Combust (The Wellingtons #1)
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Authors: Tessa Teevan
Combust
Copyright © 2014 by Tessa Teevan
All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this publication may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form, or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording, or otherwise) without the prior written permission of both the copyright owner and the above publisher of this book.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, brands, media, and incidents are either the products of the author’s imagination or are used fictitiously. The author acknowledges the trademarked status and trademark owners of various products referenced in this work of fiction, which have been used without permission. The publication/use of these trademarks is not authorized, associated with, or sponsored by the trademark owners.
Editor:
Mickey Reed
Cover Designer: Robin Harper of
Wicked by Design
Photographer:
Scott Hoover
Cover Model:
Ripp Baker
Formatter:
Champagne Formats
A Sneak Peek at the Prologue of Conflagration
Other Books by
Tessa Teevan
Ignite
(Explosive #1)
Incinerate
(Explosive #2)
Inflame
(Explosive #3)
Sweet Southern Sorrow
(Sweet Southern #1)
“YOU ARE such a fucking tease.”
Story of my life. Literally—or so it seems. That’s me, or what they like to call me. Andi Kane. Tease. Blue Ball Extraordinaire. The Virgin Queen. Yep, virgin. Did I mention that part? A tease
and
a virgin? Sounds like a lethal combo, right? As a self-described chronic masturbator from age fifteen, I've had a huge fondness for clitoral stimulation and never minded using my own fingers to get myself off. In fact, it’s all I wanted. At least that’s what I thought at the time.
But once Blake Jackson introduced me to the art of dry-humping in the back of his Chevy, I was hooked on the act. The way he rubbed his hard erection against my jean-covered thighs had me moaning into his lips in no time. Before I knew it, I was moving at a frantic pace as the tingling between my legs started to increase until I was pushed over the edge, experiencing the first orgasm not from my own hand. It was incredible in a toe-curling, mind-blowing, body-shuddering, make-me-breathless kind of way—without even having any penetration. I remember thinking to myself,
Well, damn. Who needs sex when it already feels this good?
And that’s been my motto ever since.
And it’s been one that has come back to bite me in the ass—and not in a pleasurable way. What my teenage mind didn’t realize or, well, care about at the time was that, while a little over-the-clothes grinding might get me off, it certainly doesn’t do it for the guy, and eventually, they’ll get tired of you just using your hand.
Don’t get me wrong. Once Blake and I got a little more serious, I graduated up to blow jobs, but by senior year, he wanted to go all the way—something I wasn’t quite sure I was ready for. Blake and I weren’t in love. In fact, we had already talked about parting ways since I was going to the University of Tennessee and he was heading to Clemson on a football scholarship. Neither of us wanted to start off college by being in a long-distance relationship, and we were smart enough to know that this definitely wasn’t going down the marriage path anyway. And knowing that there was no future for us made it so much easier for me to always say no. Until he no longer took no for an answer.
I don’t mean that in the way that he forced himself on me. Blake’s not like that, and I’d pepper-spray his ass if he were. All I mean is, instead of spending the rest of our senior year together, I walked in on him screwing Lisa Templeton at his dad’s New Year’s Eve party. He had the decency to look a little ashamed, but he shrugged and called me a tease, saying that he didn’t want to wait any longer. I promptly closed the door and haven’t spoken to Blake Jackson since.
That doesn’t mean the damage wasn’t done. All of a sudden, I found myself being asked out on dates by guys from all over the county, and my smart ass continued to do what I do best. Tease.
I knew what these guys were doing. Blake Jackson, star quarterback, couldn’t even get into my pants, and it became a competition to see who could bag the girl he couldn’t. I didn’t mind. They could try; they’d all fail.
Fingers, mouths, over-the-clothes rubbing? I was good with all of that, but not a single one of those guys was worth losing my virginity to, especially when I knew it was just a game to them. Eventually, one got bored and the next one moved in. Every single one of them called me a tease. Which, in my defense, isn’t really true. I’m a tit-for-tat kinda girl, and if I got off, so did he. I never promised sex, never teased that they were going to get it, so I felt the moniker was a little unfair. Now when they labeled me The Virgin Queen… That one I couldn’t really argue with.
