She's Got It Bad

“No.”

He should have lied. Told her he and Sally were nuts about each other, that he’d just rolled out of her bed.

“Is that why you’re home early? Because things didn’t work out with Sally?”

She’d moved closer, within reach. He could see the pale oval of her face, smell the sweet honeysuckle smell of her favorite body lotion.

She’s fifteen, man. Fifteen, and the daughter of the people who took you in when no one else wanted you.

He needed to make her go inside, back to her own bedroom, back to her single bed and her walls covered with posters of heavy-metal bands and football teams.

“I don’t know why I came home,” he said.

She took another step closer. What little light there was glinted off her eyes.

“Kiss me,” she said. “Please.”

He clenched his hands into the denim of his jeans.

“You have to go inside.” His voice sounded low and too quiet. Unconvincing. Desperate.

She must have thought so, too, because she took a last step and closed the distance between them. He could feel the warmth of her body, the brush of her small, firm breasts against his chest, the whisper of her breath on his neck.

“I can’t stand it anymore, Liam. Sitting opposite you at breakfast and dinner, seeing you at school, at home. I can’t stop thinking about you. Please kiss me.”

Every muscle in his body tensed as she slid her arms around his waist. She pressed her body against his, her hands clutching at his back. She lifted her head, and her hair skimmed his chin as she pressed tentative kisses onto his collarbone and neck. One, two, three, her mouth soft and moist.

He was already hard. Had been since the moment he caught the scent of honeysuckle. She pressed her hips against his and the pressure made him groan.

“No,” he said, reaching for her shoulders to push her away.

But somehow he was sliding his hands into her hair instead, holding her head and tilting her face toward him. Then he was kissing her, his tongue in her mouth, her taste surrounding him.

She’d never been kissed before. He knew because she’d told him two months ago. He’d been thinking about being her first ever since. He wanted to make his mark on her, make it perfect.

He stroked her tongue with his and traced her lower lip before sucking it into his mouth. She made a small sobbing sound and angled her head to give him more access. She tasted so sweet, so clean and sweet.

He slid a hand down her back to cup her backside, holding her against himself as he flexed his hips forward, feeling her mound against his erection.

He was so hard. Man, he wanted…He wanted so much he was afraid he was about to lose it.

Her hands were tugging at the bottom of his T-shirt.

“Take this off. I want to touch you,” she said.

She yanked the T-shirt up and he released his grip on her long enough for her to pull it over his head. Then her hands were on him, touching, smoothing, teasing, discovering.

He couldn’t think. Didn’t want to. As her fingers found his nipples, he broke their kiss long enough to pull his keys from his pocket. His hand was shaking so much it was a miracle he got the key in the lock. Then he was kissing her again and backing her up the few stairs and inside the studio toward his bed.

She stopped when the backs of her knees hit the mattress.

“Wait,” she said, and he heard the rustle of clothing and knew she’d tugged off her own T-shirt.

He swore under his breath. She never wore a bra, even though her mom hassled her about it. He’d wanted to touch her, hold her for so long now. Wanted to know what color her nipples were, if they were as sweet and plump as they looked through the fabric of her T-shirts.

“Zoe, I have to see you.”

He flicked the bedside lamp on and she blinked in the sudden light. Her hands came up to cover herself. He reached for them and slowly tugged them away, holding her arms out from her sides.

He sucked in a breath when he saw her, so pink and firm. Her nipples were like little berries, hard already even though he hadn’t touched them yet.

“Zoe,” he said, reaching for her.

She shuddered as he slid his hands up her torso. She felt like warm silk, so smooth and perfect. His palms covered her breasts, his thumbs finding her nipples. She bit her lip as he teased them.

“That feels so good,” she whispered, her eyes half-closed.

She looked beautiful standing there in nothing but her jeans and bare feet, her long dark hair spilling down her back, her cheeks and chest flushed. He ducked his head and kissed her again, his hands teasing all the while. She started to press her pelvis forward and he could feel her heart pounding. He ducked his head and kissed his way down her neck to her chest until he was pulling one hard little nipple into his mouth.

“Oh,” she said. Her body jerked in his arms. Her hands found his head, her fingers burrowing into his hair as she held him at her breast, her breath coming in sharp pants. “So good, Liam, so good,” she whispered over and over.

He pushed her back onto the bed and they fell together. He relished the feel of her beneath him, loving the way she instinctively opened her thighs so that he could press his hardness against the hot heart of her.

They kissed and grabbed at each other for long minutes, hips grinding together through two layers of denim, the friction exquisite but not nearly enough.

He slid a hand over her mound and found the thick seam where her jeans joined at the crotch. He pressed firmly, feeling how hot and steamy she was. Her hands grabbed at his shoulders and her hips lifted.

“Liam,” she said. “Yes.”

He rubbed her some more, and she circled her hips, her eyes closed as she gave herself over to the moment.

He wanted inside her so bad. He slid a hand to the waistband of her jeans, slipped his fingers beneath the fabric. She caught her breath and he felt her belly tense beneath his hand. Then she was widening her legs, encouraging him to keep going. He slid his hand farther, into her soft curls. She stilled as he sent a single finger probing lower.

Man, she was so wet. Hot and slippery and wet. He pressed his hard-on against her thigh as his finger slid between her folds.

“Liam!” she said. “That is…That is unbelievable!”

He grinned at the shocked expression on her face then watched her closely as he slicked a finger over the hard little button hidden between her folds. She shuddered, her breasts rising dramatically as she pulled in a lungful of air.

“Don’t stop,” she begged. “Whatever you’re doing, don’t stop.”

He lowered his head and took a nipple into his mouth, his finger sliding over and over her, delving deeper, lower with each rotation until, finally, he was at her hot entrance and she was tilting her hips in wordless invitation.

He sucked hard on her nipple as he slid his finger inside her. Slick, hot muscle closed around him, so tight and wet he groaned.

“Take your jeans off. I want to see you. I want to touch you,” Zoe panted.

She drove her fingers into his hair and dragged his head up from her breasts so he was forced to look her in the eye.