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“Bri?”
I shook my head. I was going to do this for him. Other girls had done this for their boyfriends. Luke wasn’t my boyfriend. We never gave ourselves a title, but he was mine. We were best friends. Everyone knew about our connection. I wanted to feel him in my mouth, but I was nervous. If I did this—and my mouth watered just thinking about it—maybe I could finally call him my boyfriend. He never asked me to be his. Neither did I. We just were, but I wanted to know. I wanted to call him my boyfriend and not just ‘my Luke,’ even though everyone already knew he was mine.
I slowly lowered my head closer to him. “Hey, hey.” Luke sat up, pulling away from me.
I looked up, confused. “What’s wrong?” The rejection hit me immediately. He didn’t want me to do that for him. He didn’t want me, repeated in my mind. Luke didn’t want me after all.
“Stop,” he said, lifting my head so I was looking him directly in the eye. It hurt. There was pity in his. I tried to look away, swallowing back the bile burning in my throat. I didn’t want him to feel sorry for me when he turned me down.
“Hey,” he said again. He caught my face and held me firmly.
I couldn’t look away, but I wanted to. His rejection hurt.
“This is not what you think.” He shook his head. His other hand went to my waist, and he lifted me off him. Holding me in the air for a moment, he scooted back and then placed me back on his lap. He was sitting upright, his back against the wall. When I tried to move away, he caught both sides of my face and turned me so we were nose to nose. He was looking into me now. I felt like he was stripping me bare, exposing how much I loved him, and deciding I wasn’t enough for him.
“Stop.”
I had yet to talk. The burning was too much. I shook my head instead.
“I love you.”
What? My eyes widened, and I stopped fighting. Had I heard that right?
The lines around his mouth softened, and he traced his fingers through my hair, smoothing my tendrils back and tucking them behind my ears. His fingers continued to rub down my jaw, falling to linger on my lips. He rubbed his thumb over them, and a rakish smirk appeared on his face. He said again, “Did you hear that? I know what you were going to do, and I want that. Holy shit, do I want that, but I wanted to tell you those words first.”
He loved me. Relief and joy pushed all the other emotions aside. I couldn’t talk again, though. The feelings were overwhelming.
“Do you?”
I laughed, my voice was raspy, and I nodded. Some tears fell from my eyes. Luke wiped them aside. “You do?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
He nodded, his gaze falling back to my lips. “My dad’s going to be home soon. I don’t want…” He trailed off as he indicated the bed.
He didn’t want it to be here, not when we could be interrupted.
I nodded in a jerking motion. “Okay.”
We heard the door open at that moment, followed by loud footsteps. The wood protested and creaked from under his father’s weight. Then his deep voice boomed a second later, “Luke?! You here?”
Luke shook his head. His hands fell to wrap around me, pulling me against his chest. His forehead lowered to rest on my shoulder, and I felt his lips brush against my neck as he said, “See? Perfect timing, huh?”
I didn’t care. His dad was an ass, but I didn’t give a damn right then. My hand cradled the back of his head, and my fingers tangled in his hair. “We can go to my place.”
“Yeah,” he continued to whisper.
“Luke?” His dad’s voice was louder and clearer. He was at the bottom of the stairs. “You up there? Answer me.”
“He’s going to come up here.”
We had to go. I nodded and slipped off his lap, going to his window.
I awoke to those same kisses being trailed up my throat, and it took only a slight second for everything to register. This was present day. That had been the past, before everything went wrong, and Luke was back. Luke was with me. I felt him push inside me, and my body reacted, instantly curving to move with him, my hips adjusting so he could go deeper.
Raising my hand, he pressed it to the headboard above me. He smirked down at me. “Morning,” he said as he moved out, then back in. Harder. Deeper.
My throat choked on a gasp. My lips opened, and I managed to get out, “Morning to you, too.”
He slid out, and then paused at my opening.
My eyes widened. “Wha—”
He shoved inside again, and the corner of his mouth lifted. His other hand held my hip prisoner as he slid out and slammed back inside. He kept going, in and out, in and out, all the while holding my gaze. Wave after wave of pleasure filled me. I stretched out, savoring the feel of him. He was all over me, claiming me. As he kept going, my hips moved with him. Rolling my head to the side, still holding his gaze, I gave him a side-grin, and he chuckled. He caught my chin, making me look him square in the eye again.
I didn’t know what was going on, if he wanted to dominate me, but I loved it. Feeling his thumb enter my mouth, my tongue flicked up to meet him, and he pulled it back out. He trailed his thumb down my neck, between my breasts, and all the way over my stomach. His hand lingered at the tip of me, rubbing slightly there.
I gasped, the sensations mingled with the pleasure of him inside me. They wound together, and I couldn’t think or talk. My hand held onto his shoulders, just grasping there, as he kept moving inside me at the same time as his finger was rubbing over me.