Chapter 40 – Josie
chapter
forty
Josie
As it turned out, we were good at keeping secrets.
Even in class, we didn’t sit together.
Didn’t stop us from texting, though.
I was snuggled deep into his hoodie when my phone buzzed against my thigh.
Waylon: You look good wearing that.
Me: Wearing what? My hoodie?
Waylon: Woman, that’s the third hoodie of mine you’ve stolen.
Me: I have no idea what you’re talking about, and it’s also cold in here. My hoodie is just so soft.
His shoulders shook as he laughed.
Waylon: It’s 71 degrees in this building, Josie.
Me: I run cold. Especially when you can’t sit next to me and warm me up.
Aldridge was saying something about integrated brand strategy, and I was writing it down on autopilot, hand moving while my eyes stayed on the back of Waylon’s neck, on the short-clipped russet hair there.
I had a whole catalog of him by now, the neck, the hands, the jaw.
I kept telling myself I wasn’t collecting, and I kept adding to it anyway.
An hour later, we settled at our corner table on the third floor. Waylon plugged his laptop into the outlet—the only one on the east wall—and clicked on the small lamp he’d brought from his cottage to fight the bad overhead light. It cast a warm glow on the scarred wood. He’d made this place ours.
His foot was against mine under the table. And his hand settled on my thigh.
“You should focus on your work,” he said.
“I would if you weren’t playing footsie with me.”
“Who, me?” he asked.
“You need to focus, Waylon.”
He nuzzled my neck. “You’re distracting me.”
We separated. My foot pulled back. Waylon’s hand lifted. I turned a page I hadn’t finished reading and Waylon became very interested in his laptop screen. Jimmy Walton from my ethics class walked past without looking up. The whole thing took maybe four seconds.
After he was gone, I looked at my hands on the table. They were steady.
“That was close,” I said.
Waylon said nothing. But his foot found mine again under the table, and I could breathe again.
How long could we keep the secret?
“Waylon.”
“Josie.”
“Study.”
“I’m studying.” He turned a page I was sure he hadn’t read. I went back to my laptop, but my knee was still touching his under the table.
Three minutes passed. His knee pressed harder against mine.
“That’s not studying,” I said.
He grinned. “My knee slipped.”
“Your knee slipped toward me?”
“It’s a small table.”
I leaned back in my chair and watched him pretend to read.
“We should go,” he said.
“We just got here, Waylon.”
“We should go before I do something stupid in a library.”
“What kind of stupid?” I asked in a whisper. I closed my laptop and glanced at him over the top of my glasses, and he was done.
“Let’s go,” he said. “Your car.”
“We’ll be good,” I said, shoving my textbook into my bag. “We’ll go back to my place and actually work.”
“Absolutely.”
“After,” I said, and let that sit there.
“After what, baby?”
“After you make me come at least once.”
Waylon
Her apartment was dark when we got there. She’d driven. I’d kept my hand on her thigh the whole way, and she’d kept slapping it higher every time I moved it to a respectable position, which made the gearshift interesting.
We didn’t make it to the bedroom.
The door had barely clicked shut before she was against me, her mouth finding mine in the dark. It was all coats and elbows and want until we stumbled against the couch.
Her bag hit the floor. My jacket followed. She was working at my belt with hands that weren’t quite steady, and I caught her wrists.
“Slow down, baby.”
“No.”
I laughed against her mouth. “No?”
“You said you’d make me come.”
“And I will.” I walked her backward until the back of her knees hit the couch. “Turn around.”
She blinked up at me, lips swollen, glasses crooked. “Turn around?”
“Yeah.” I reached up to slide the glasses off her face and set them on the side table. “Hands on the arm of the couch.”
She turned slow, watching me over her shoulder the whole time, and that look, half a smirk, half a dare, made my stomach clench. She bent forward, palms flat against the cushions. My hoodie rode up the curve of her ass.
I had her on the cushions, face buried between her thighs, hands gripping her hips as she braced herself on the couch back, already making small, wrecked sounds I was keeping count of.
“Waylon, oh my God —”
I hummed against her and felt her whole body jolt. I pulled back just enough to breathe. “You said at least once.”
She giggled, actually giggled, with my face between her legs, and the sound went straight to my dick.
“Don’t laugh,” I said. “I’m working here.”
She laughed harder, her whole body shaking with it.
I dragged my tongue flat against her, and the laugh turned into a gasp so hard she choked on it.
Her hips pushed back against my face, and I let her, my hands holding her steady, keeping her where I wanted her while I worked her with my mouth.
Slow circles with my tongue, then fast, then slow again, reading her the way I read a breakout, by feel, by the way her thighs shook when I found the right angle.
Then someone knocked on the door.
Josie froze. I licked her clit.
“Waylon,” she hissed.
“Mmm?”
“Someone’s at the door.”
“Mm-hmm.”
I dragged my tongue up through her, slow, and she fisted the cushions. Whoever it was could wait or leave. Either worked for me.
The knock came again, sharper this time, then three more, harder.
“Josie.” Marcus’s voice, muffled through the door. “Open up.”
I felt every muscle in her body lock at once. Her hand flew back and grabbed my hair, not to pull me closer but to hold me still while she figured out what to do.
