As he pushed inside me and began thrusting, I clung to him. My head fell back against the pillow, but I moved with him. Our hips were joined. Every inch of us touched the other. We were fused together. This was what I had been missing for so long. This was our first time together, but it had been missing from my life.
He rose above me, over and over through the night, and I knew without a doubt that I was addicted to him. There was no going back.
Luke trailed kisses up my throat, poised over me, and I tilted my head up, enjoying the feel of his lips. Hearing my own groan, I laughed and peeked open one eye. He smirked down at me. He asked, “Enjoying yourself?”
Running my hands up his back, I applied pressure under my nails, letting them lightly scratch his back. He always loved this, and when his eyes closed again, I knew he was enjoying it again. He was distracted, so I scooted down in the bed, wound my legs around his waist, above his hip bones, and pushed myself up as I used my legs to pull him down at the same time. Our positions were reversed with me on top.
Luke’s eyes opened, and he ran a hand underneath my shirt. “That was nice and smooth.”
Straddling him, I sank down on him, rubbing myself over the front of his jeans. We had come home from school earlier. We were supposed to be writing songs for the band, but that turned into flirting, and eventually all pretenses were given up. We headed upstairs to Luke’s bedroom, and for the last hour we had been sharing kisses and much more. My hand fell down to his jeans. They’d been unbuttoned earlier, but that was the farthest we had gone.
“Bri.” Luke sucked in his breath, stilling under my hand.
Feeling brave, braver than normal, I bit down on my lip, and my hand slipped inside his jeans. His hands fell to my hips, and he gripped them hard. Feeling the power my touch had over him, I wanted to do more.
The sides of his mouth were strained, but he jerked it up into a smile, remaining still under my hand. One of his hands left my hip and cupped the side of my face. His thumb traced over my cheek softly, as he asked, “What are you doing?”
“I want to.” I looked down at where my hand was between us. I didn’t say anything more, and before Luke could question me again—he was always making sure I was okay—I shifted down on his lap. Feeling him through his boxers, my hand went inside. He was already hard, but at the touch of my finger, he sprang upward.
“Bri,” he whispered.
I looked up and saw his eyes were clouded. He was enjoying the touch of my hand, so I rubbed my finger up and down. His eyes closed. Slowly, he lay back down, and I wrapped my whole hand around him, just holding him for a while.
I was enjoying this power over him.
“Luke,” I started to say. I wanted to do even more.
“Bri?”
I shook my head. I was going to do this for him. Other girls had done this for their boyfriends. Luke wasn’t my boyfriend. We never gave ourselves a title, but he was mine. We were best friends. Everyone knew about our connection. I wanted to feel him in my mouth, but I was nervous. If I did this—and my mouth watered just thinking about it—maybe I could finally call him my boyfriend. He never asked me to be his. Neither did I. We just were, but I wanted to know. I wanted to call him my boyfriend and not just ‘my Luke,’ even though everyone already knew he was mine.
I slowly lowered my head closer to him. “Hey, hey.” Luke sat up, pulling away from me.
I looked up, confused. “What’s wrong?” The rejection hit me immediately. He didn’t want me to do that for him. He didn’t want me, repeated in my mind. Luke didn’t want me after all.
“Stop,” he said, lifting my head so I was looking him directly in the eye. It hurt. There was pity in his. I tried to look away, swallowing back the bile burning in my throat. I didn’t want him to feel sorry for me when he turned me down.
“Hey,” he said again. He caught my face and held me firmly.
I couldn’t look away, but I wanted to. His rejection hurt.
“This is not what you think.” He shook his head. His other hand went to my waist, and he lifted me off him. Holding me in the air for a moment, he scooted back and then placed me back on his lap. He was sitting upright, his back against the wall. When I tried to move away, he caught both sides of my face and turned me so we were nose to nose. He was looking into me now. I felt like he was stripping me bare, exposing how much I loved him, and deciding I wasn’t enough for him.
“Stop.”
I had yet to talk. The burning was too much. I shook my head instead.
“I love you.”
What? My eyes widened, and I stopped fighting. Had I heard that right?
The lines around his mouth softened, and he traced his fingers through my hair, smoothing my tendrils back and tucking them behind my ears. His fingers continued to rub down my jaw, falling to linger on my lips. He rubbed his thumb over them, and a rakish smirk appeared on his face. He said again, “Did you hear that? I know what you were going to do, and I want that. Holy shit, do I want that, but I wanted to tell you those words first.”
He loved me. Relief and joy pushed all the other emotions aside. I couldn’t talk again, though. The feelings were overwhelming.
“Do you?”
I laughed, my voice was raspy, and I nodded. Some tears fell from my eyes. Luke wiped them aside. “You do?”
“Yes,” I whispered.
He nodded, his gaze falling back to my lips. “My dad’s going to be home soon. I don’t want…” He trailed off as he indicated the bed.
He didn’t want it to be here, not when we could be interrupted.
I nodded in a jerking motion. “Okay.”
We heard the door open at that moment, followed by loud footsteps. The wood protested and creaked from under his father’s weight. Then his deep voice boomed a second later, “Luke?! You here?”
Luke shook his head. His hands fell to wrap around me, pulling me against his chest. His forehead lowered to rest on my shoulder, and I felt his lips brush against my neck as he said, “See? Perfect timing, huh?”
I didn’t care. His dad was an ass, but I didn’t give a damn right then. My hand cradled the back of his head, and my fingers tangled in his hair. “We can go to my place.”