Arranged Page 11
“Is it?” His voice sounds hurt, and his arm around my waist loosens.
“I didn’t mean it like that.” I pull out of his arms to put the cookies in the oven. I set my phone’s timer and look up. Lee’s staring at me, golden eyes hard like amber. Waiting for me to give an explanation. “It’s just…weird. This. I’ve never done the boyfriend thing before. You know that, right?”
“I do now.” He smirks.
“It’s hard for me. I don’t know where a boyfriend goes in the puzzle of my life. So I have to make room.”
“Well if it’s a chore –”
“It’s not! I didn’t mean for it to sound like that!”
“You’re the worst at explaining yourself.”
I frown. Lee comes up behind me again and nestles his head in my shoulder.
“But that’s okay. You can’t be beautiful and incredibly smart and kind and nice-smelling and also be good at explaining yourself. It’s okay to suck at some things.”
“Like boys,” I sigh.
“Like boys,” He laughs and nuzzles my neck. “God you smell nice. Have I said that?”
“All girls smell nice.” I blush.
“No, you smell the best, definitely.” He inhales. “Like vanilla and sleep.”
“Whenever you’re done with your creepy sniffing moment.” I try to move, but he holds me closer to him. Against him. I can feel the heat of his chest against my back. His hand snakes around and rests on my stomach, which starts to burn. It’s not an unpleasant burn – like too-hot coffee rather than fire. I’m nervous.
“I-I’m not good at this,” I say as the hand on my stomach travels lower.
“At what?” He murmurs.
“This. Stuff like this. I –”
“It’s okay.” I can feel him smiling into my hair. “I’m pretty decent, if I can brag.” I squirm as he fiddles with my jeans and undoes the button. “How long will the cookies take?”
“Ten minutes.”
“Perfect. You have three options. You can tell me to stop – ”
“No,” I say a little too quickly. He sighs good-naturedly and continues.
“We can do this here, in the kitchen –”
My face is so hot I could probably bake the cookies on it now.
“ – Or we can go to my room and get comfortable.”
“A good chef never leaves the kitchen while they’re cooking.”
“Then it’s settled.” Lee unzips my jeans the rest of the way, fingers dancing over the fabric of my underwear. “We’ll stay in the kitchen.”
His touch is so light I barely feel it. He runs his fingers up and down, tracing light circles on the cotton and pressing hard in some spots. The burning in my stomach moves to pool lower just as he hooks his finger in the band of my panties and slides them down. My shudder turns into a gasp as his fingers run down my slit. He hits a sensitive spot and draws lazy circles around it, snickering.
“Not nearly wet enough. I guess I’ll do the honors.”
He turns my head and kisses me over my shoulder, tongue winding against mine. He breaks it off and licks his fingers, golden eyes never leaving mine as he slides his hand back down and spreads the wetness into my folds. My face is on fire. I try to rub my thighs together to ease the ache between them, but Lee forces them apart with his hand and growls.
“No.”
“Lee –”
“Save your breath,” He murmurs. “You’ll need it.”
At the same time, his fingers pierce into me and I make a sound I’m sure isn’t human. He slides out and presses deeper, again and again. I grip the counter and bite back a moan but it’s hopeless to try when his other hand snakes down and grinds against the sensitive spot he was drawing circles around earlier. Soft, wet noises echo, and a slickness leaks down my thighs. Is that from me? Did I make that? Lee leans me forward and I brace against the counter for balance as he buries his face in my neck, dropping little kisses from my ears down to my shoulder blades and back up again. His wrist’s pace is infuriatingly slow – rhythmic and agonizing. I want more. I want –
“Faster,” I whisper.
“What was that?”
“Fast –” I blush and cut myself off with another moan.
“Can’t understand you.” Lee’s voice is singsong and way too happy. “You have to speak louder.”
“Faster.”
He pulls completely out. “I can’t hear you.”
“Faster!” I snap, rolling my hips, searching for his warm fingers. “Do it faster!”
“Do what? What exactly am I doing?”
I can practically hear the smirk in his voice. He wants me to say it out loud. I squeeze my eyes shut.
