“You feel that, little bird? I think you get I’m a big guy and this part of me matches the rest. You’re fucking tiny, and I don’t want to get carried away. As for not being a virgin, I don’t give a fuck about that. You know I’m not a choirboy, honey. You saw that when we got into the elevator. Had to deal with it, and I’m sorry.” His apology sounded genuine.
“As much as I would wish I had one, I don’t have a time machine to go back in time and erase either of our pasts. And honestly, I wouldn’t want to,” he kept talking.
“You wouldn’t?”
“Nope.” He swallowed hard, his gaze turning intense as he focused on me. For a beat, everything inside of me braced for whatever he might say next. “I don’t have to be first when all I’m striving to be is your last. Last first kiss you’ll have, the last man you sleep with. The only one who has you from here on out. And you’ll be the only one who has me in turn.”
“Jason.” I opened and shut my mouth. He wanted me to be his last first kiss! Holy shit. This couldn’t just be sweet nothings, right? I knew athletes were different, but this was somewhat crazy.
“Tell me,” he urged.
Something was happening.
I might have thought I was a simple itch he wanted to scratch, another notch on his belt, but this was different. It felt… big. Monumental and possibly life changing.
“A year and three months,” I whispered. He swallowed before suddenly, my feet were no longer touching the ground. He lifted me up, and my legs instinctually wrapped around his middle.
“Ask me again, little bird,” he demanded. Without overthinking, the words slipped out.
“Would you like to come in?” I breathed, and something flashed in his brown eyes.
Without missing a beat, Jason carried me right over the threshold into my dorm, shutting the door behind him with his booted foot.
“I’m the second door to the left,” I said, holding on to his face while doing everything I could to memorize every little detail. He carried me down the small hall from the apartment-style dorm and into my small private room. After shutting the door behind him, he slowly put me down on the floor, making sure my body felt just how hard he was for me.
“Jason.” I licked my lips and found myself with my back pressed against my bedroom door.
“I kiss you, there isn’t any turning around, Sadie.”
“Literally or figuratively?” The sassy comment slipped out, and he closed his eyes. I could see with how he pursed his lips that he was fighting from laughing out loud. When his eyes opened, though, and one of his hands dropped to cup the side of my face, I forgot what had been so funny.
“I haven’t even kissed you, and I feel like we’re already at the line of no return,” he admitted.
“Hmm…” I breathed. Weirdly enough, I agreed with him. I had always trusted my gut, and it was aligned with my heart for the first time, yelling at me to take a chance on the hot baseball player in front of me. “Then maybe you should just seal the deal,” I bravely said, for once asking for what I wanted.
His head dipped lower, and with a raspy, almost scratchy tone, he asked, “You sure, little bird? I kiss you, you’re stuck with me. Forever,” he said like a threat I took as a promise.
“Kiss me, Jason.” My voice might have sounded steady, but my body trembled with anticipation.
I’d had sex with a total of two guys. The first was my freshman year. It had been a blind date one of my friends in Kappa Sweets had set me up on. It was okay but nothing to write home about. The second guy, the last guy, I’d thought had been genuinely interested in me. Spent a whole semester flirting throughout late night study sessions, and we hooked up after finals. I’d thought it was the beginning of something. Too bad that was his thing—flirting for the thrill of the chase until he conquered it, and then he was done. I wouldn’t lie. It had bruised my ego a little, and maybe that’s why I hadn’t gone on any more dates since.
Neither of them was anywhere near the kind of guy Jason was. Not in looks or what I assumed, and would probably be right, experience. I knew, without a doubt, kissing him would feel unlike anything I’d ever experienced.
His head dipped and my eyes slowly fluttered shut. The soft warmth of his exhale brushed against my lips, and the moment his mouth touched mine, I knew I was right.
His lips were firm but tender.
Explorative.
My hands pressed against the soft material of the tee he was wearing. Not to push him away but to hold on. Once again, he picked me up, and I was so lost in the kiss, he could have taken me to a whole other building with how completely focused I was on his lips. Heat and need simmered, and before I knew it, the kiss that had started so sweet and almost innocent turned almost feral. Primal need washed through me, making me feel so empty and achy my hips started to grind down on his length. When we pulled apart, my eyes half open, I realized he was sitting on the edge of my bed with me straddling him like a cowgirl ready to go for a ride.
“Wow,” I whispered.
“Fucking knew it,” he cursed. I stilled, unsure for a second what that meant. “Best last first kiss, baby.” Something came over me at his words. This undeniable unforgiving need made my hips roll forward. The thick bulge of his dick pressed perfectly against my clit now that my skirt was rolled up my hips. There was no way what I was feeling, what I was dry-humping like a horny teenager without any kind of self-control, was actually real.
“That feels good, Jay,” I moaned, the dirty words slipping easily past my lips.
“Baby,” he groaned. His head dropped back, exposing his thick corded neck. My mouth watered at the sight and, without a second thought, I leaned forward and licked him. From collarbone to the end of his chin, the delicious scrape of his five-o’clock shadow against my tongue. He tasted good. Like man and salt and mine.
