“Jennie. Tell me, or I stop.”
“Krissy was being rude for no reason other than that she likes to exert her superiority over me just so she can hurt my feelings,” I blurt, tossing my head back with a moan as that magical wand hits my favorite spot, harder this time.
“Who’s Krissy?”
I tear at the sheet as Garrett plunges faster. “Another dancer. All the girls got together last weekend and she said…she forgot to…invite-me-oh-my-fucking-God, yes, please.” His thumb matches the tempo of the dildo thrusting inside me, making me whimper. “I don’t know why they don’t like me.”
“Fuck ’em. You don’t need them. You’ve got me. I like you.”
Garrett’s mouth trails up my thighs, trading between gentle nips and the wicked lash of his tongue, all while never giving up on the pumping, the delirious way he fucks me that makes me want to scream for more. Part of me wants to give it all up, and I’m talking about more than my body.
I can’t, though, so I’ll tuck it away like I always do. I’m so used to giving up only pieces of myself, I don’t even know how to be whole with someone anymore.
“Anything else?” Garrett asks, tongue swirling around my belly button. He takes the purple gem between his teeth, giving it a little tug, and the simple action tows me closer to that cliff. I’m about to throw myself off it, watching as he lowers his face. “Go on, sunshine.” He flicks his tongue over that tight bud of nerves, teasing me. “Answer the question.”
“I-I-I—” I shake my head, clapping my hands over my face. What’s happened to me? What has he done to me in only a matter of weeks? I’m losing my mind, and instead of caring, I fist his hair, holding him in place as he laps and laves, and I spill my guts about the job offer, the potential new life that waits in Toronto after graduation.
Garrett’s tongue stops its lashing, and he slowly removes the toy. He lays his cheek on the inside of my thigh, pouting up at me.
“Why are you looking at me like that? And more importantly—” I gesture at my crotch, “—why are you not finishing dessert? I’m not above sitting on your face and making you.”
Garrett chuckles. “You can sit on my face any day, sunshine.” Slowly, he sinks the wand, smiling at my throaty groan. “I’m looking at you like this because you just put a time limit on the best fun I’ve ever had.”
I rock into his hand, silently asking for more, but he doesn’t relent. “The best fun? You aren’t even getting laid.”
“Don’t really give a fuck.”
“I don’t know if I want to go,” I admit.
His brows tug down. “Why not?”
“I’m not sure it’s, oooh, the future I want for my-my-myself.” I throw my head back as a mangled sound leaves my throat, part irritation, part pleasure. “Garrett, please.”
“We’ll talk about this later.” His gaze holds mine, playful, teasing, as he licks a leisurely path up my slit. “Now I’m gonna finish fucking you.” He promptly impales me with the dildo, his grin self-righteous and pleased when I cry out his name.
Garrett’s mouth suctions over my clit as he thrusts in and out, faster, harder, hitting that spot every time until I’m nothing but a whimpering, quaking mess, begging to come. He grips my throat, gliding up my body, the touch of his gaze possessive and feral. A pleasure so fierce unfurls in my belly as he brings me higher than I’ve ever been before.
“I fucking love watching you come, and I fucking love being the one to get you there.” His mouth takes mine in a searing, plunging kiss that leaves me breathless. He rests his forehead against mine, watching me unravel. “Come for me, sunshine,” he demands, and I do, nails shredding his shoulders as I cling to him, and he swallows his name as it leaves my mouth, over and over.
The pads of his fingers press deeper into my throat as he forces me to meet his gaze.
“You see how you could still talk through that? That won’t happen when it’s my cock inside you.”
“You gonna tell me why you don’t wanna take your dream job in Toronto?” Garrett’s hand closes around mine, bringing my spoon to his mouth, and I frown as he swallows my Corn Pops. He’s already had two bowls.
“Why does everyone keep saying it’s my dream job?”
“Isn’t it?”
“Yes. No. I don’t know.” At the look on his face, I laugh. When he reaches for my spoon again, I shove it in my mouth. “I wanted to dance, and I wanted to teach it. It’s just…” I lift a shoulder. “My mind changes all the time. I spent my childhood dreaming of being a ballerina, dancing in The Nutcracker in New York. But then I grew up, and all my ballet dreams flew out the window.”
“So you don’t want to teach anymore?”
“I don’t know. I loved ballet, and it served its purpose in my life. It fueled my love of dance. But it’s not me. How do I teach something I’m not passionate about anymore? My passion lies elsewhere.”
“Contemporary?” Garrett asks, draining the milk from my bowl once I scoop out the last of my cereal.
I lean my elbows on the counter, drop my chin to one hand and twirl my hair with the other. “Can I tell you something I’ve never told anyone before?”
“’Course.”
“I…I want to open my own studio. For kids. I want to teach kids to express themselves, to have fun. I want them to love dance as much as I did, as I still do. I don’t want to be that strict dance teacher, the one that makes you second-guess every piece of food you put in your mouth, that tells you your life doesn’t exist outside of dance. There has to be a healthy balance between loving something passionately and letting it be a part of your life, but not the whole thing. And honestly? I already miss my dad; I don’t want to put myself in a position where I’m forced to miss the rest of my family.”
Garrett stares at me for a long moment that makes my skin crawl with apprehension, luring me back into that cave I should’ve never crept out of. It’s when he grins, taking my face in his hands and pressing a loud, sloppy kiss to my mouth, that my shoulders sag.
And I creep a little further from the shadows I’ve been so content to hide in.
“I think it’s great you’re able to be honest with yourself. That you acknowledge what you want and what no longer serves you, or when you aren’t exactly sure what your next step is. I also think it’s awesome you can look back on your dance career and recognize what didn’t work and what you don’t want to repeat one day when you’re the teacher. I’m really proud to be your friend, Jennie.”
My nose wrinkles as I drop my gaze to my feet, swinging from my stool. “Thanks, Garrett.”
He takes my hand, pulling me down. “Let’s go watch TV in bed. I’ll tickle your back.”
“Are you sure? You’ve got morning skate in seven hours.”
He twirls me into him, his mouth drowning my words. “Don’t care.” He smacks my ass. “Get in there.”
Tonight has been exactly what I needed to forget about my shit day. I have Garrett, and he makes me smile. I feel light again, and the disastrous bed makes me happy. One of us—Garrett says it was me—tore the sheet off the bed during orgasm number…four? Five? Five.
Okay, it was me. Sue me.
I find my dildo in the rumpled blankets and tote it to the bathroom for a good cleaning. She kicked ass tonight.
“Thanks for tonight, girl. You felt amazing.” I hug her to my chest and tuck her away. I turn to the now-made bed where Garrett’s lying, hands behind his head, ankles crossed, brow arched high on his forehead. “What?”
“Should I point out the obvious?”
I climb on top of him, straddling his hips. “What’s that?”