“F-Finger…fucking.”
“You –”
“Fuck me faster!” I cut him off. It rings in the kitchen but I have no time to regret the words. The cookie timer chooses that exact moment to go off and I groan. Lee chuckles, pulls his hands out of my pants, and walks down the hall.
“I’ll be in my room when you’re done playing with your cookies.”
I snarl under my breath and wrench the cookies out, throwing them on the counter to cool. I don’t even stop to button my jeans as I stomp down the hall and into his room. He lies on the bed, shirt hiked up and pants hiked down, showing off a glorious stretch of amber skin and sinewy stomach muscles.
“I hate cookies.” I frown. He laughs and pats his lap. I wiggle entirely out of my jeans. “I’m not good at stripping.”
“Neither am I.”
I throw my jacket at his head to make his smirk go away. While he struggles to get it off I strip down to my panties and bra. His eyes widen, and the smirk falls.
“You –”
“I went shopping,” I say quickly. The black lacy underwear and matching bra looked stupid on me, but Jen insisted they were great. Do they make me look weird? Or worse, fat? “I know they look dumb on me, but I didn’t want you to –”
He cuts me off by grabbing my wrist and pulling me onto the bed. He hovers over me on his elbows, eyes taking in every inch of my skin.
“You’re beautiful.” He leans down and kisses me. It’s heated and desperate and blinds me to the fact his hands snake around and undo my bra and pull down my panties. Fingers glance inside my thigh, tracing the wetness.
“Things are much better down here, now.”
“Shut up,” I snap, flushing. I kick away my underwear and help him pull his shirt over his head. The soft and hard lines of his stomach contrasts in the dim light, and it suddenly hits me. This is real. I’m really going to sleep with Lee.
“What’s wrong?” He furrows his brow. I shake my head and push dark hair out of his eyes.
“Nothing. I’m just –”
“Scared?”
I nod. He rests his forehead on mine.
“I am, too.”
“But you’ve done this a lot!” I protest.
“Not with anyone I’ve cared about as much as you.”
My blush comes back full force. Lee looks down and chuckles, hands glancing over my breasts.
“Your blush goes all the way down to your chest, huh?”
I squirm as he leans in and kisses the flushed skin, moving up my collarbone and to my throat. I fumble with his fly to take my mind off the tickling sensation his kisses wreck on my neck. He helps me, pulling his jeans off. I shake off his help with the boxers, though. I take a deep breath and pull them down quickly. He hisses as his erection bounces free of the fabric. It’s bigger than I thought it’d be.
“Did,” I lower my voice. “Did I do that to you?”
He laughs in my ear and nibbles on it. “You’ve been doing it for weeks, stupid. Months. Years. But only in the last few weeks did I have your face to imagine while I took care of it.”
“Just my face?” I tease.
“Maybe a little more.”
“Protection!” I bolt upright so fast I almost knock heads with him. “Oh crap, we can’t –”
“Relax.
” He reaches under the pillow behind me and brings out a condom wrapper.
“You aren’t infested with cooties or anything, right? Because I can still get crap from you even with that. I read it in a book.”
He laughs. “You studied? Figures. But you’re right to be worried. I’m not. I’m clean. I promise.”
“I trust you,” I say it like a warning. His laugh gets soft and he leans into kiss me.
“I know.”
“And,” I break the kiss. “I don’t know how to put that thing on, so you have to.”
“Fair enough.” He unwraps the condom and I watch with great curiosity as he rolls it on. He shoots me a smirk.
“That eager, huh?”
“No!” I stick my tongue out. “I’m just taking notes. For later.”
“You can take the nerd out of college, but not college out of the nerd,” He sighs.
“People who use the word nerd are stupid,” I retort.
“I agree.” He presses me back into the pillows, kissing my neck with renewed ferocity.
“B-But I’m not stupid,” I say.
“No, you definitely aren’t,” He mumbles into my skin.
“But you are. Sometimes.”
Lee looks up, golden eyes smoldering with half-amusement, half-exasperation. “You’re babbling.”
