Author: Cheryl McIntyre

Fighting the triumphant smile that tugs at my lips, I slide my hands into the top of his jeans, tugging both his pants and underwear at the same time. He lifts his hips and I work them down, letting them drop onto the floor. And I don’t even care that I leave them there.

I look at him for several seconds before he laughs, drawing my attention back to his face. “Why are you laughing?” I ask defensively.

His laughing subsides, but he continues to grin at me, amusement in his eyes. “I never thought this would ever actually happen—you and me. And now you’re staring at my dick like it’s a freaking cheeseburger you can’t decide if you should eat or not.”

“Oh,” I utter, “I’m definitely going to eat it.”

Chase blanches, swallowing tightly. I feel my face heat because I’ve never done that before. Talked like that. But the way his breathing is coming in erratic bursts, leads me to believe he liked what I said.

I peek up at him. His eyes are pinched closed and his tongue darts out, skimming across his bottom lip. He buries his fingers into his hair—I think to keep from touching me. I take him into my hand and he grunts with approval. As my hand moves over him, up and down, he begins making small noises deep in his throat. It makes me feel good to know I’m doing this to him. I’m making him feel good. It’s empowering.

With a quick flick of my head to toss my hair over my shoulder, I lower myself, taking him into my mouth. His hips buck, I’m not sure whether from surprise or because it feels good. His hands come down hard on the bed, twisting into the sheets. His legs are stiff, the veins in his feet standing out.

I go faster.

It’s shocking how much I’m enjoying this. I’ve given blowjobs, mostly to Loden to keep him happy when I refused to sleep with him, but I never liked it. It was a means to an end. Something I used to get what I wanted.

It’s not like that with Chase. I love everything about this from his quiet moans, to the fisted sheets, to the slightly salty taste of his skin.

“Annie.” He pants my name. A warning. His hand comes down on my shoulder, trying to push me back. I understand completely, but ignore him. I want to taste him the same way he tasted me.

He tries again, more desperate this time. “Annie, I’m going to come.”

His toes curl and he tries to pull away, but I grip him tighter and move quicker until he moans loudly and I taste him on my tongue.

I sit back on my heels and peer down at him. He’s trying to catch his breath and he’s staring at me, a mixture of expressions on his face.

“Jesus,” he says. He scoops his arm around my waist and pulls me to his chest. My head rests against his pounding heart as he combs his fingers through my hair. “That was so much better than I ever imagined.”

He’s imagined it?

That makes me smile until I realize there’s no going back now. We’ve taken a gigantic step and everything’s changed between us forever.

~*~

I wake up tucked into Chase’s side. His scent surrounds me and I inhale deeply, breathing it in. It’s all warmth and security. I feel safe. I feel important. I feel cared for.

Whatever this is—whatever is happening between Chase and I—I’ve never felt like this before. I’m so happy, but I’m scared all the time.

Scared I’m like my mom and I’ll mess this up.

He stirs beside me and I panic. I washed my make-up off after he fell asleep last night. Now it’s bright, the sun shining brightly through his windows. I don’t want him to see me like this.

“Hey,” he rasps, his voice thick with sleep. I use my hair as a veil, shielding my face from his view as I sit up. He brushes it behind my ear and I push his hand away.

“Don’t.”

He freezes, his hand raised in the air between us. An excruciatingly long beat goes by before he pops up, blocks my hand as I try to stop him, and combs my hair out of my face. He takes my chin and raises it, forcing me to look at him.

“What’s wrong?” He’s staring hard, eyes narrowed, concern furrowing his brow. “Are you running?”

“No.” I pull back and crawl to the end of the bed. He jumps up, blocking me.

“Talk to me. You’re freaking out. Tell me why.”

“I’m not freaking out.”

Both hands are on my cheeks, holding me gently in place. “Please don’t do this. Don’t run away from me again.”

“Chase,” I sigh as I push his hands away. I duck my head, trying to hide.

“Why won’t you look at me?”

“Because.”

“Because why?”

“Just because.” I exhale shakily and try for honesty. “I need to get in the bathroom and shower. Put on my make-up. Then I’ll be fine.” He’s standing in front of the bathroom door and I wait for him to move, but he doesn’t budge.

“Look at me.”

“No.”

“Please.”

“NO.”

“Look at me and I’ll move.”

“Move or I’ll kick you in the nuts.”

He chuckles and I look up to glare at him. As soon as I do, he crushes into me, smoothing my messy hair over my shoulder. “That’s better. Now tell me what’s wrong.”

“I’m not wearing make-up.”

He gives me a strange look, his brows drawing together in confusion, and his head tipping to the side. “So?”

“So I look hideous.”

“What?” He presses his forehead to mine, almost painfully. “You are beautiful. You are never hideous.”

“Not even when I have an allergic reaction to shrimp?”

He laughs, shaking his head against mine. “It wasn’t your best look, but no. Not even then. I think you’re perfect with or without make-up or hives.”

