“I’m not hiding anything.”
“Look. I know you’ve been going to meet him after curfew. I know that you were both gone on the same days and suspiciously left and got back at the same time. Are you having an affair with him?”
“Let me guess. You’ve been talking to Whitney? She seems to think we are. Even asked me if I was pregnant with his baby. It’s ridiculous.”
Peyton eyes me carefully, then says, “So why are you meeting him?”
“I’m taking some martial arts lessons from him. With homework and all the activities, meeting after curfew is the only time that works for us.”
“Why are you taking lessons?”
“I used to take kickboxing lessons with my stepdad and I missed it. And it’s a great workout.”
“As if the
Steele Building Workout
isn’t enough,” she says with a laugh. “I’m glad to know that’s all it is. And I can’t wait to go to St. Croix. Even if Whitney is pissed at me.”
“Why is she pissed?”
“Because I’m going with you. Why else?” she says with a smile.
Ohmigawd.
6pm
Every moment during my classes all I do is count down the minutes until I can walk out the door and see Aiden there waiting for me. Until I can feel his hand tightly holding mine as we walk to the next class. How he gives me a single perfect kiss at the door.
How I count down the hours until it’s time to meet him in his room for tutoring.
And I'm looking very forward to tonight's tutoring. We're currently studying body parts in French.
So I think a tutoring field trip of his body will be required.
All in the name of learning, of course.
When he kisses me before dinner, I know how my cell phone feels when its battery gets low.
When it flashes at me.
Low Battery.
20% of battery remaining.
Low Battery. 10% of battery remaining.
That's how I feel between each kiss. Like I need more charge.
And although each kiss boosts the charge, the second his lips leave mine, it's like I got unplugged.
We rush through dinner, ignoring our friends even though we’re sitting beside them. Then rush to his room.
We sit on his bed and kiss until he finally says, “We should probably do some homework.”
“I agree. And we should start with French.”
He smiles knowingly. “I was thinking the same thing.”
I spread open our workbook pages to the body part chart. “I think we should make a little game out of this.”
“Oh, really?”
“Yes. I’ll say the body part in French and you have to point to it. If you get it right . . .”
“I get to kiss it,” he says with a grin. “You need to lie down. So you’re like the girl in the diagram.”
“Fine. Okay, so the first word is
les lèvres
.”
“Lips,” he says, leaning over me and placing his lips on mine.
“Very good. How about
le bras
?”
He doesn’t say a word. Just leans down, slides my blouse open a little, and places his tongue on the skin just above my bra.
“That’s not right.”
“This better?” He repeats what he did, only this time he roughly sucks my skin into his mouth giving me an instant hickey.
“I didn’t mean you did it wrong,” I reply as he continues to undo my blouse and suck on more tender spots. “I, uh, meant that’s not, like, the right spot.”
“Do you like this spot better?” he asks, moving my bra aside and pulling a nipple into his mouth.
“Um, yes. But, uh, no.
Le bras
means arm.”
“That makes no sense. I like my translation better.”
“We have a lot of words to get through.”
“Give me another one then.”
“Uh, how about
le cou
?”
“That’s an easy one,” he says, sucking on my other boob.
“Aiden!” I laugh. “None of these words are boob.”
He leans back up. “Fine. What is it?”
“Neck.”
“Very nice.” He runs his hand down my neck and then kisses my favorite spot just under my ear.
“What about
le pied
?”
“Is that a trick question?”
“What do you mean?”
“Is it where you pee from?”
“Ha! No!”
“I bet it is. You’re dying for me to kiss there.”
“It means foot. You’re not doing very well.”
He kisses my nose. “Sorry. Next?”
“
La jambe
.”
“Leg.”
“
La poitrine
?”
He kisses across my chest.
“Very good,” I say. “That’s chest.
L’estomac
?”
He unbuttons the rest of my blouse and runs ticklish little kisses across my stomach.
I swallow and say, “Stomach. Correct.
La coeur?
