my sleep shorts.
I open my eyes to look at his face, hoping that’ll help me get back into the moment, but all I see is the shiny black mirror of his smartwatch face out of the corner of my eye.
Taunting me. It’s too close to me. Too integrated with his phone.
There are too many capabilities of this watch and ways that he could record me with it.
My skin feels tight and Will’s body weight is trapping me, I’m starting to feel like I can’t breathe. I can’t do this.
“Stop,” I say, pushing at his shoulders, “Will, I’m sorry. Please stop. Get off me.”
He jumps back like he touched a hot stove and I try not to let it feel like rejection. A hot sting of tears threatens to spill over that I’m trying to blink back.
I cover my face with both hands and take a few deep breaths, trying to keep it together, very conscious of Will next to me on the bed, watching me, waiting.
He pushes back some hair from my face, making me feel weird and better but also worse.
“Are you worried about Miranda?” he says, again too gentle and understanding.
This would be so much easier if he were a dick.
I shake my head no. “No, yes, a little bit, but not really.” I drop my hands and turn my face toward him, “It’s stupid.”
“What is it?”
I close my eyes again before answering. He’s looking at me in a way that feels way too much, too vulnerable. “Yourwatchwasmakingmeworriedaboutbeingrecorded,” I whisper into the air. I can’t look at him, I don’t want to see his face.
“Okay, easy fix. What else?”
He grabs his watch off the pillow next to me and walks to my bathroom.
He makes a big, but welcome, show of pulling his phone out of his pocket and placing it next to the watch before closing the bathroom door.
I sit up fully and take him in. His hair is disheveled and his lips are wet from kissing me.
There’s still a pretty significant bulge happening in the front of his pants, and I expect irritation on his face, but instead of being annoyed, or even the slightest bit miffed, he looks worried.
He sits on the edge of the bed. “What else?”