Page 85 of A Little Crush
The tendons along his jaw flex. “What if…what if what I want hurts you in the long run?”
Hurts me? He’s afraid of hurting me in the long run? Doesn’t he get it? Not being with him hurts me. Overthinking the push and pull he’s been putting me through hurts me. Living in denial and not knowing what he wants hurts me.
Playing with the hem of his shirt, I counter, “Maybe, foronce in your life, you should stop thinking about other people’s feelings and be selfish.”
“Selfish, huh?” His fingers graze my waist, leaving a hot trail along my skin as he gives in and touches me.
“Yes,” I whisper. “Be selfish. Stop thinking of me or your ex or our families. What do youwant, Jax?”
“I want to kiss you again.”
I lift my chin another centimeter and press my trembling hand to his chest, soaking in the familiarthump-thumpagainst my palm as I silently beg my legs to not give out. “No one’s stopping you.”
“But what if?—”
“Don’t you dare finish that sentence.” Fisting the fabric of his T-shirt, I tug him toward me, daring him to push me away, to hit the final nail in the coffin and end things once and for all. But he doesn’t. Instead, his lips meet mine as he captures my mouth in a kiss. And it feels good. Really good. My own what-ifs threaten to rise to the surface, but I push them down, refusing to let my insecurities ruin this moment. Because despite my faux confidence in the situation, he isn’t the only one who’s scared. Who’s unsure. Who doesn’t know what they’re doing. He isn’t the only one who doesn’t want to hurt anyone in the process of giving in to what they want for the first time…ever.
And, yes. I want this. I want this so much it hurts.
“Fuck, Squeaks,” he rasps against me. “This is such a bad idea, isn’t it?”
“Probably one of the worst,” I agree before diving in for another kiss. His fingers tickle my skin as he drags them across the hem of my sleep shorts before pressing his knee to the apex of my thighs. On instinct, my muscles tighten, and my core throbs.
Yeah, I’m ready. I don’t even know what I’m ready for, not personally, but I can feel it. The desperation as it spreadsthrough me. It's not like I don’t know how sex works or what an orgasm feels like. But experiencing it with someone is very different than on your own in a quiet room with nothing but your imagination to spur you on. Having Jaxon up close and personal? His warm, woodsy scent washing over me? His hands on my skin? His tongue dragging against mine? It’s an entirely different concoction and puts any fantasy of what I thought it would be like to be with him to shame.
“Fuck,” he rasps. “The things I could do to you.”
“So do them,” I whisper, rolling my hips against his thigh.
“The cameras?—”
“I’ll wipe the footage before my parents even think about checking them,” I reply, daring him to come up with another excuse as to why we can’t keep this interaction on its current trajectory because, uh, yes, please.
Sucking on the sensitive patch of skin beneath my ear, he murmurs, “You should go out with me.”
Go out with him? He wants to talk about going out when it’s clear I’d rather have him come inside? And I mean it in the literal sense, just like Tatum suggested during our phone call a couple days ago.
Fighting the urge to roll my eyes, I squeeze them shut instead and tilt my head, giving him better access to whatever the hell he wants from me. “And you should not be a wet blanket and let me enjoy this.”
“Rore—”
“Come inside,” I beg. “I want to see what this is like without you pushing me away before we get to the good part.”
A low groan slips out of him as he dives in for another kiss, hitching his knee a little higher until all I can do is rub myself against him.
“Tell me your parents aren’t home,” he growls.
“My parents aren’t home.”
Bending down, he grabs the back of my thighs and scoops me into arms, making me squeal in surprise. “Spread your legs,” he orders.
So I do, wrapping them around his waist as he carries me toward one of the pool chairs that’s lying flat and sets me down. I reach for his shoulders, praying he won’t pull away, and by some miracle, he doesn’t. Instead, he climbs on top of me, shifting between my thighs until he’s cradled between them when his mouth meets mine again. Liquid heat pools at my core as the ridge of his cock presses against me, leaving me lightheaded and needier than I’ve ever been.
A small part of me wonders if I’m moving too fast, but the other part? The other part is screaming that this has never felt more right, and if we really consider the timeline of my crush on the guy, he’s basically put me through the slowest burn ever. It’s not like I’ve kept my distance from the opposite sex because of fear or because I want to keep my virginity intact. It’s because no one has ever made me feel the way I feel right now. No one has ever made me want to be touched like this. Like how Jaxon is touching me in this moment. Arching my back against him, I let out a soft whimper, savoring the feel of his mouth on my sensitive skin.
“You a virgin, Beautiful?” he rasps against me.
My body oozes with need as I force my head to nod. But the feel of his hands on me, his breath against the column of my throat, it’s too much. He’s too much. My eyelids flutter, and I tilt my head a little more, giving him better access as he breathes me in before planting an open-mouth kiss against my neck.