”
He stops kissing my stomach, looks into my soul, and puts his hand on top of it. “Heart,” he says.
“Um, very good.
Le doigt?”
He pulls my hand to his lips, kisses my left ring finger, and says, “Did you know that the veins in this
le doigt
are supposed to run straight to your
la coeur,
and that’s why you wear a wedding band there?”
“I didn’t know that,” I say breathlessly.
“I’m going to do a quick version of this so we can get it over and get to the good part.”
I’m wondering what good part we’ve yet to get to, but I don’t ask because he says, “
La tête
. Sounds dirty, but just means your head.”
I swallow hard and close my eyes.
Think about the head that sits on his neck, Keatyn.
He touches my eye and says, “
L’oeil.”
Then he says,
“La bouche, les dents, la langue, les cheveux, l’oreille,
and
le nez,”
in rapid succession as he kisses my mouth, my teeth, my tongue, my hair, my ear, and my nose.
“Very good,” I say, but I’m a little disappointed. I had hoped this would go on a little longer.
“So, I have a follow up question to the Sex Survey,” he says with grin.
“I found out that you're not even in health class.”
He keeps his mouth shut tightly, like he's trying not to laugh, and smiles. “Everyone knows it’s a seniors only class. I thought you were just playing along.”
“I didn’t know. You tricked me.”
He smirks, shrugs in the most adorable way ever, and then kisses the tip of my nose.
I melt into a puddle.
Clean up on aisle four.
“Hey, wait a second. You just kissed the tip of my nose. That's what your mom said you do to get out of trouble.”
He leans in and kisses my bottom lip then grabs it gently between his teeth and pulls it away from my mouth.
When he lets go, he runs his tongue across it and whispers, “You use this. Your adorable pout. It's no wonder you always get your way.”
“Stop teasing me with your tongue. Either put it to good use or put it away.”
“Mmmm, you like my tongue?”
He uses his tongue to trace the curve of my chin.
I tilt my head back, giving him full access to my neck, and let out a little sigh.
God, I love this boy’s tongue.
I grab his face in my hands and bring it to my lips, shoving my tongue into his mouth.
Then I explore his mouth like it holds the answers to the universe.
He pulls me roughly onto his lap.
Which pretty much sets my panties ablaze.
I smile.
It's obvious my tongue is getting him worked up.
“I can feel you smiling,” he says in between kisses.
“I like sitting on your lap.”
I move myself against him, grinding into him while we make out.
He starts to make sexy little growls.
And they turn me on even more.
His kisses get rougher and deeper the harder I move against him.
He stops kissing me and grabs my hips. “You're gonna have to stop doing that or I'm gonna . . .”
I kiss the tip of his nose, smile at him, and then look into his eyes while purposefully moving against him.
“That's making it worse.”
“Good,” I say, smashing my lips into his and rubbing my jeans across the top of his hardness.
I let my body go. Let it do what it wants.
I move my hips faster and faster against him.
Over and over again.
And the friction causes me to . . .
Ohmigawd.
Can you get excited when you’re fully clothed? With nothing but the feel of my jeans moving roughly against me?
“Oh,” I moan.
Aiden reacts by grabbing my hips, controlling my motion.
I moan again, my insides throbbing.
He tightens his grip on me, stops my movement, and breathes out heavily.
Then he rests his forehead against mine.
“I think we just had sex,” I say with a laugh.
“We didn’t have sex. We’re fully clothed.” He laughs. “I’ve never done that before. Dry humping.”
“Trust me, there was nothing dry about it.”
He kisses me hard then says, “I’m gonna run to the bathroom real quick. Clean up.”
“Okay.”
While he’s gone, I realize that my heart has taken up residence in my vagina. It's still throbbing and pulsing and pounding.
I plop down on his bed. Maybe lying flat will help.
But it doesn’t. It’s begging and giving me an overwhelming desire to touch myself.
I reach down and press my hand against my jeans.
