“Whatever you want.”
Quaking with excitement, I guide Chelsea onto to her side on the bed and resume kissing her, this time while running my hand up and down her back.
“I’ve never done this before,” Chelsea murmurs into my lips. “Go super slow, okay?”
My breathing halts. I don’t know what she meant by “this.” Did she mean kissing or wherever she thinks this is heading? Either way, I feel honored to be her first for anything and everything she wants to do. I nuzzle my nose against hers and look into her big blue eyes. “We’ll go as slow as you want, and we’ll stop whenever you want.”
Chelsea exhales and nods. “Just go ridiculously slow, in terms of where you put your hands and stuff like that, so I can process each new thing before you do something else.” She lets out a shaky breath and whispers, “This is really exciting for me. I might squeak or squeal. Sorry if that’s weird.”
My smile is even bigger than my boner. And that’s saying a lot. “Not weird at all. I might get kinda noisy myself. This is pretty exciting for me, too.”
Chelsea gasps. “You’ve never done this before, either?”
I bite back a smile. “I just mean it’s exciting to get to do it with you.”
She smirks in a way that makes it clear she thinks I’ve justserved up a line. Like she thinks I say that same thing to every girl I get with, even though I don’t. But hey, since she seems excited to keep going and our time together is extremely limited, I lean in and press my mouth to hers without further comment. I’d prefer for this girl to walk away from tonight thinking of me as boyfriend material. Maybe even the one that got away, due to our circumstances. But I guess, given the situation, I’ll settle for her thinking she got seduced by the world’s most effective fuckboy.
“Can I touch your ass?” I ask breathlessly, after our kissing has been hot and heavy for a while.
“Over my sweats,” she gasps out. And a moment later, we’re both desperately gripping, grabbing, and groping each other while continuing to kiss passionately.
Man, I’ve never felt this kind of chemistry with anyone. Talking to Chelsea is electrifying. Kissing her is a rush. Just being in her presence makes me feel high as a kite. By now, I’m desperate to grind my hard dick against her and feel the full length of her body pressed against mine.
“Can I lie on top of you while we kiss?”
“Yes,” Chelsea rasps out without hesitation, followed by her rolling onto her back and nonverbally pulling me on top of her. Even better, when I get into position, she immediately wraps her thighs around me and pulls me in for another voracious kiss.
For a long while, I lose track of time. All I know is I feel drugged by my attraction to her, as we dry hump, grind, and kiss with abandon. Our make-out session is so hot, in fact, I think I’m getting perilously close to coming in my pants.
“Has anyone ever made you come before, Chelsea?” I choke out when I’m on the brink of losing it. I’m pretty sure I know the answer to that. And if I’m right, I’d give my left nut to be the first person to do it.
Chelsea shakes her head, sending a wave of arousal crashing into me.
“Can I try to get you there?” I place a palm on her sweaty cheek. “I can do it with my fingers with your clothes on, or I can do it with my mouth, if you’re okay with getting undressed.”
She stiffens underneath me, and I know, instantly, I’ve made a fatal error. Scared her off. Gone too fast. Broken the spell.
“Or we can forget I said that and keep going exactly like this.”
It’s too late. I’ve clearly freaked her out by pushing too hard. “I’m sorry,” I blurt. “Let’s pretend I didn’t say that, okay?”
Chelsea exhales and mutters something under her breath—something I can’t make out, other than I think it ended with the word “Montague.”
“As inRomeo and Juliet?” I ask, feeling deeply confused. Did I hear that right? If so, does that mean she thinks I’m a lover-boy/Romeo type? As in a flighty fuckboy player who burns through women and runs hot and cold? I mean, I kinda am all of that, but that doesn’t mean I’ll say anything to get laid. Especially with this girl, every word out of my mouth has been one thousand percent sincere.
With a sigh, Chelsea pushes against me gently, and I dutifully roll off her. Apparently, our amazing make-out session is now officially over.
“I should get some sleep,” she whispers. “Insufficient sleep leads to a decreased attention span, impaired concentration, reduced decision-making abilities, and difficulties with problem-solving.”
“Yeah, sleep is important.” I’m beside myself at my mistake. “Hey, listen, I’m really sorry I pushed so hard on the physical stuff, Chelsea. You told me you needed to take things super slow, and I stupidly—”
“No, no, Luca. You were perfect. We have the finals tomorrow, and my team is counting on me as their unofficial captain. I want to be at my best.”
It’s a crock of shit, obviously. A minute ago, she wasgrinding herself into my hard dick so enthusiastically while moaning into my mouth like a feral cat, I thought she was on the cusp of coming from that alone. That’s why I suggested me helping her get to the Promised Land—because it seemed like she was well on her way there anyway, and I selfishly wanted the thrill of being the guy to give her that final push for the first time.
With an attempt at a smile, Chelsea heads for the door, while I follow her with my hands strategically placed to hide my massive, albeit wilting, boner.
“I had a lot of fun with you, Luca,” she says on an exhale at the door. “Thanks for everything.”