I don’t know what he’s doing to me because I want to laugh and cry at the same time. It’s the sweetest, cheesiest thing anybody has ever said to me. And no matter how loudly that little voice in my head is shouting that Chase is lying, I believe him. Maybe I’m not very pretty without mascara, but he doesn’t see ugliness when he looks at me.

He just sees me.

And he likes what he sees.

42

Endlessly

Chase

“What would you do if I took all these post-its off your mirror and threw them away?” I ask Annie as she studies on her bed. I’ve been here for forty-five minutes. Forty-five minutes that she’s ignored me while she studies. I’m bored and I can think of a lot more interesting things to do instead. But I need to get her full attention first.

“Don’t touch them,” she replies without taking her eyes off the book in front of her face. I sigh loudly as I pluck one off and read it. I hold it out, the sticky back clinging to my finger.

“Do you think you could still function if you forgot to reread chapter six?” I crumble it, trying to be as noisy as possible. “I think you’ll live if you don’t do your homework twice.”

Annie looks up—finally—and glares at me. “I always reread chapters. It sinks in better after the second time.” She pulls a new post-it from her nightstand and rewrites the reminder, sticking it on top of her notebook.

I take another one down and crumble it, tossing it onto the bed at her feet. She raises her head slowly, eyes narrowed. I smirk as I snatch yet another bright pink post-it off her mirror and very slowly crinkle it. Her eyebrow arches and I pitch it just like the last.

She sets her book aside and I can’t help but grin. Now we’re getting somewhere.

“What are you doing?”

“Getting your attention. Is it working?”

“I don’t reward bad behavior.”

“Maybe you should punish me,” I suggest lasciviously.

“Fine. Leave.”

I drop onto the foot of her bed, causing it to bounce. Her notebooks slide across the comforter and she groans.

“You know you don’t really want me to go,” I say.

“Oh?”

I nod, trailing my finger over a wrinkle in the blanket. “You want me to stay.”

“Really?” She laughs dryly. “And what else do I want? Since you’ve suddenly become an expert.”

“You want to put your books away,” I say. I scoop up several papers and drop them over my shoulder. They flutter to the floor. Annie’s eyes widen with disbelief, but she doesn’t say anything.

“You also want to kiss me,” I add as I push the books sitting between us out of the way. “And you want me to kiss you.”

“You sound very sure of yourself.” Her cheeks are softly turning a satisfying shade of pink. I wiggle my finger at her, beckoning her to me. She hesitates for only a second before leaning in.

“Hopeful,” I correct. “I was very hopeful.” I tuck my hand behind her neck and guide her closer until she’s near enough to kiss.

And then I kiss her, kneading my hands down her back to her waist. I pull her against me, rolling as I do, so she’s lying on my chest. She laughs lightly, but it fades quickly as she begins kissing me back.

There’s never been a time I didn’t enjoy kissing. I pretty much jumped right on that shit and liked it from the start when I was fourteen. But when I kiss Annie, I feel like I’m doing it for the first time. I get that nervous excitement, tightening my stomach and making my heart race. Every single time feels new. And I love it. I swear the girl has crack in her lip gloss because I am so addicted to her mouth.

I could kiss her all day.

And all night.

Her fingers work into my shirt, running over my stomach. My muscles flex automatically in response. She pulls back and sighs sadly.

“I really should study. I need to take notes and make a study guide.”

I groan in protest. “You study too much.”

She sits up, her expression torn. Shit. I don’t want her to end up getting a B on a test and blaming me for ruining her four-point-O GPA. “Compromise,” I say. “I’ll take my shirt off and you can write your notes on me.”

Her lips lift into a smile—one of those rare ones that’s all teeth and happiness. “Write my notes on you?”

“Yeah. Make me your study guide. That way I still have your hands on me, you can enjoy my body, and you’re still studying.” I grin. “And who knows? I might actually learn something, too.”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“I like to think of myself more as apt.”

She arches a brow as she regards me. The longer she stares at me, the pinker her cheeks get, and I know I’ve won.

“Take your shirt off.”

~*~

I’m covered in Annie’s handwriting, but it was totally worth it. If she would let me take notes on her, I’d be acing all my classes. I think I’ll suggest it to her. After all, it made for one hell of a study hour. I kind of hope it doesn’t wash off.

I drop onto my bed and can’t help but to smile. I am so damn happy right now. I don’t care that Annie wants to keep us quiet. I don’t care that I don’t know how to categorize our relationship. I don’t even care that I’m in love with her and she doesn’t know it.

Because I think she loves me too.

This is enough. Whatever this is, whatever we are—it’s enough.

My phone rings and I’m surprised to see Park’s name on the caller ID. Between Lucy, the baby, school, and all the extra gigs he’s picked up, I barely talk to him anymore.

“Hey, man. What’s up?”

“I will give you my entire savings account if you babysit for me. Just an hour.” He pauses. “Two. Two hours. Please. Emari hasn’t been sleeping well and I haven’t had any alone time with Lucy. Our schedules actually match for the first time in two weeks. Two. Weeks. I’m begging you.”