Bad Rep (42 page)

“That's it baby, come for me,” he whispered as the orgasm kept going and going.  Fuck!  I just kept coming. It was insane!  When I was finally finished and my legs couldn't hold me anymore, Jordan withdrew his fingers and then suddenly my pants and underwear were pushed down to my ankles and I lifted my feet so he could get them off with his foot. 

Jordan swiftly discarded his own pants and then I was up against the wall again, my legs wrapped around his middle as he shoved inside me.  “Ahh!” I screamed as he thrust as deep as he could go into my hot core.  My vagina pulsed around him as he pulled out and pushed back in, slamming my back into the wall.

“Fucking hell, Mays!” Jordan groaned as his hips moved frantically with mine, his knees bent so he could find the perfect angle to push into my body.  The night air was punctuated with the slapping of flesh and our guttural cries as we both neared our shattering point. 

My legs were trembling and I was finding it hard to hold on.  Jordan hefted me up and pulled me down roughly onto his cock and I cried out.  His fingers dug into my hips as he rocked into me over and over again.  Finally, he slammed me into the wall of the building, burying himself to the hilt.  I felt him release inside me as he yelled at the top of his lungs.  I quivered and exploded with him in unison.

Jordan slowly let me down onto my feet as he withdrew from my body and my knees buckled.  Jordan held me against him so I wouldn't fall on my ass.  We were both out of breath and I couldn't even speak.  I rested my head against his chest as I waited for my heart to slow down.  Jordan rubbed a hand up and down my back.

“Wow.  Not sure why you needed to do that right now, but thank you,” I said, grinning, when I found my voice again.  Jordan reached down and picked up my jeans and underwear.  Holding my panties out for me I stepped into them and he pulled them tenderly up my body.  Then he did the same with my jeans.  He even zipped and buttoned them for me. 

“Is it a crime to want to fuck my girlfriend within an inch of her life?” he asked as he pulled his boxers and pants back up around his hips.  I pushed my hair back off of my face and pressed my cold hands against my flushed cheeks. 

“Not at all, it was just sort of sudden,” I replied as the sex euphoria started to fade.  Damn, had he seriously just screwed my brains out behind a dilapidated old shed in the middle of a party?  Yes.  Yes he had. 

Jordan kissed my mouth.  “You're so fucking hot, Mays.  When another guy comes on to you, it drives me crazy.  You're
my
girl.”  I grinned.  Who knew that Jordan Levitt was as insecure as I was?  It was oddly reassuring. 

He clasped my hand and we headed back to the party.  Luckily no one seemed to notice we were missing. 

Jordan led me into the house, where the party was getting a little out of control.  Someone had punched a hole in the dry wall and a huge chunk lay smashed on the floor.  Beer and booze were all over the place and the air reeked of pot smoke.  I felt bad for Garrett having to clean the place up in the morning.

Jordan kept walking, waving at Mitch and then Cole (who winked at me as we passed making me wonder if I had SEX written on my forehead or something), until we were out on the front porch.   Our bout of crazy sex seemed to have sobered Jordan up and he was at least able to walk in a straight line again.

He sat down on the porch swing and pulled me down on his lap, pressing his lips onto my collar bone as I fell into him.  He kicked out his legs and the swing started moving back and forth. We weren't alone outside.  There were people milling around the front yard but for the moment it felt like we were the only two people in the world. 

“Garrett said you were writing music again.  Why did you stop writing music?”  I asked him, remembering my earlier conversation with the lead guitarist.  Jordan dropped a kiss on the skin of my chest and turned his head to the side, laying his cheek over my heart.

He was quiet for a long time, as though he were listening to the heavy beating.  His arms held me tightly and I began to wonder if he had fallen asleep or something.  But finally he answered me.

“I finally have a reason to write music again.  I've been inspired.” he said quietly.  I ran my hands over his head, the short hairs tickling my palm.  My fingers came down and I rubbed the skin on the back of his neck.  He moaned as my hands worked their magic. 

“And what has inspired you, Jordan?” I asked, totally fishing.  Jordan rubbed his nose into the hollow of my throat, his forehead butting my chin. 

“As if you need to ask.  Every song I write now is because of you.  Every song I will ever write for the rest of my life will be because of you,” he whispered, his eyes held an emotion that made my throat close up.

I shuddered.  His words had hit me straight in the heart.  I needed to get this man home and show him how much I loved him.  I tilted his chin up so that he was looking at me.  His eyes were a little bleary, but otherwise he was in full faculties.  “You're coming home with me, right now.  I think it's time for a repeat performance,” I demanded, placing a kiss on him mouth.

He grinned under my lips.  “I love it when you get bossy.” He grinned as I pulled him toward my car.

Chapter Twenty-Three

I'm not sure what woke me up.  The room was pitch black so it was either really, really late.  Or really, really early.  Jordan's arm was around my waist, holding me tightly against his chest.  I was sweaty from being pressed against him, our naked skin sticking together. 

Jordan was making these adorable little noises while he slept and I couldn't stop myself from staring at him while he dreamed.  Looking at him like this, vulnerable and relaxed, made my heart flutter painfully. 

We had officially been together for over a month now.  Our road had been decidedly smooth.   Though I couldn't help but wait for the other shoe to drop.  But also trying to
not
wait for the other shoe to drop.  But all in all, I was happy. 

We were riding the blissful waves of the honeymoon period.  And things were close to perfect.  As long as we stayed far away from anything and everything Chi Delta and Pi Sig. 