My mouth was still pressed against her slick pussy, and I could feel her pulse flutter, fast and uneven, the same rhythm as her breath.
“Josie, c’mon. I saw the light.”
I called bullshit. He hadn’t seen the light. There wasn’t one on. He was guessing.
I pulled back just enough to speak against her thigh. “Stay quiet.”
“Waylon —”
“He’s fishing. He doesn’t know you’re here.”
Her grip in my hair tightened. I could feel her trying to think, trying to do the math on how loud her car had been pulling in, on whether she’d locked the deadbolt, on whether the floor had creaked when we’d stumbled in.
I didn’t give her the chance to spiral.
I licked her again, slowly, deliberately, and her knees nearly buckled. Her free hand slapped down onto the couch back to keep herself upright.
“Waylon,” she breathed, so quietly it was barely a sound. “He’s right there.”
“Mm-hmm.”
“You’re insane.”
“Mm-hmm.”
I worked my tongue against her, then turned my head just enough to mouth against the inside of her thigh. “Don’t answer.”
“He’s not going to leave,” she whispered. Her voice had gone thin.
“He will.”
“Waylon.”
“Trust me.”
I didn’t give her time to argue. I slid my tongue inside her, slow and deep, and felt her stomach hollow out against my forearm. Her thighs tried to clamp shut around my head, and I held them open with my hands, fingers digging into the soft skin, leaving marks I’d kiss later.
The knock came again. Marcus’s voice, irritated now. “Josie. I just want to talk.”
I felt her shake her head above me — not at him, at me, at the impossible situation she was in with her ex on the other side of a door and my mouth on her pussy. Her hand was still in my hair. She hadn’t pulled me off, and that told me everything.
I licked into her again, and curled my tongue, and this time, she made a sound, small and broken, like she was trying to trap it behind her hand.
The deadbolt was locked. She’d started throwing it after the night Marcus picked the lock and let himself in. He couldn’t get in.
I didn’t move. I didn’t lift my head. I looked up at her from where I was and watched her face in the dim light from the moon — jaw tight, eyes wide, calculating.
He knocked again. “Josie, I know you’re home. Your car’s out front.”
I tongue fucked her pussy even harder, smiling against her slick folds as she whimpered.
Kane finally got the hint and left.
I didn’t slow down until we heard the front door to the building close. That was when I slipped two fingers inside.
Josie moaned low and guttural. “Fuuuck. Oh my god.”
Just how I liked her, nice and loud. I didn’t know her window was open, though.
“Josie?” Marcus called up from the sidewalk.
Sounded like the fucker was right outside her window.
Josie’s whole body went rigid against my mouth.
I didn’t stop. Let him hear her come on my tongue.
I curled my fingers inside her and found that spot that made her see God. I worked it slow while my tongue went to town on her clit. She tried to bite back the sound and failed. A whimper broke out of her, high and shaky, and her hips ground down against my face like she couldn’t help herself.
“Josie.” Marcus’s voice again, closer now. Right under the window. “I can hear you up there.”
He couldn’t, not yet. But he would.
I sucked her clit between my lips, and she groaned low. Her knees gave out. I kept her open to me, my mouth sucking her deep, my fingers moving.
She was so close I could feel it, that flutter around my fingers, her breath coming in short, jagged pulls.
“Josie.” Marcus’s voice, climbing. He was pissed now. “Who’s up there with you?”
She made a sound, half a sob, half a laugh, and I felt her break.
Her thighs locked around my head and I didn’t care if I suffocated.
She took a breath. Then she called out, her voice dead steady, “I-I was napping. Give me a sec.”
“Let me in, I’ll wait.”
“Marcus, I literally just woke up. I look like death. Let me shower, and I’ll come to you.”
I could hear him shuffling under her window.
“Fine,” he said. The word had an edge on it. “I expect you at eight. My mom’s in town to surprise me.”
His mom?
“I can’t. I’m exhausted. Next time.”
He didn’t wait even a beat. “She’ll ask where you are, and I honestly don’t want to have to call my father about your mom.”
She cursed under her breath, then called out, “Fine. Yep. I’ll be there.”
“Was that so hard?”
One day soon, I was going to kill him. She was still shaking, still gripping the couch cushion, still breathing like she’d just run the 400.
The second the engine noise faded, I curled my fingers, and Josie pulled her face out of the cushion and came again. This time she didn’t hold back. The sound filled the apartment, and I didn’t try to quiet her because there was nobody left to hear it.
She collapsed, boneless, breathing hard.
I sat back on my heels and wiped my mouth and looked at her. Her hair was wrecked. The clip had given up entirely. She had a pillow crease on her cheek, and her eyes were glassy.
“Well,” I said. “I thought it was very convincing.”
She threw the couch cushion at me with shockingly bad aim.
“I have to shower and do my hair and put on the girlfriend costume and sit across from his mother and smile.”
“Or I can join you, then you can go to dinner with my cum running down your leg.”
Her mouth hung open. “This is the part I can’t do forever, Waylon.”
I pulled her closer and pressed my mouth to her temple. “You won’t have to. I’m working on something.”