And then—oh my god—Su-Lin’s hand brushes against my penis, and my hormones shoot into overdrive. At first I think it was a mistake, and I try not to react, but then her hand settles right there on my jeans, her fingers brushing gently back and forth, and my libido revs to life, my whole body humming like a V8 engine.
“Unpredictable,” she says.
She is nothing if not that.
Fifteen
Su-Lin and Brendan
Brendan’s face is close to mine, so close that I can feel the brush of his evening stubble against my forehead. I can feel his surprised intake of breath, feel him hard under my hand and oh, wow, how that makes me ache. My eyelids flutter with the strength of it.
His eyes flick down to my lips; his are parted, his breathing uneven.
I’m not sure what possessed me to do this, other than this longing, this feeling for which I would use both the words “intense” and “passion,” though they sting a bit, because I’m not sure if he feels the same.
God, I want to know.
I don’t really know what I’m supposed todowith my hand, so I find myself petting his dick like it’s a bunny, and his body is responding, stretching, and a little groan escapes from deep in the back of his throat.
Okay. Petting the bunny is apparently good.
“I, um,” he says, wetting his lips. I lean in, and my body goes weak. I want to taste him forever, all over. “I want to make love to you. If you don’t want that yet, we need to stop.”
I don’t take my hand away, still stroking lightly, which he seems to like, but I don’t escalate, either—wait, did it just throb? Like in a romance novel? Does it really do that?
It’s not a question of whether I want to be with him—I want it so bad my body feels like it will burst if I can’t have it.
But I don’t want to push him too fast, which might send him over the edge into panic. And though I know I’ve agreed to be a kind of training girlfriend—without the label, of course—I’m starting to worry about whether I’m the one he’s going to want when the training wheels come off.
Then again, maybe what he needs is a taste of more, so he won’twantto look elsewhere.
“Are you ready?” I ask. My breath is shaky, and the words are too. “Do you think it might help you . . . progress?”
His dick flexes under my hand—I didn’t know they could do that, either. Is that good? “Hell, yes,” he says breathlessly. “To both. But I know you don’t want it to be casual, and—”
There’s an intensity to his gaze, his blue eyes so, so close to mine, and I’m glad for the happy alcohol-fueled haze that hog-ties all my doubts. I want to press even closer, my body knowing how to ease this ache.
“Does it feel casual?” I ask.
Brendan shakes his head. “Not to me.”
A chill runs down my back. I shudder involuntarily, and for a moment he looks concerned. But then I rub him harder, faster on top of his jeans, and his hips shift as he responds, and I bend down and speak into his ear in what I hope is a sultry voice. “Then yes. Let’s do this.”
Icup Su-Lin’s face in my hands and kiss her desperately.That “yes” is the sweetest, most precious thing, and it drowns out all my fear. I don’t hold back anymore. My sex drive has always been strong—a fact I’ve cursed over the years—but it’s like I’ve slammed on the gas with the engine in neutral, then suddenly popped it into drive. My whole body is humming and roaring. Our tongues find each other, and there again is that delicious taste of cherries and lemonade and a salty flavor all her own, and I’m aware that my hands are gripping her, pulling her closer, reaching for her ass, pulling her onto my lap and rubbing her sensually against me. She moans against my mouth, and her arms are tight around my neck.
Something inside me breaks.The chains that hold back my sexual desire—forged long before I was celibate—can’t hold up to this strain. She wants me, I can tell by the way her hips are grinding against me, rubbing in all the right places. I want to tear off her clothes and make love to her immediately—condom be damned—but more than that, I want to savor every second of this, draw out this moment and remember it for the rest of my life.
I stand, lifting her in my arms, and she clings to me, her legs wrapped around my waist, and god, how she turns me on. She kisses me fervently, and I open my eyes just enough to guide us to the bed, because if I bump into anything, I swear I’m going to end up fucking her against a wall.
I want this to be so much more than that, though even that kind of crass encounter would mean the world to me. She wants me, desperately, it feels like, and as I lay her on my bed, I’m struck with how beautiful she is, how singularly miraculous and perfect.
Brendan only wobbles slightly with the unbalance of holding me against him, my legs wrapped around his waist. We’re kissing furiously, and I feel him carrying me to the bed, and even through the fuzzy, golden haze of passion and several shots, I have a thought that is equal parts panic and excitement.
I’m going to have sex.
With Brendan.
My whole body is on fire, and I have this strange desire to text someone and brag about this. But Brendan is the one I text when something exciting happens, so . . . Sex. With Brendan. In his bed.