“I’m nervous. I mean, not really nervous, but –”
He cuts me off with a kiss, hands wandering over my skin, behind my back and neck. He nudges my legs apart and slides those infuriating fingers inside, and the pooling heat floods me with a vengeance. The finger leaves and something bigger prods at my entrance, the tip stretching me open. My eyes go wide and I dig my nails into Lee’s back. His hand dances on that sensitive circle between my legs so well I’m blinded by the new pleasure – blinded, but not unfeeling to the sensation of being slid into and filled to the brim. His hand slows, lazily circling as his mouth explores beneath my ear.
“Jesus.” He sucks in a breath. “You’re tight.”
“Is that…Is that good?” My heart beats like a bee’s wing, fast but sweet, and my inhales are shallow. I’m stretched open and burning, but I bite my lip and bear it. Lee kisses my neck, sucking hard, like giving me hickies is the only way he can keep it together. Bits and pieces of Jen’s advice floats through my brain. I can’t remember anything clearly, except one thing. I clench my lower muscles as hard as I can. Lee’s hickie turns into a surprised bite, and he comes up for air quickly.
“Don’t! Shit, Rose. Don’t. If you do that…if you keep doing that, this isn’t going to last very long.”
“Sorry,” I laugh breathlessly.
“Just stay still,” He pants. “For a few seconds.”
Lee moves, slowly. He barely pulls out and leads in again, his hand kneading between us. With every press of his fingers on my clit, he thrusts and adds more pressure. He’s serious, watching my face as pleasure shoots across it.
“I’m okay. It doesn’t hurt anymore.” Hot sparks flood me and recede like ocean waves. I lock my legs behind his back and wrap my arms around his neck. “F-Faster.”
No smart-ass comments about my request, this time. He locks eyes with me, smirking like he knows the joke he could make again. But this time he’s trapped by pleasure, too. He has no patience for games. His thrusts become faster, deeper, moves his hips to get different angles and I arch my back with his rhythm. The bed gives little groans that match my soft moans. Lee is quiet, but I can see the concentration in his expression.
His eyes soften and he buries his face in the crook of my neck, my words a signal for his thrusts to become desperately hard and deeper than ever. That wet, slick noise starts again, and a hot blush spreads all over me - inside me - when I realize it’s the sound of him fucking me. His hand not occupied runs through my hair, over my breasts, and finally settles in mine, lacing our fingers together. A thin sheen of sweat coats his skin, and makes it shine golden in the light.
I don’t know what he does, but I shatter first – panting his name and writhing my hips in a desperate attempt to feel more, trying to grind the explosion of white-hot nerve fire out for as long as I can. My legs tremble, my entire body glowing with heat and pleasured shivers as I hear myself begging for him to fuck me. Lee groans, biting my neck as his thrusts become hard and slow. I do the muscle thing again, and he groans a swear mixed with my name. We go still, gasping for air to even our breathing, but he doesn’t pull out or roll off.
He pants. “I can feel your heartbeat.”
“We are kind of close,” I laugh. He presses his forehead to mine.
“No, inside. I can feel your heartbeat through your insides. Shit, is that too creepy? Forget I said it. Sounded way more romantic in my head.”
I laugh again and lean up to kiss him, tenderly at first, but Lee starts moving again and it only takes a minute this time before the molten pleasure shoots through me and I’m moaning into his mouth.
Those are the first two.
There are four more.
~~~
We spend the weekend in bed. And when Lee isn’t making me twist and pant in inhuman ways, we make food. Well, Lee makes food. Shirtless. I just sort of sit and watch him work with the knives and the way the light plays on his shoulders. Sometimes I tease him, trying to break the cooking concentration by blowing in his ear or tracing his spine. He gets sick of it and tackles me into the couch, and it’s all making out and tangled limbs from there. Sometimes, I wake to find him tracing my skin, my lips, all the while staring thoughtfully at my moles and scars. Sometimes showering is an excuse to have sex that smells like soap, but sometimes it’s just Lee leaning his head on my chest and letting me wash his hair like a child. We go down to the corner store, barely dressed in anything resembling real clothes, and buy wines neither of us knows anything about. I have no work this week. I skip most of my classes except for tests, making the excuse to myself that I’m way ahead in the homework. The envelope Grace left for me has five hundred dollars in it – modeling money. I didn’t expect to get anything from it, so the amount makes my eyes bug a little. Lee brings out the magazine and teases me about the spread, and I smack him playfully. I comment that I haven’t seen his fabled sleepwalking. He smiles and says it only happens when he’s stressed, or sad, and my heart lifts at the realization I’m the reason he isn’t stressed or sad.
