OBSESSED Series

Chapter 15

We swoop toward one another’s mouths, some unspoken push from fate making us collide. He works his tongue into my mouth, stroking me hungrily, the steering wheel digging into my side. Gage takes my hand and shoves it up beneath his shirt, groaning into my mouth when I begin to trace his muscles, his nipples, the unbelievable brawn of him. And if I keep at this, we’re never going to crack open a textbook. I have a responsibility to Gage, to the school…and on some level, his father, to make sure he passes that test. I can’t wait.

With a gasp, I break away, evading him when he comes after me for another wild kiss. “I’ll meet you on the beach,” I blurt, throwing myself off his lap and out of the car. I open the rear cab of the truck and retrieve my textbook and notes, heading for my usual spot in the cove. A moment later, Gage follows behind me with a blanket and a predatory expression on his face that tells me this is going to be a study session like no other.

Of all the atrocious shit I’ve done since my father died—vandalizing cars, getting into drunken brawls—the thoughts I’m having right now are by far the worst.

I stand above Stella while she spreads the blanket out on the sand. Her skirt is in tatters in my car, so she’s wearing nothing but panties and a button-down shirt. And not a single one of the buttons are fastened, thanks to some work from my deft fingers back in the truck. So she’s on her knees, arranging the blanket and her tits are dangling there like forbidden fruit. My dick is stiffer than sin in my briefs, there is no one around for miles and I can’t help it. I can’t help but think about how easily I could make her mine right now.

I wouldn’t have to use force. She’s addicted to skin on skin contact with me. It makes her hot. A few minutes of making out with our shirts off and she’d be screaming for me to put it in. I’m a bastard. I’m a terrible man for considering it. One flick up my wrist and she’d be on her back. She might try and push me off, briefly, but she’s too horny to fight me for long. She’d let me kiss her. I’d hump her through those threadbare panties and she’d start to crave the real thing. The way I do.

No, crave isn’t the right word for how badly I want Stella.

I’m being eaten alive.

She stretches out to smooth a corner of the blanket and the shirt rides up to the small of her back, displaying her ass. Those two tight buns that I’d crawl across a thousand miles of broken glass to sink my teeth into. I’m used to getting what I want, when I want it. And I’ve never wanted anything more than her heart, her body, her commitment to me. Never. Nothing else even comes close. So the waiting, the torture, is something of an honor. The lust burns, but I fucking love it. It belongs to Stella. It’s for her, so it’s right.

I’m the man who gets to be with her. That’s worth the pain.

But that doesn’t mean I’m a saint.

I have to find a way to get some relief. Something. Anything. Or I’m worried I won’t make it through the next two days without impressing my will upon her. And that would disrespect her thoughtfulness, her determination to make me a better man and football player. Can’t do that to my future wife. I won’t. I can be the good man she thinks I am.

Can’t I?

I swallow the rock in my throat and close my eyes, breathing deep. Don’t think about how tight her pussy is going to be. Yeah right. Every other thought in my head consists of exactly that. How she’ll stretch and clench and whimper and claw.

Relief. I need it. Some measure of it. Somehow.

Already disgusted with myself, I whip off my shirt and toss it into the sand, kneeling down beside Stella on the blanket. She’s in the process of finding the right page of her notes, so it takes her a moment to look up. But when she does, her double-take almost makes me laugh. Or groan. Or both. Her balance wanes and she starts to pitch sideways, so I reach out and steady her. “You all right, Stella?”