I don't hear Aiden come out of the bathroom. I'm trying to figure out what I'm going to do about this.
Aiden replaces my hand with his and says, “I'll do that.”
“It keeps throbbing.”
Aiden’s smile blazes.
When he runs his hand roughly on the outside of my pants again, that's all it takes to send me over the edge.
“Oh my god. Oh . . . Oh . . . Oooohhh . . . Mmmmmm.”
I move my hips quickly against his fingers. I don't care that there are two layers of fabric separating us. I'm shameless in my need.
Finally, I stop, lie back on the bed, and sigh. “Holy shit.”
“Did you . . . I mean, I don't think I've ever made a girl, um, do that.”
“I’ve.” Deep breath. “Never.” Another deep breath. “Either.”
Aiden’s smile lights up campus. “Never?”
“Not like that.”
“Not like what?”
I cross my legs and squirm.
“It’s still throbbing.”
“Tell me what
not like that
means, and I’ll do it some more.”
“I can’t tell you about that.”
“Boots, we have to be able to talk about sex. About what feels good . . .”
“I just told you what feels good! Please.”
“Tell me.”
“Oh my gosh. Fine. I’ve never had one happen from the outside before. Only from, um, the interior portion.”
“The
interior portion
?” he replies, laughing at my choice of words.
“You know what I’m saying.”
“
Vous avez eu un orgasme de stimulation interne
?
“Yes, Aiden, I had one from internal stimulation.”
“How? Exactly.”
“I’m not telling you.”
“Then I’m not rubbing you,” he pauses and touches the spot I want—no, need—him to keep rubbing.
“Fine! At some point in my life someone may have used his mouth on the outside . . .”
“
Sur votre le clitoris
?”
“Yes, on that part. While putting his fingers on the inside.”
“
Dans votre vagin
?”
“Ohmigawd. Yes, in my vagina. And then he put something else in there.”
“His
ton engin
?”
“Yes, his tool. I never should have bought you that dirty French book.”
He rubs his hand slowly between my legs. Not in the exact spot I need, but close.
“Now you’re just teasing me.”
“
Je vous aime taquiner, ma chérie
.”
“You love teasing me? That’s not right.”
“I want to know how to turn you on.”
“I just told you how, but you keep stopping!”
He leans down, kisses my neck, and finally rubs my jeans in exactly the right spot.
When I get to my dorm, I run to Maggie's room, pull her out of bed, and drag her into the stairwell.
“Are there different kinds of orgasms?”
She rubs her eyes. “Uh, yeah. Why?”
“Aiden was rubbing me on the outside of my pants. He wasn’t even touching my skin and I did. Actually, I did more than once. Or maybe it was just one continual one, I don’t know. And still, now, it’s like it’s still contracting.”
“Did you not have them with Dawson?”
“I thought I had. I mean, sex always felt really good, but it wasn’t until we went to his house for Riley’s birthday that I really did. He took his time, for once, but it was like an internal feeling. This is different.”
“There are two, possibly three, different types of orgasm. Clitoral, vaginal, and G-Spot.”
“How do you even know that?”
“Um, Logan may have looked it up.”
“Why?”
“Why do you think? He wanted to please me.”
I smile. “And is he pleasing you now?”
“Yes. Very much. We haven’t actually had sex yet. We want to make sure this is really right before we do it again, but we’re doing everything else. I think he’s trying to make up for being a jerk before. It’s been all about me. Which makes it really fun.”
“Does it ever stop throbbing? I think it might be broken.”
“Sounds like you need some sex.”
“You're right. That is what I need.”
I go to my room, lie in my bed, stare at the stars, and imagine our perfect night.
Which involves me stripping that boy naked tomorrow night and declaring
NO
vember officially over.
Once Katie is asleep, I get up, sneak out, and go meet Cooper for more butt kicking lessons.
Friday, November 18th
I need the feathers.
1am
Tonight is going to be amazing, I think, as I knock on Aiden’s door lightly. I’m going to glide those feathers all over his naked body.