On Monday, Lee skips a swim practice to stay with me.
He watches me, sprawled out in bed, the white sheet hiding nothing – I can see his bronze skin shining just beneath it, dark and shifting like a shadow under water. I sit on the end of the bed, between his feet. He raises a dark brow.
“Normal people sleep up here.” He hits the empty pillow for emphasis. I smile and pull the sheets up, off his feet.
“Jesus, it’s cold, Rose! Put it down.”
“Okay.” I duck my head under, sliding my body between his legs and letting the sheet go. It piles over my head and I must look like a kiddish halloween ghost, because Lee barks a laugh.
“What are you doing?”
“Diving for treasure,” I singsong. Under here I can smell his sharp aftershave so well. In the dim lamplight it’s a little hard to see, but my hands find his thighs quickly, and from there, the source of the heat between them. It’s not limp, but it’s not hard, more an in-between. I grasp the base of it and slide my fingers up slowly.
“Rose -!” Lee breathes.
“Found it,” I murmur happily. I stroke faster and hover just above, waiting until it becomes as hard in my palm as it does between my thighs.
“Rose, h-have you ever…done this?” Lee’s voice cracks – in anxiety? Or eagerness?
“Just trust me,” I coo. The closer I bring my mouth to the quivering tip, the stronger the smell of his musk assaults me – faint soap and sweat and some nameless spice that is all Lee. The skin of it is so soft, but drawn tight, and the head is the softest part of all. I breathe on it, first cool air, and then warm air, and then cool air again, and Lee’s
hips give a delightful twitch and the half-swear, half-panting sound he makes sends pure lightning up my spine. He can’t see me under the sheet, so I try to compensate by providing a nice view – curling my spine and rounding my ass like I’m waiting for someone to mount me from behind.
“I’m –”
Before he can get another fevered word out, I lick him from base to tip and back down again. He groans and his hips buck and he unwittingly (or wittingly) sheathes himself in my mouth, scraping ever-so-lightly past my teeth. My tongue pillows him, wraps around and tries to circle him entirely but it’s impossible; my tongue’s too short and he’s too big. When his hips slacken from the sudden flood of sensations, I take the moment and try to remember what Kory told me – breathe through my nose, slowly and deeply. I slide my mouth up, and down, one hand grasping the base and the other pinning his twitching left hip. If I let him go crazy this’ll be over too soon. His breathing comes in short, ragged bursts, and I feel his hands fist the bedsheets as he gets closer. I let him go from my mouth with a wet pop and slink up his chest, lifting the sheet to see his face. His cheekbones are splashed with red, entire face twisted with half-ecstasy and half-confusion.
“Why did you stop?”
“I wanted to see your face.” I lay my head on his chest and look up at him with the biggest, most innocent gaze I can muster. “I didn’t know if I was doing it right so I had to check.”
“B-Bullshit, you know full well you’re doing it right,” He chuckles, chest heaving. I sink under the sheet and he’s in my mouth again, hard and hot as ever. It’s wet and a little messy around my lips. I try to keep it dry and neat but he loses total control, hips breaking free of my hand and thrusting, touching the back of my throat. I nearly gag but focus on my breathing and suddenly I can feel him pulsing, his heartbeat in my throat and a flood of something warm and slippery pooling in my mouth. Kory said I should show him. They like that. I pull Lee out, crawl up his chest, and lift the sheet. His brow is faintly shining with sweat and his golden eyes are filled with a deep content. I open my mouth, and when he sees what’s inside his gaze become darker, and he grips my chin, forces my mouth shut, and locks eyes with me.