Page 111 of Bad at Love
“I have a right to get jealous. I’m your girlfriend now.”
“But you have no reason. You trust me, don’t you?”
“I do! I said I do. But you have to understand what it looks like. Other girls might think you’re leading them on.” I take in a deep breath, closing my eyes. This bathroom doesn’t smell the best. “Laz, it bothered me okay? If that makes me jealous and crazy, fine. Then you’re just going to have to deal.”
He sighs, long and heavy, and his grip slips down to my hand where he holds my fingers. “Then I’ll deal. Look…” he rubs his lips together, brushes a strand of hair off my face tenderly, “Maybe I have been…flirty…with other women, in the past, and maybe my girlfriends never called me on it because they never really cared. And maybe I did it because I didn’t care. And maybe I didn’t yell at them because I didn’t care enough to. But…I fucking care about you.” He pulls me to him. “I’m sorry I was acting inappropriate. I thought nothing of it and it meant nothing to me but I know it means something to you. I promise I’ll be better. I guess this is where my lessons in love come in, don’t they?”
I stare at him openly. He didn’t quite tell me he loves me but his eyes are wide for a moment, as if he’s said something he shouldn’t have.
God. I don’t want to wait anymore.
“Laz,” I say to him, gathering my fears. “You’re not bad at love. Because I am absolutely, positively in love with you.”
He blinks at me in shock.
“You don’t have to say anything in response,” I say quickly. “I just wanted you to know because it’s too much of a burden to keep it to myself. But I love you. I love you.”
Silence.
Then it’s like he’s an animal unleashed. He’s grabbing my face, lips devouring mine, tongue pushing into my mouth, stroking every pent up desire.
I grab him in kind, my hands in his hair, at the back of his neck while his hands grab my waist, my ass, pinching, groping. We grapple together in a frenzy of heat and lust and something unbelievably real.
I’m pushed back against the dirty, tile wall, pinned there, and I’m his, completely his. My body operates on pure instinct, throwing myself into him with no inhibitions, no caution. It craves him as much as my mind and soul do. As he presses against me, breathing hard and kissing me, messy and wet, I put my hands around his shoulders and relish the lean, taut muscles of his back as I pull him in.
One of his hands is lost in my hair, tugging on it the way I like, and I let out a breathless gasp from the sweet pain. The other is lifting up the hem of my dress, pulling it up around my waist. I’ve stopped wearing underwear these days and he lets out a deep moan that I feel vibrate through me as he explores me with his fingers.
“No knickers,” he murmurs. “Good girl.” He sticks three of his large, long fingers inside me and I clench around them, begging for more.
“Hurry up and fuck me,” I tell him.
He laughs, low and rich, reaching down to lift me up so my legs are wrapped around his waist. I reach down between us and frantically try to undo his belt, to let him loose.
“Hold on, sweet girl,” he says, pulling down his jeans and briefs until his cock bobs freely, so dark and rigid andmine.
He holds himself at my cunt and waits for a few beats. Ican feel the heat coming between us, burning into an inferno that will take no prisoners, as he pushes in with one large, hard thrust.
I can’t help the cry that escapes from my lips, and then the soft, “Oh,” as he slowly, agonizingly, pulls himself out, his cock absolutely drenched.
He eases himself back in, a few inches at a time, his lips brushing over mine.
“I like it when you get jealous, you know that?” he whispers against my mouth, his words breaking off into a groan. “I like it when I’m on stage and I see you watching me with all that lust in your eyes. I like that I can drag you into this bathroom, we can fight and yell, and then I can fuck your brains out. I don’t just like it. I love it.”
My heart expands in my throat. I can’t speak, I can only feel, and the intense gaze of his eyes tells me that something is happening, something new. He didn’t say he loved me but it was pretty damn close.
His eyes continue to burn into me as he pushes himself in and out, pumping steadily. He lightly places his fingers on my chin and holds my face, making sure I can’t break eye contact, can’t look away, can’t escape his gaze.
His feelings.
My feelings.
Our moans are hushed, our breaths rough and ragged as he moves inside me, his hips circling, round and round and round, so he hits each and every tightly wound nerve. Again and again.
It’s so fucking good.
It’s everything I dreamed we could be.
We are joined as one and the more he thrusts in, deeper, deeper, the warmer he feels, like a fire that can’t be held back much longer. A trickle of sweat rolls down his browand his eyes pinch shut as he starts to climax, his mouth going for the crook of my neck where he bites and sucks and licks as he pounds me, losing control.
