Starlee's Home (The Wayward Sons 3)

We switch the cars at Claire’s, leaving the Jeep and getting into Leelee’s sedan. It’s warmer and the seats are more comfortable. I took the keys from her, not trusting her not to fall asleep. She doesn’t argue and as soon as we’re on the road, her eyes flutter closed.

We’re just outside Lee Vines when she stirs, stretching her arms and wincing. “I’m not going to be able to walk tomorrow.”

“Take some pain medication and ask your grandmother for a heating pad.”

She nods and reaches behind my neck, threading her fingers in my hair. It feels so good to have her touch me. It’s all I think about—all the time.

“Can you find a spot to pull over?” she says suddenly. Her nails scratch against my neck. I don’t have to be asked twice. I turn on the road to Yosemite and then pull off on one of the overlooks. It’s one of my favorites, day or night. The moon has already risen over the mountains, casting a glow over the clear pond and waterfall just below.

I shift the car in gear and move so I can see Starlee better. She looks a little more refreshed after her nap. I take her hand and pull it to my lips, kissing her softly.

“I need more days like these,” she says, watching my every move.

“It’ll happen. Even if things are bad for a while longer, it’s only six months until we graduate.” She nods and suddenly she’s just way too far away. I ignore her confusion when I unlatch my door, get out, and walk around the front. Her eyes follow me until I’m at her side. Recognition clicks in her eyes and she’s already opened her door before I get there.

I slam the door behind her, pushing her up against the cool metal. Her mouth meets mine, hungry and desperate. Even with the la

yers removed, there’s too much separating us and it’s too cold outside. I take a step back and open the back door and pull her back inside with me.

We meet in the middle, tight in a little cocoon. There’s no expectations but I’m not disappointed when things move fast. I push at her shirt and she lifts it over her head, revealing a black bra with tiny pink flowers stitched in the fabric. I groan and reach for her, kissing her lips, neck, and shoulders as she tugs at my T-shirt. Impatient, I remove it for her, tossing it aside, and her lips move to my chest, sucking little kisses down my belly.

I’ve missed this. Missed her, and I don’t know if I’ve ever been so hard. When she climbs on top of me and settles her weight over my hips, I clench my teeth and will myself to behave.

Which is very, very hard when she’s grinding down on me, long hair hanging in her cleavage. I brush it aside and trail my fingers down her pale skin. “You’re beautiful.”

She bends forward, giving me a better view, and shit…deep breaths. Deep. Fucking. Breaths.

Soon she’s only in that spectacular bra and a matching pair of panties. Her fingers dip beneath the waist of my jeans. My stomach trembles, her touch perfect and killing me. My mind rotates between hyper awareness and disconnection but when I hear the metal tines of my zipper, I grab her by the wrist.

I utter the most regretful thing I’ve ever had to say. “I don’t have a condom.”

She breathes heavily, which only makes her chest rise and fall in my line of vision. I desperately want to take it back. I want to say fuck it. Who cares? It’ll be okay, but this is Starlee, not some quick lay, and I know better.

“Okay,” she says, like it’s not the biggest upset in the world. I’m not sure what she’s up to when she continues to lower my jeans and rolls her hips anyway, two thin layers of cotton separating us. The friction feels good, right, and she’s sitting on top of me taking control. I touch the side of her breast, tugging at the satin fabric, and she drops her head back, working her body against mine. I don’t know if it’s the way she’s moving, the fact I’m horny as hell or the way she’s breathing that gets me into the moment, but I am. My hands move to her hips and I drag her against me, feeling the build-up increase with every pass.

Starlee bites down on her plump, red bottom lip, her crotch rubbing against me frantically. It feels good and damn, I can tell she feels good too. I’m entranced when she moans softly and her body starts to tremble. She shivers, shudders, drops her head so her hair trails over my chest and I kiss her, feeling her ride her orgasm out just as mine is beginning.

“Jesus,” I breathe into her mouth and her tongue slips between my lips, only adding to the sensation. My hips buck and I groan, breathing deep against her shoulder. When I look up, she smiles at me, nose wrinkled at the sticky wetness between us.

“That was…” she says and I see her cheeks start to warm with embarrassment.

I touch the side of her face. “Amazing. You’re amazing.”

I mean it, and as she lowers herself into my arms, I’m glad it turned out this way. Being apart is making us desperate. Risky. A little dry-hump in the backseat of the car is a reminder that it’s okay to slow down. It gave me a chance to see a different side of her; a little more confident, a little more secure. And ultimately, I just want Starlee to feel free.

17

Starlee

With a week left before Christmas break, we shift into gear. Besides school work, there’s the service project, which kicks off hard-core on Monday, meaning the weekend is getting it all set up.

I feel a strange sense of pride with this project—it’s the only thing I’ve really done on my own since coming to California. The lodge is my grandmother’s. Homecoming was orchestrated by Claire and only happened because of my association with the fact the student body finds the wayward sons as irresistible as I do. The serving stuff was my own—especially this winter project.

“Starlee!”

I turn away from my open locker and see Jasper walking down the hall. He’s wearing a blue and gray letter jacket—a baseball logo on the chest. “I wanted to find out what time you wanted to meet to go get the tree tomorrow.”

“I’m pretty available all day, what works for you?”