It was sad how segregated our lives had become.  I continued to attend to my mandatory responsibilities within the sisterhood but that was it.  My life, that had six months ago, revolved around my sorority, was now tied up in this man lying beside me.

Jordan's ties outside of our relationship were a bit more consuming.  He had bartending and his band aside from his responsibilities with his fraternity.  We were both busy, but no matter how insane our days were, Jordan slept in my bed every single night. 

I knew I loved him.  I wanted to tell him.  But I held back.  I don't know why.  Maybe I was being ridiculous and wanted to hear him say it first.  Or maybe I was scared that if I let it out there, it would change things completely.  That maybe he wasn't ready for that level of commitment. 

Sure, he was the sweetest guy I'd ever met.  He said and did things that made my inner pinky girlishness tingle.  I knew he cared about me.  But I couldn't stop myself from doubting that he could ever come to feel for me the way he had felt for Olivia.  That girl he wrote that amazing song for.

Yes, I was still fixated on that stupid song.  I don't know what was wrong with me and why I couldn't get over it.  Maybe it was because I was still forced to see his beautiful ex-girlfriend several times a week.  And seeing her flawless perfectness made it damn near impossible to stop myself from calculating comparisons.  Plus, she was dead set on feeding my insecurities like a wild fire out of control.

It was in the way she casually mentioned something pertaining to Jordan, or their three year history when she knew I was in ear shot.  Or it could have been the way his Pi Sig brothers acted as though she were the goddamn prodigal son whenever they saw her, showing how perfectly she fit into that area of his life.  It didn't help that pictures of her and Jordan graced the Chi Delta walls.  Collages of the girls during past formals and mixers.  Jordan and Olivia, the most beautiful couple on the planet front and center in all of them.

Most of the girls continued their Maysie Ardin freeze out.  I wasn't exactly persona non grata, but I was pretty darn close.  I wasn't included in random drink nights during the week.  I wasn't sent the sorority wide texts to coordinate outfits for mixers.  I barely got a hello when I walked in the house on the few occasions I had dared to show up.

Gracie and Vivian tried their hardest to make it easier for me.  And god love them for it.  But I could see playing for team Maysie was weighing on them as well.  Because of their association with me, our sisters were less friendly to them.  At least when I was around.  I suspected things were fine once I had left and the girls could pretend I didn't exist.

So herein lays the crux of the problem.  Why didn't I just withdrawal?  Why did I continue to subject myself to such pettiness?  It seemed like a form of torture.  And there were many days that I wondered this myself.  At night when I'd lie in bed, with Jordan's warm body pressed against me, I'd think up the grand speeches I would give, announcing my formal withdraw from Chi Delta. 

I had it all planned out in my head.  I'd tell Olivia and Milla exactly where they could stuff their snotty little noses.  I would look at the rest of them and call them a bunch of bitchy hypocrites.  But then I'd wake up in the morning and swear to myself that I'd give it just one more day.  One more day to see if things would be better.  One more day to make things right again.

But as long as Jordan and I were together, that wouldn't happen.  And I was torn between this fantastic new love I had found and my longing to return to the fold.  The need to belong was strong in me and hard to quash.  I knew in my psychobabble way, that this was firmly rooted in me wanting my parent's approval.  It had simply morphed into all areas of my life.  The constant worry about what other people thought was exhausting and I wished like hell I could just let it go.  Riley thought I was an idiot and wasted no time in telling me that on a daily basis.  And I understood why she thought that.  Hell, most days,
I
thought that.  But I had pride and it burned pretty damn bright. 

So I stuck it out.  Even as my life seemed to get uglier.  Because the rumors were getting crazy.  Last week, in my Shakespeare and Chaucer class, we were assigned groups to work on a comparative project between Canterbury Tales and Shakespeare's story telling in his tragedies.  I was grouped with two girls, Cyndy and Aimee, who had lived on my floor freshman year and a guy named Charlie, who was a year below us.  I knew their names, but knew nothing else about them.  They weren't people I saw out and about in my normal, everyday routine.

But they knew me.  Or knew
of
me.  I saw it instantly when I pulled my desk closer to theirs to begin our work.  It was in the curl of Aimee's upper lip when I sat down.  It was in the look of barely concealed disdain in Cyndy's eyes before she flicked them back to her book.  And fuck if it wasn't there in the openly lascivious look Charlie tossed casually my way. 

“Hey, Maysie,” Aimee had said.  And the way she said my name made me feel like I had some sort of disease.  She and Cyndy had shared a look and Cyndy covered her mouth to hide a mocking grin. 

I had gotten pissed.  I was sick to death of this shit.  So I had slammed my book shut and looked at each of my group members.  “Is there a problem?” I had asked.  Charlie had looked startled and gave a mumbled, “no” before looking away.  Cyndy and Aimee weren't as embarrassed by their behavior.  Both were decent looking girls, but in a bookish kind of way.  Definitely not sorority material.  No, they were the girls, with their above average IQs, who looked down their noses and acted like anyone in the Greek system were barely functioning morons. 

“Yeah, I guess there is a problem,” Cyndy began and I gave her my best bitchy look of indifference. 

“Oh, yeah?” I asked, trying really hard to act like I didn't give a crap about their opinions when deep down I was dying.  Aimee snickered. 

“I mean, can you be counted on to pull your weight or will it be interfering with your '
extracurricular'
  activities?”  The bitch had the nerve to use fucking air quotes. 

“I'm sure I can fit you into my busy sorority schedule if that's what you're asking,” I answered snidely.  Cyndy's eyes had gone wide in feigned surprise.