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A ringing pierces the air, and we both blink but don’t stop.
One hand in her pussy and the other on her ass, I keep her going as she digs on the side of the chair for her phone.
Pulling it out, she pants. “My mom.”
“Answer it,” I tell her. “If you don’t, she’ll worry, and then she’ll track it.”
Her mouth falls open, caught up in the pleasure.
“Hurry,” I tell her.
I’m about to come with her writhing on top of me like this. Shit.
She answers it, holding it to her ear. “Mom,” she says, breathless.
I laugh quietly, hearing her mother on the other end.
Clay rolls her hips, biting her bottom lip as she stares down at me. “I’m okay,” she pants and then clamps a hand over her mouth. “I’m, um… I’m with Callum.”
I lean up, flicking her nipple with my tongue and smiling. “Yeah, Mom. She’s with Callum.”
I suck hard, and she moans. “Uh-huh,” she says to whatever Gigi is telling her. “I’m safe. I’ll be home as soon as the rain lets up.”
“You’ll be home when I’m done,” I correct her, jerking her harder into my hand.
Clay comes down, covering my mouth with hers, a smile peeking out. “Shhhh…”
My clit throbs, and I’m so wet. I push up into her as I bury my finger inside of her, feeling all the warmth pool at my center and my orgasm almost there.
God, fuck, Clay… She grinds harder.
She mewls, and I bite my bottom lip again to stifle my own orgasm as I clamp a hand over her mouth, watching her getting ready to come.
“I’ll just sleep at Krisjen’s, actually,” she spits out really quickly. “It’s already so late. I’ll be home first thing in the morning, okay?”
A pause, Clay jerks, her face twists in pain, and I stick two fingers inside, breathing hard as she loses her mind.
“Mom, I have to go,” she gasps. “Krisjen’s leaving. I’ll call you in the morning!”
Ending the call, she throws the phone somewhere, and her pussy clenches around my fingers as she cries out.
I shake, my body exploding as she rides it out, and I arch as she comes down and kisses me. Her cry disappears down my throat, and I feel the sweat trickle down my back.
“Fuck,” I gasp.
I can’t believe I came. I’m still fully dressed. I groan, keeping my fingers inside her for another minute as she lays down on top of me.
I wrap my arms around her, feeling warm and wet, surrounded by her heavenly skin.
“Is there blood?” she asks, her voice sounding weak and so sweet.
I hold back my laugh. I slide my hand out from between us and take a quick glance at my glistening fingers, a shot of pride that I got her so wet.
“No.”
It’s going to take something bigger and wider than my finger. Contrary to popular belief, a hymen isn’t really something you break. It’s stretched, flexed, strained… It’s not a barrier the way most people think.
She sits up, and I wipe my finger on my jeans.
“Look at me,” I tell her.
She does.
“Virginity is a concept invented by people to make women feel worthless for having sex.” I raise my eyebrows matter-of-factly. “You want to worry about protecting something. Protect your credit score. That’ll come in a lot handier someday.”
She breaks into a laugh, and my face falls a little, her smile leveling me. I don’t make her laugh much. Of course, she doesn’t give me much reason to, but how wonderfully we might get along if we could stop fighting. I’d love to find out who she really is.
She leans down, kissing my forehead. “Hot shower,” she says against my skin. “Take me home with you. Now.”
HER EYES ALMOST glow in the dark.
We rest on our sides in my bed, facing each other with my hands tucked under my cheek. We can’t sleep, though, and I hadn’t been able to give her the shower she wanted. With my brothers being home, she preferred to stay in my room.
She scoots in, and I can feel her breath. “Tell me about your first time.”
I shift, a little uneasy. “It was in a car.”
My late father’s old Chevelle that Macon sold a year later to help pay for my junior year at Marymount.
I stare at her, drawing in a breath. “The carnival had come through the day before, and we’d spent all afternoon on the rides,” I tell her, “laughing and eating junk food and getting sun-scorched.” I can still feel the hot plastic of the sticky seats as my mind drifts to the memory. “I remember being so sweaty with my hair plastered to my back, but I’d never felt so alive. It was like everything vibrated off of my skin. The wind in my hair as the Spider whipped us around. The dizziness in my head, the tingles on my skin when she touched me, the cotton candy on her mouth… It heightened everything, and I didn’t care about the heat, because I was throbbing.”
