He’s rocking into me steadily now. My sex is drenched and his hands are still wrapped around my waist. "I remember," he tells me. "Newman gave me shit about seeing you with another guy. The whole way back to campus, Pete kept saying we should go back. I told him I wasn’t making a fool of myself in front of you and Jake Fucking Thomassy. Pete said I didn’t have to. That he’d go in and get your attention. Make some excuse about needing your help in a class. It was dumb, but hell, Jos, so was I. By the time we got to our dorm, he had me convinced. We walked back to the diner, but you two were gone."
I nod. "Jake took me home."
Van’s eyes shutter closed and he stops moving. "I’m a damn hypocrite, but please don’t tell me what happened next."
There’s a thread of desperation woven into his words. I’ve felt it, too. Every time a group of girls dropped by our tutoring session or, even now when they ogle him and pay no attention to me, although I’m standing right next to him. If you’d peel back the layers of our relationship, the years between then and now, you’d find heartache, for sure. Teenage emotions. Problems that felt insurmountable at the time, but really, looking back, aren’t nearly as daunting or all-encompassing as they seemed. Weshould have talked. It comes down to that. But that’s not as simple as it sounds.
"Nothing happened between Jake and me. About five minutes after we sat down, I told him I had a headache and needed to go back to my dorm. He insisted on walking me there. I didn’t give him a kiss or a hug. I didn’t accept his offer of another date. I barely thanked him. And it wasn’t an awful date. It was fine. He was fine. He just wasn’t you.
"I got up to my room and took off my clothes. I didn’t shower or put on my pajamas. I just crawled into bed. I couldn’t get you off my mind. I kept picturing you and remembering…I was restless and I couldn’t sleep or relax, so I closed my eyes and let my hands wander over my body."
Van’s blue eyes are full of heat. "So when I was standing outside the diner, hating myself for not getting there sooner, you were in your bed thinking about me and touching yourself?"
"I was," I tell him honestly. There’s no need for shyness, not with Van. Not now.
He bites down on his lip and grinds his body against mine once more. "I’m either the luckiest bastard alive or I’m fucking cursed. Show me what you did, Jos," he says, lifting me just enough to tug his sweats down and toss them to the floor. He settles me back on his lap and props his legs up so his feet are on the mattress.
Leaning back on his thighs, I put my hand on my sex and trace my folds.
“Fuck, Josie, don’t stop.”
“You want me to?—”
Van’s voice is low and hungry when he cuts me off. “Do I want you to come all over your hand and then stroke my dick? Yeah, I do. Is that what you want, too?”
“Yes,” I answer, letting my eyes flutter closed as my mind wanders back to that night. I slide my hand a little deeper to ease the ache between my thighs.
“What if I’d have followed you back to the dorm, just to make sure you were okay?Jesus.Is this what I would’ve seen if I’d have been in your room that night?”
His words ignite something in me—something I didn’t even know was there. I know this is all a fantasy, that he’d never really follow me or stand in the shadows of my room. But the idea is forbidden and I like it. I tease myself by circling my clit before sliding two fingers inside myself. It’s no substitute for what Van’s touch does to me, but it makes me feel good all the same. I let my legs fall open as my fingers explore. I’m wet and ready for him, but if this were three years ago, I’d have to finish what I started all by myself.
“Were you quiet, Jos?” he asks, his voice a rough whisper. “Did you bite down on your pillow or hold back your moans so no one would know what you were up to?”
I shake my head. “I can’t be quiet. Not with you. Not even when I think about you.”
“Tell me, Jos. Take me there. I want to know what set you off. I want to know what images ran through your filthy, brilliant mind that made you come. I’m picturing it, too. Both of us in your room that night. Me with my back propped up against your wall. I can’t touch you, but fuck, I want to. I’m watching every move, memorizing it all so I can use it to make you feel good if I’m ever lucky enough to get my hands on your body again.”
His hands grip my hips, holding me in place while I let the fantasy take over. “I was picturing you on my bed, pressed up against me. It was your hand between my legs, touching and teasing. You were being lazy about it, like we had all the time in the world. Like I could have an orgasm from your hands or lips or dick anytime I wanted it.”
“Jesus. You can, Jos. All you want. Any way you want them.”
“That’s what I needed. I needed you.”
“You have me, Jos,” he says, his voice raw, desperate.
I open my eyes and the sight is erotic. My fingers glisten at my entrance and his cock strains just inches away. I reach for him and stroke his cock once, twice before he lifts my hips and enters me with one perfect thrust.
There’s no more talking. Our bodies move together like they were never apart. I press my chest to his and he meets my lips with a kiss. My pleasure is in his hands now and I surrender completely. He snakes his hand between us to play with my clit and the sensation is too much. I fall over the edge, my inner walls squeezing him tight. We mumble words and phrases, praise and need as we lose ourselves in each other.
My body is so full, so tight, so ready for everything he wants to give me. And Van doesn’t disappoint. He grinds his pelvis against mine, the friction teasing my oversensitive mound in the very best way. His eyes lock on mine as he enters me again and again.
“Gonna come, Jos. So hard. So fucking?—”
His words turn into shouts and the strength of his orgasm sets off another in me. No one else has ever made me feel half this good.
An hour later, we’ve showered and fallen asleep in his bed. Well, Van’s asleep. I’m getting there. My mind is processing the last few days, the last few hours, the fact that this beautiful, incredible man is all mine.
I used to wonder how we ever got together. Now I can't imagine us apart.
