Arranged (14 page)

“Your blush goes all the way down to your chest, huh?”

I squirm as he leans in and kisses the flushed skin, moving up my collarbone and to my throat. I fumble with his fly to take my mind off the tickling sensation his kisses wreck on my neck. He helps me, pulling his jeans off. I shake off his help with the boxers, though. I take a deep breath and pull them down quickly. He hisses as his erection bounces free of the fabric. It’s bigger than I thought it’d be.

“Did,” I lower my voice. “Did I do that to you?”

He laughs in my ear and nibbles on it. “You’ve been doing it for weeks, stupid. Months. Years. But only in the last few weeks did I have your face to imagine while I took care of it.”

“Just my face?” I tease.

“Maybe a little more.”

“Protection!” I bolt upright so fast I almost knock heads with him. “Oh crap, we can’t –”

“Relax.” He reaches under the pillow behind me and brings out a condom wrapper.

“You aren’t infested with cooties or anything, right? Because I can still get crap from you even with that. I read it in a book.”

He laughs. “You studied? Figures. But you’re right to be worried. I’m not. I’m clean. I promise.”

“I trust you,” I say it like a warning. His laugh gets soft and he leans into kiss me.

“I know.”

“And,” I break the kiss. “I don’t know how to put that thing on, so you have to.”

“Fair enough.” He unwraps the condom and I watch with great curiosity as he rolls it on. He shoots me a smirk.

“That eager, huh?”

“No!” I stick my tongue out. “I’m just taking notes. For later.”

“You can take the nerd out of college, but not college out of the nerd,” He sighs.

“People who use the word nerd are stupid,” I retort.

“I agree.” He presses me back into the pillows, kissing my neck with renewed ferocity.

“B-But I’m not stupid,” I say.

“No, you definitely aren’t,” He mumbles into my skin.

“But you are. Sometimes.”

Lee looks up, golden eyes smoldering with half-amusement, half-exasperation. “You’re babbling.”

“I’m nervous. I mean, not really nervous, but –”

He cuts me off with a kiss, hands wandering over my skin, behind my back and neck. He nudges my legs apart and slides those infuriating fingers inside, and the pooling heat floods me with a vengeance. The finger leaves and something bigger prods at my entrance, the tip stretching me open. My eyes go wide and I dig my nails into Lee’s back. His hand dances on that sensitive circle between my legs so well I’m blinded by the new pleasure – blinded, but not unfeeling to the sensation of being slid into and filled to the brim. His hand slows, lazily circling as his mouth explores beneath my ear.

“Jesus.” He sucks in a breath. “You’re tight.”

“Is that…Is that good?” My heart beats like a bee’s wing, fast but sweet, and my inhales are shallow. I’m stretched open and burning, but I bite my lip and bear it. Lee kisses my neck, sucking hard, like giving me hickies is the only way he can keep it together. Bits and pieces of Jen’s advice floats through my brain. I can’t remember anything clearly, except one thing. I clench my lower muscles as hard as I can. Lee’s hickie turns into a surprised bite, and he comes up for air quickly.

“Don’t! Shit, Rose.
Don’t
. If you do that…if you keep doing that, this isn’t going to last very long.”

“Sorry,” I laugh breathlessly.

“Just stay still,” He pants. “For a few seconds.”

Lee moves, slowly. He barely pulls out and leads in again, his hand kneading between us. With every press of his fingers on my clit, he thrusts and adds more pressure. He’s serious, watching my face as pleasure shoots across it.

“I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Hot sparks flood me and recede like ocean waves. I lock my legs behind his back and wrap my arms around his neck. “F-Faster.”

No smart-ass comments about my request, this time. He locks eyes with me, smirking like he knows the joke he could make again. But this time he’s trapped by pleasure, too. He has no patience for games. His thrusts become faster, deeper, moves his hips to get different angles and I arch my back with his rhythm. The bed gives little groans that match my soft moans. Lee is quiet, but I can see the concentration in his expression.

His eyes soften and he buries his face in the crook of my neck, my words a signal for his thrusts to become desperately hard and deeper than ever. That wet, slick noise starts again, and a hot blush spreads all over me - inside me - when I realize it’s the sound of him fucking me. His hand not occupied runs through my hair, over my breasts, and finally settles in mine, lacing our fingers together. A thin sheen of sweat coats his skin, and makes it shine golden in the light.