“How was your date with Alex?” Reese, my best friend and soon to be roommate, interrupts my thoughts, and I turn to look at her, rolling my eyes. “That bad?”
Groaning, I lie back on my bed and cover my eyes with my forearm. “I don’t know why I even bother. I can’t wait to get out of this small-ass town and get to UT, where not everyone knows why Blake and I broke up. It was my first date with the asshole and he was already trying to stick his hand down my pants in the movie theater before the trailers were even over. I don’t know what they talk about in the locker room, but I’ve never hooked up on the first date, so I’m not sure what crap he was trying to pull. I had to almost break his fingers to get him to stop.”
After I’d glared at him and squeezed his fingers with enough emphasis to let him know that he wasn’t getting anywhere near my panties, Alex crossed his arms and sulked throughout the whole movie. When he dropped me off, I barely made it out of the car before he was peeling down the road.
I let out a long sigh before continuing. “That’s it. I’m making a pact. No more dates until I’m in Knoxville. And probably not even after I get there. I need a break.”
She sits down on the bed beside me and pats my thigh. “That’s probably not a bad idea. It’s only a few more weeks, and we have plenty to do to keep us occupied until we pack up and move. Then you won’t have to deal with a bunch of horny assholes all vying to be the first to bang the mayor’s daughter or the baseball hero’s sister.”
Yep, that’s me. Daughter of Mayor Kane of Bethel, Tennessee: population 3,276. Sister of Riley Kane, the baseball god all the boys look up to.
“Sometimes I think I should just get it over with, but at this point, there’s not a guy in all of Dyer County I’d even consider sleeping with. At least I know it’ll be different at UT and no one will be singing R. Kelly when I walk into a classroom. Blake is such an asshole for starting that.”
She laughs then starts singing his famous Bump N’ Grind until I take my arm away from my eyes to swat her shoulder. “Hey, it’s true what he says. There’s nothin’ wrong with it, but there’s also nothing wrong with taking the next step either. You know me. I say go for it. Sex really isn’t that big of a deal. It’s 2010, Andi. The likelihood that you’re going to end up living happily ever after with the first guy you sleep with is probably pretty slim. I’m not saying go out and whore around, but if you like bumping and grinding so much, I promise you’re going to love sex even more. Just get it over with. Rip off the Band-Aid. Straddle the bull. Ride the cock. Feed the python. Get it over with,” she insists.
It’s not the first time we’ve had this conversation, and until I take her advice, it probably won’t be the last.
Quirking my eyebrow up, I gape at her. “You just described sex in three different ways using animals. Excuse me if it doesn’t sound so tempting.”
Reese just waves me off and continues. “All I’m saying is we’re going off to college in a few weeks. You’re eighteen years old and you won’t have Daddy looking over your shoulder everywhere you go. These are supposed to be some of the best years of our lives. Just promise me, when we get there, you’ll have an open mind. Have some fun. Live a little. Plus, I know you like the whole bumping-and-grinding action, but let me tell you. It has nothing on the real thing.”
She winks at me, and I have to grin. Reese tells me everything, and I’ve heard plenty of details of her extracurricular activities with her long-term boyfriend, Cy, who is a year ahead of us and already at UT.
“Well, when you put it that way, who could resist? Trust me. I’m not saving myself for marriage or anything, but at least with Cy, your first time was with someone meaningful. But then again, I have no intention of getting into a serious relationship my first year of college, so maybe you’re right. Maybe I need to just do it.”
Her eyes light up. “Trust me. I’m happy Cy was my first because I love him and I knew he would take care of me. That being said, if you’re not looking for a relationship, I don’t think there’s anything wrong with becoming experienced until you do settle down and fall in love. And I don’t mean sleeping with a hundred guys before you decide to date. Just find someone who interests you, who physically attracts you, and have some fun. That’s all I’m saying.”
