My tongue slides around his dick, trying to hit every spot for a taste.
“Fuck, I’m gonna come so fucking hard. Where did you learn to do this?” he growls.
I feel a pulsing sensation in his dick before his cum shoots out in warm, rhythmic jets.
I take all of it down, loving every single drop. We’re both breathing heavily when I pop off of him and crawl upward until we’re face-to-face.
His hands find my cheeks, and his lips crash against mine. It’s … everything. My heart soars into my throat, joy and disbelief tangling in my chest.
His mouth moves over mine like a man who knows what he wants and takes it. It’s like I’ve never truly been kissed until now. He grazes my cheek, then trails down my neck, breath hot against my skin.
“Where did you learn how to do that, Natalie?”
My body locks. Every nerve inside me snaps taut.
What did he just say?
My stomach plunges as the name echoes inside my head.
“Natalie?” I whisper.
He jerks back like I burned him, nearly falling off the edge of the bed. He’s panting, wide-eyed. His hands hover near his mouth, like he’s trying to erase what just happened.
There’s a beat of silence. Then it drops.
“Jessie?” he growls—different now. Hard. Sharp. “What the fuck are you doing?”
I blink. My lips still tingling from his kiss.
He is out of bed and pulling his boxers back up in the matter of seconds. His hands tangle in his hair as he rocks back and forth, like he’s trying to wake from a nightmare.
Humiliation floods me. My face burns. My heart—God, my heart—shatters.
He jumps off the bed and begins pacing across the room, dragging both hands through his hair.
“You’re my sister’s best friend,” he spits. “You … you just graduated high school, Jessie. Jesus.”
“I—” My voice is small, shaky. “I thought?—”
“You thoughtwhat? That this was okay? That there was something here?” He laughs bitterly, but there’s no humor in it. Only rage. Only guilt.
I can’t speak. I can’t even look at him.
“I should’ve never—” He bites the inside of his cheek, then turns away from me. “This was a mistake. All of it.”
Tears sting my eyes, but I refuse to let them fall. He won’t even look at me now. Because to him, I’m a child. A mistake.
And I don’t understand why the rejection feels laced with something deeper, like he’s breaking apart from the inside.
But I know he won’t tell me.
He just shakes his head as I walk toward his door. “We can’t, Jessie. Ever.”
I don’t ask why.
Because I already feel like I’m not enough. And I don’t think I can survive hearing the truth if it’s worse than that.
The memory always hits like a sucker punch, no matter how many years pass. I’ve replayed that night more times than I care to admit—searching for something I missed, some hidden clue in his expression, in his voice.
