“Which one what?” she asks.
“Which one needs an attitude adjustment?” I inspect the opponents. My eyes land on the one with five hairclip things on one side. The asymmetry bothers me plus the number of clips in her hair. That seems abnormal.
“Um, I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Ace tugs on my arm. Without taking my eyes off my suspect, I back away and crouch down because Ace wants to whisper something in my ear. “This class has all girls in it,” she hisses. Her mouth is only about an inch from my face. If I turned, I could kiss those sweet lips. It’s a temptation.
“Owen.”
That sounds like permission. I let my hand fall away from the door and twist my head a quarter turn. Her lips meet mine. Yep. Perfect angle. I open my mouth and run my tongue across her lower lip. She inhales quickly. That sounds like an invitation. I lean into the kiss, getting a good feel for the shape of her pouty lips, the taste of her sweetness, the smell of her strawberry shampoo. I reach up and cup her face, holding her still. She shudders under my grip. Her hands come up and clasp my wrist, not to push me away, but to hold me there. I get it. She feels like she’s drowning and needs an anchor.
I feel like that, too. I mean, I knew I wanted her from the first moment I laid eyes on her, and I knew she was my forever girl when I saw how she treated that girl and her mom, but I didn’t really understand how she was going to rock my world until I laid my mouth on hers.
We’re not really kissing. We’re making promises without words. I’m telling her that I’ll lay down my life to make her happy and she’s telling me she trusts me. I gather her closer, twisting around and standing up so I can press her perfect soft curves into my hard planes.
Her legs come up to wind around my waist. I tear my mouth away and look for the first available horizontal surface. When my eyes land on the tiled floor, it hits me where we are and what I’m doing. This is not the right place for our first time. Ace deserves roses and candlelight and a fucking bed. Holy shit, I’m an asshole. I lower her to the floor and back away.
“Sorry about that.” I scrape a hand through my hair. “I kind of lost track of where we were.”
She blinks at me, her lips puffy and red. “Don’t look at me like that,” I beg.
“Like what?” she asks, all knee-buckling sexy in her complete confusion and innocence.
“Like you don’t want anything else but for me to put my mouth back on yours.” I blow out a long, frustrated breath. “Let’s go inside before I maul you out here.”
“What if I want to be mauled?”
I bring a hand up to my own throat and squeeze myself—hard. Get yourself under control, you fool. The lack of oxygen helps me calm down a small amount. Enough so that I don’t turn on Ace and throw her down to the tile, rip her clothes off, and take her virginity in a way that she and I would both regret. Or love, says a tiny, evil voice.
“You okay, Owen?” she asks.
“Not really,” I admit. “I’m eighteen and haven’t had my dick in anything but my hand so it’s kinda hard for me to hear you say stuff like that and not want to tear a hole in your jeans and fuck you up against the wall but it’s our first day so I’m trying really hard to make a good impression here.” I glance down at her. “How am I doing?”
She grins. The devil grins at me. “I’ll tell you after sewing class,” she sasses and waltzes into the classroom, leaving me with a hard-on the size of a redwood.
I have only a few options here. I can go to the bathroom and rub one out or I can wait until my woody subsides. The problem is that these two choices take time so I opt for the third, painful one. I punch myself in the nuts.
Fuck! Tears prick my eyes. I bend over and gasp for breath. Maybe I should’ve spent two seconds trying to come up with another idea. Too late for that though. I heave out a couple more gasps and then straighten up. The sewing class has already started when I walk in. Ace eyes me curiously. I must have a pained expression on my face. I try to re-arrange my features into a smile, which only makes Ace’s head tilt to the side even more. I take the seat next to her and whisper, “Long story. I’ll tell you later.”