I don’t know what he does, but I shatter first – panting his name and writhing my hips in a desperate attempt to feel more, trying to grind the explosion of white-hot nerve fire out for as long as I can. My legs tremble, my entire body glowing with heat and pleasured shivers as I hear myself begging for him to fuck me. Lee groans, biting my neck as his thrusts become hard and slow. I do the muscle thing again, and he groans a swear mixed with my name. We go still, gasping for air to even our breathing, but he doesn’t pull out or roll off.

He pants. “I can feel your heartbeat.”

“We
are
kind of close,” I laugh. He presses his forehead to mine.

“No, inside. I can feel your heartbeat through your insides. Shit, is that too creepy? Forget I said it. Sounded way more romantic in my head.”

I laugh again and lean up to kiss him, tenderly at first, but Lee starts moving again and it only takes a minute this time before the molten pleasure shoots through me and I’m moaning into his mouth.

Those are the first two.

There are four more.

~~~

We spend the weekend in bed. And when Lee isn’t making me twist and pant in inhuman ways, we make food. Well, Lee makes food. Shirtless. I just sort of sit and watch him work with the knives and the way the light plays on his shoulders. Sometimes I tease him, trying to break the cooking concentration by blowing in his ear or tracing his spine. He gets sick of it and tackles me into the couch, and it’s all making out and tangled limbs from there. Sometimes, I wake to find him tracing my skin, my lips, all the while staring thoughtfully at my moles and scars. Sometimes showering is an excuse to have sex that smells like soap, but sometimes it’s just Lee leaning his head on my chest and letting me wash his hair like a child. We go down to the corner store, barely dressed in anything resembling real clothes, and buy wines neither of us knows anything about. I have no work this week. I skip most of my classes except for tests, making the excuse to myself that I’m way ahead in the homework. The envelope Grace left for me has five hundred dollars in it – modeling money. I didn’t expect to get anything from it, so the amount makes my eyes bug a little. Lee brings out the magazine and teases me about the spread, and I smack him playfully. I comment that I haven’t seen his fabled sleepwalking. He smiles and says it only happens when he’s stressed, or sad, and my heart lifts at the realization I’m the reason he isn’t stressed or sad.

On Monday, Lee skips a swim practice to stay with me.

He watches me, sprawled out in bed, the white sheet hiding nothing – I can see his bronze skin shining just beneath it, dark and shifting like a shadow under water. I sit on the end of the bed, between his feet. He raises a dark brow.

“Normal people sleep up here.” He hits the empty pillow for emphasis. I smile and pull the sheets up, off his feet.

“Jesus, it’s cold, Rose! Put it down.”

“Okay.” I duck my head under, sliding my body between his legs and letting the sheet go. It piles over my head and I must look like a kiddish halloween ghost, because Lee barks a laugh.

“What are you doing?”

“Diving for treasure,” I singsong. Under here I can smell his sharp aftershave so well. In the dim lamplight it’s a little hard to see, but my hands find his thighs quickly, and from there, the source of the heat between them. It’s not limp, but it’s not hard, more an in-between. I grasp the base of it and slide my fingers up slowly.

“Rose -!” Lee breathes.

“Found it,” I murmur happily. I stroke faster and hover just above, waiting until it becomes as hard in my palm as it does between my thighs.

“Rose, h-have you ever…done this?” Lee’s voice cracks – in anxiety? Or eagerness?

“Just trust me,” I coo. The closer I bring my mouth to the quivering tip, the stronger the smell of his musk assaults me – faint soap and sweat and some nameless spice that is all Lee. The skin of it is so soft, but drawn tight, and the head is the softest part of all. I breathe on it, first cool air, and then warm air, and then cool air again, and Lee’s hips give a delightful twitch and the half-swear, half-panting sound he makes sends pure lightning up my spine. He can’t see me under the sheet, so I try to compensate by providing a nice view – curling my spine and rounding my ass like I’m waiting for someone to mount me from behind.

“I’m –”

