“Beth,” I whisper against her mouth, thrusting deeper, giving into this and blocking out everything that isn’t her. “Beth, God . . . Beth.”
She trembles, her body locks up. “Reed!” she cries out, jerking my dick with the hottest pussy I’ve ever had. “Yes, yes, yes, oh, God.”
“Reed?” Mia’s cautious voice cuts through one of Beth’s noises. “Oh my God,” she whispers.
I bury my face in Beth’s neck, fucking her through her orgasm, feeling mine building at the base of my spine. So close. God, Beth, give it to me.
“Reed!” Ben yells, his voice echoing against the ceiling.
“One second.”
“If your fucking dick is out right now,” he threatens.
Blood rushes in my ears, drowning out every sound that isn’t my own heartbeat. I squeeze her ass, grinding Beth against my dick as I come inside her, sucking her nipple into my mouth when she lifts her shirt. She pulls my hair, demands I bite her, whimpers when I kiss her marked skin. My legs nearly give out as I thrust into her one last time, pressing my face between her perfect tits.
“Beth,” I whisper, licking up to her neck, sucking her lip, savoring her sweet taste as it coats my mouth. “Beth.”
She smiles against me.
A loud bang comes from the other stall, resembling a fist connecting with something. “Reed, get the fuck out of here before I beat the shit out of you,” Ben growls.
I lower Beth to her feet, helping her get dressed.
“Sorry,” she whispers, stepping into her shorts.
I look down at her wild, sexed-up hair, the glow in her cheeks, and the light sheen of sweat pooling in the dip between her collar bones. My eyebrows pinch together as I tuck myself away and button my jeans.
“Don’t ever apologize for riding my dick like that. You just fucking owned me.”
Beth blushes even more, staring up at me through those dark, long lashes.
“Reed,” Ben warns, his anger tangible now.
“Ben, that was kinda hot though,” Mia whispers. “Feel.”
“Leaving. Wait a second before you feel.” I pull Beth out of the stall after she fixes her cut-up Ramones T-shirt. The collar has been widened, allowing it to hang off her shoulder and reveal more of her flushed skin.
“Room’s all yours,” I tell them, opening the door that leads to the hallway. I turn back when I remember Mia’s words before Luke and Tessa arrived. Beth halts with me. “Oh, what were you going to say to us earlier? Is everything all right?”
Ben mumbles something I can’t make out. Mia laughs quietly, shushing him.
“We just wanted to thank you guys for being there for us. That’s all. We love you both.”
“Yeah, now get the fuck out.”
Beth covers her mouth, laughing.
Leaving Ben and Mia moaning behind us, we head back down the dark hallway toward the dance floor. The girl’s bathroom door swings open and a woman runs out, her face pinched in disgust.
She hooks a thumb over her shoulder. “There’s two people in there having sex! I can’t pee when someone’s yelling ‘fuck me harder, Luke’ a foot away! Can you?”
The woman stares at Beth, then looks up at me, waiting for an answer. She throws her hands up in the air and stalks away when the two of us start laughing hysterically. Falling against each other. Tears in our eyes.
I’m so fucking glad we went out tonight.
Beth
THIS CAN’T BE REAL.
I’m going to wake up, and all of this will have been a dream.
Finding out about my aunt, moving to Alabama and getting away from Rocco, meeting Reed, falling for Reed, really falling for Reed. I’m too happy for this to be real. Happy doesn’t even seem like an appropriate description of what I’m feeling anymore. I’m completely blissed out. I wake up like this. I go to bed like this. I’m smiling so much I’m waiting for my skin to crack open. I know Reed sees it, what he does to me, how he makes me feel. I can’t hide my reaction to him. I don’t even care that it’s obvious. I want him to see it. I want him to see a lot of things.
I’ll never hurt you. Ever. Please see that.
Please.
Please, God, don’t let this be a dream.
I carry a large pot to the sink and ready it to be washed. Watching Reed help serve the homeless shouldn’t be a turn-on. It shouldn’t, but . . .
I think it’s the fact that he’s here, that he wanted to be here without me asking him to come that has me worked-up. Not the actual serving part. It could also be what he said to me before we walked inside Holy Cross an hour ago.
“If it means something to you, it means something to me.”
I have never wanted to launch myself at someone in a church parking lot before. Reed takes me there.
Turning the water on, I wait for it to fill the pot as my hand agitates the soap at the bottom. My eyes wander across the kitchen, where they have continuously wandered since I volunteered to start on the dishes.