Come Together (The Cityscape 3)

I told myself it was a silly coincidence, but something sweet passed between us. He broke the stare and flipped through a few more pages before replacing it on the shelf. I sat on the edge of the bed and observed as he looked through everything, stopping now and then to read the title of a book or movie.

He came to sit next to me. “I like being here. I get to see a different part of you.”

“Do you like what you see?” I asked, arching an eyebrow at him.

His eyes moved to my lips, and a grunt was his non-response.

“I’m not supposed to have boys in my bed,” I whispered. Before he could stop me, I threw a leg over him and settled astride his lap. “Dad would flip.”

He took two handfuls of my ass and squeezed, pulling me against his crotch.

“You’re hard,” I murmured, my mind buzzing, my insides thrilling. He skated one hand up my back and stilled me by the nape of my neck. He held it as he latched his lips to mine in a sensual kiss that quickly turned hard and greedy. His tongue reached for me hungrily as his hand secured me to him. I gyrated in his lap as he flexed his other hand against my ass.

“Lose your virginity here?” he rasped.

I shook my head. “College,” I breathed and then kissed him again. “You?” I asked into his mouth.

“Sixteen.”

“Head cheerleader?” I pushed my hips into him, creating a slow but purposeful rhythm.

“Something like that,” he said from behind gritted teeth. “You?”

“Jordan Banks, my,” my breath hitched when he pulled me against him harder, “first boyfriend.”

He flipped me over onto my back suddenly and grasped my hips in his hands. My legs surrounded him as he continued his deliberate movements, his crown grinding against my clit.

“You’re gonna . . . make me . . . come,” I breathed, gasping with each acute sensation.

With a snap, he popped open the button of my jeans with one hand and pulled them over my ass. He propped himself above me with an outstretched arm. “Touch yourself in this bed?” he asked. He bypassed my pants to continue his sinuous teasing against my panties.

“Yes,” I whimpered.

“Show me.”

I hesitated, lost in the sensations singing through my body. He grasped my hand and lowered it between my legs. He shifted his hips and clamped my hand over my mound, circling my fingers over my clit.

“Oh, God,” I moaned, bowing my back. “Right there.”

“Don’t stop,” he said gruffly as he removed his hand to undo his fly. I massaged myself and watched his cock fall heavy into his hand. His lids were low as he stroked himself, never taking his eyes off my hand.

He groaned loudly. “I could come just watching you.”

I urged him forward by pushing my heels into his ass.

He glanced over his shoulder. “We can’t.”

I kneaded faster over my underwear, squirming beneath him and breathing heavily. “Please,” I panted. I reached out to touch him, and his other hand fisted the sheets next to my head. Suddenly, he tore my jeans off the rest of the way, yanked my panties aside and fed himself into me.

He made a nose from the back of his throat, and his eyes remained locked on my hand. “Don’t stop,” he rasped, sliding in and out of me. He grasped my hip in one hand and continued bracing himself against the bed with the other. I applied more pressure and circled faster, bringing myself to the edge as he thrust into me. Within a few plunges he was coming with his jaw clenched, clawing at the sheets, jerking as his heat coursed into me. I grabbed onto his t-shirt as my pleasure crested, seizing and releasing me repeatedly, arching my back and bucking my hips. When I finished he was watching me with wide eyes. I released my back onto the mattress and let go of his shirt.

“Fuck,” he breathed.

I pulled him down by his neck and kissed him. “Thank you, baby. That was just what I – ”

He jumped back when the door slammed downstairs.

“Shit,” I hissed, fumbling to do up my jeans. I flew to my feet as David buttoned his own pants. My dad’s voice rang through the house. After a moment to catch my breath, I responded. “Up here, Dad.”

I heard him climbing the steps as David whirled to the bookshelf to pick up my prom photo.

“That was quick,” I squeaked as he leaned in the doorway.

“Didn’t need much,” he said with a shrug.

“I was just asking Olivia about her high school prom,” David blurted loudly, and I refrained from rolling my eyes. This was the one moment where he couldn’t be cool? I shifted on my feet suddenly and cursed under my breath, just as David caught my eye.

“John Harper,” my dad remarked, nodding at the photo. “He still causin’ trouble?”

Fuck . . . I fought the urge to adjust myself as my panties dampened with David’s semen.

“Olivia?” David asked.

I grimaced as I shifted again, and David furrowed h

is brows at me. When my dad turned to David, I quickly pulled at my crotch. “Um, I don’t – not sure.”

A lewd smile crossed David’s face.

“Well, I’ll get started on those leftovers,” Dad said.

“I’ll help,” David volunteered.

When they left, I ran to the bathroom. Suddenly I understood why David had tried to me fend off – almost getting caught was not sexy. But as I cleaned myself up, I couldn’t bring myself to regret it.

Once I’d changed, I rejoined them in the kitchen. They were a beer deep, so I grabbed a Heineken and sat back to watch as my dad showed David how to make steak enchiladas. David gave my dad his undivided attention, seemingly eager to acquire this new skill. I sighed. If he learned to cook, then he really would be perfect, and where would that leave me?

I was feeling tired from my day in the sun, so I let them talk about work and other things as I ate. David glanced at my empty plate when I sat back in my chair and winked at me. When I offered to do the dishes, my dad shooed me away, and I flopped onto the couch, completely sated. I wondered, as they cleared the table together, if I should be worried that my dad was treating David more like a peer than his daughter’s boyfriend.

I flipped through the channels until they’d finished and put on ESPN at their request. David sat on the couch with his long legs spilling in front of us. I lay my head on his lap and tuned out the show while he played with my hair.

“You awake?” was the next thing I heard. I opened my eyes. It was dark and SportsCenter was on the screen, but it was muted.

“Did I fall asleep?” I asked.

“Yeah. Your dad just went to bed.”

“Mmm, sorry.”

His hand stroked my hair, and I closed my eyes again.

“I’ll take you upstairs.”

“Not yet,” I said softly.

He lifted my torso to arrange his legs lengthwise on the couch. Because it was a tight fit, I climbed atop him to rest my cheek on his broad chest. He slid his hand under my hair, freeing it from my neck.

“Are you having fun?” I asked.

“Yeah.”

“What time is your flight?”

“I don’t have one.”

“Why not?”

“I’ll buy it when we get to the airport.”

“Oh.” I shifted on him and smiled when I realized it was so we’d fly together. “Good.”