Before he can get another fevered word out, I lick him from base to tip and back down again. He groans and his hips buck and he unwittingly (or wittingly) sheathes himself in my mouth, scraping ever-so-lightly past my teeth. My tongue pillows him, wraps around and tries to circle him entirely but it’s impossible; my tongue’s too short and he’s too big. When his hips slacken from the sudden flood of sensations, I take the moment and try to remember what Kory told me – breathe through my nose, slowly and deeply. I slide my mouth up, and down, one hand grasping the base and the other pinning his twitching left hip. If I let him go crazy this’ll be over too soon. His breathing comes in short, ragged bursts, and I feel his hands fist the bedsheets as he gets closer. I let him go from my mouth with a wet pop and slink up his chest, lifting the sheet to see his face. His cheekbones are splashed with red, entire face twisted with half-ecstasy and half-confusion.

“Why did you stop?”

“I wanted to see your face.” I lay my head on his chest and look up at him with the biggest, most innocent gaze I can muster. “I didn’t know if I was doing it right so I had to check.”

“B-Bullshit, you know full well you’re doing it right,” He chuckles, chest heaving. I sink under the sheet and he’s in my mouth again, hard and hot as ever. It’s wet and a little messy around my lips. I try to keep it dry and neat but he loses total control, hips breaking free of my hand and thrusting, touching the back of my throat. I nearly gag but focus on my breathing and suddenly I can feel him pulsing, his heartbeat in my throat and a flood of something warm and slippery pooling in my mouth. Kory said I should show him. They like that. I pull Lee out, crawl up his chest, and lift the sheet. His brow is faintly shining with sweat and his golden eyes are filled with a deep content. I open my mouth, and when he sees what’s inside his gaze become darker, and he grips my chin, forces my mouth shut, and locks eyes with me.

“Swallow.”

I do. And he kisses me and whispers promises about returning the favor.

Chapter Eight

In Which Lee Montenegro Lies

When Lee’s coach’s messages blow up his phone, he finally hefts out of bed for the day and showers and dresses like a normal person and kisses me, promising he’ll be back as soon as he can manage. Today, I’m alone.

I run back to my dorm and grab my textbooks and toothbrush and a bundle of my own clothes. It’ll be nice to wear my own things instead of Lee’s clothes – not that he doesn’t get hard just looking at me in nothing but one of his oversized shirts. But if I keep wearing his clothes and he keeps getting hard so often I’m fairly certain I won’t be able to walk right for the rest of my life.

As I ride the elevator back up to the apartment, my thoughts catch up with me. What is this thing we’re doing? Is this a relationship? Or just sex? All I know is I’m happy, and Lee laughs a lot. Smiles a lot. He doesn’t get that far-off sad look in his eyes as much, and when he does I kiss it away. I don’t know what this is. But I like it.

When I unlock the apartment door, I find someone sitting on the couch. Her beautiful sheet of blonde hair is sleek, every inch of her toned and lean. Her off-the shoulder sweater and jeans make her look casually chic – and completely intimidating. She fixes her blue eyes on me and smiles.

“I let myself in.”

“Hi, um.” I clutch my clothes to my chest, like I’m trying to hide behind them. “I’m Rose.”

“Kiera,” She holds up a key from a heart-shaped chain. “A friend of Lee’s.”

She has the apartment key? I frown and excuse myself, putting my stuff on the bed and coming out to find her standing at the counter, perfectly manicured fingers running over one of my rose-patterned crème brulee dishes.

“Did he get these for you?” Kiera smiles at me. “He’s good at that - getting gifts for girls.”

Now that she’s standing I can see she’s exactly my height. But while she’s wearing cashmere, I’m in an oversized sweatshirt of Lee’s. She walks - no,
saunters
- over to me, and leans in close. Her perfume is light, but her stare is heavy as she picks at my sweatshirt and sniffs it.

“Smells like him.”

I pull away. “Sorry if this is rude, but why are you here?”

“He didn’t tell you?” Kiera’s blue eyes get a faux-wounded look. “Oh, he can be so cruel when he wants to be. But I’m sure he hasn’t shown you that side of him. He likes to pretend he’s a nice boy now that he’s found you, but I remember the real him.”

I narrow my eyes. “Are you –”

“An ex-girlfriend? You could say that.” She touches my crème brulee dish again. “But he never really had girlfriends. I was just the girl who lasted longest, the only one who didn’t run away crying. He used them, you see. One by one, went through them like tissues. He loves you. He keeps loving you, over and over, and fucking your brains out, and then -”

She makes a poofing, vanishing motion and laughs.

“Did he ever tell you what he did to the other girls? You should ask him, sometime. The girls themselves won’t tell you, of course. They’re too scared. Too ashamed.”