Winter Jacket (20 page)

"I've got some homework to do,
” she said, “but it shouldn't take long."

“Homework on a Friday night?”

She smirked. “If I get it done tonight I have all weekend to play.”

"
Can you do it here?” I didn't want to sound clingy or controlling, but I didn't want her to go. 

She smiled and tilted toward me to
rest her head on my shoulder. I kissed the crown of her head, taking a moment to inhale her sweet scent. "If I stay," she murmured, "will I actually get anything done? Or are you going to distract me?"

"I would never get between you and school." I held up three fingers, lined up in a row. "Scouts honor.”

She yawned and stretched, that adorable prehistoric noise falling past her lips. "It's so cozy in here. I don't know how you get anything done.  I'd want to nap all day long." My suspicions were confirmed; she was part cat.

"Is
all your homework stuff here, or do you have to go home first?"

She buried her face back into my shoulder. "It's all in my bag in the kitchen."

If she kept being so cute and cuddly, we'd spend all day in this room. I was totally fine with that plan, but that shred of responsible adult was nagging at me to let her get her work done.

I regretfully pulled away. She tilted her chin up; her face was crumpled and disgruntled. "I'm going to grab y
our bag and some coffee for you,” I explained. “You can set up right here and use my desk if you want."

"Mmmm. That sounds nice,” she purred.
“Why are you so perfect?"

"You give me too much credit
,” I waved off.  All my life, praise had made me uncomfortable, especially when it came to significant others.  Hunter wasn’t my significant other, but it very much felt like we were moving to that point. “I'm bound to screw up sooner or later."

While I had napped, Troian had been blowing up my phone.  I had multiple missed messages from her:

Where are you?

Is Winter Jacket holding you hostage?

I miss my friend!

I didn’t want to become one of those people who, as soon as they coupled up, forgot about the rest of the world.
It was oh-so-tempting with Hunter to just hide away in my house and forget about everyone else, but Troian was my best friend.  I missed her, too.

I'm still alive
, I replied.

My screen lit up with an instant response:
Put on clothes. I'm coming over.

Her message sent me into a panic. Was I ready to introduce
Hunter to the people in my life?  I wasn’t worried about Troian and Nikole.  They had no connection to my university, and I trusted them both with my deepest secrets.  It wasn’t that Hunter was a secret, but I certainly wasn’t advertising that I was spending an unreasonable amount of time with a former student.  I knew Troian would give me more grief about it, but after the initial mockery and judging had subsided, we could all enjoy a nice evening together.

I was more worried about
Hunter. Letting her meet my friends definitely meant this was more than a one-night-stand. I didn't just let every girl I'd ever slept with meet the people in my inner circle. 

I
looked over at the girl in question. She was still sitting on the red couch, her long legs tucked beneath her body. On her lap was a thick, cumbersome textbook that I assumed was for one of her nursing classes – science stuff I hadn't thought about since high school. She looked deep in thought – brow furrowed, eyes narrowed and focused. Every once in a while she'd bite on her lower lip.

I wanted this.

I wanted her.

My thumb tapped out a message for Troian. 
Let's do dinner tonight. You guys free?

Her return text hid nothing. 
You mean we actually get to meet this girl??? I'll clear our schedule.  See you at 6.

I exhaled deeply
and tucked my phone away. Now I just had to make sure Hunter was even interested in meeting my friends.

"Hey, Hunter
?"

She didn't look up. "Mm
hmm?" she hummed, turning a page.

"Do
you want to go out to dinner tonight?" I asked.

"That sounds nice." She sounded distracted.

"Would it be okay if Troian and Nikole came along?"

That
caught her attention. She looked up from her textbook with wide eyes.  "Your friends?" Her voice pitched.

I tried to not make a big deal about it. "Yeah.
I just got a text from Troian seeing if we wanted to hang out with them tonight."

"Like a double date?"
I couldn’t interpret the emotion in her voice.  Was she excited?  Scared?  Hesitant? 

Because I couldn’t decipher her reaction, I didn’t quite know how to respond. 
"Maybe? I guess so."

The smile on her face started out small, just the ends of her mouth curling up.
It soon broadened across her face.

"So I take it that's a yes?"

"Of course it's a yes!" she exclaimed. The excitement on her face was quickly replaced with a look of horror. "Oh no. I don't have anything to wear."

"It's not a black-tie affair," I teased.

She hopped up from the couch.
 "I have to start getting ready," she said in a panicked tone.

"What about your homework?"

She dug through her bag, pulling out one article of clothing after the next. Her backpack was apparently a clown car. When I’d brought her bag from the kitchen to my office, I’d had no idea her wardrobe was stored inside.  "That can wait until tomorrow," she dismissed. "I have to take a shower."

+++++

I looked up when I heard the sound of high heels on the wooden stairs.  Hunter descended the staircase, ghosting one hand down the banister.  I let my eyes linger a little longer than necessary on her slight curves.  She was tall and thin, but with just enough meat in all the right areas.  Her skirt and fitted top accentuated the narrowness of her waist and the gentle swell at her hips.  I licked my lips and allowed myself this indulgence. I didn’t smoke, I drank in moderation, and I was mindful of what I ate.  Beautiful women, however, were my vice. 

Hunter
sensed the eyes on her form, and she looked down at herself self-consciously.  “Do I not look okay?” she worried.

“You look fantastic.” I wrapped an arm around her waist and pulled her close to place a soft kiss near her ear.

She fidgeted with her hair; she’d been wearing it back in a ponytail lately, but for tonight she had taken the time to straighten and style it. 

I noticed her uneasiness, and I took the fidgeting hand in my own and brought her knuckles to my lips. “Are you nervous?”

Her upper lip curled. “A little,” she admitted. “I just want to make a good first impression.  I want your friends to like me.”

“
You’re absolutely adorable,” I placated. “Of course they’ll like you.”

“And you’re sure this is an okay outfit?
” She tugged at the bottom hem of her top. “I don’t want to be over or underdressed.”             

“Oh, you’re definitely overdressed.”

She looked perplexed until she saw the predatory look on my face.

“I love it when you wear skirts
,” I openly admired. “Although this one is a little long for my tastes.”

She shook her head. “It’s too cold
tonight for a skirt, let alone a shorter one.  I just didn’t have any nice jeans in my bag.”

I made a bi
g production of pouting. “But that makes it harder for me to slip my hand up your dress during dinner.”

Her grey eyes widened. “Don’t you dare.
I get tongue-tied enough around strangers without your wandering hands making me forget my own name.”

“You don’t have to remember your own name though.” I licked alo
ng the outer shell of her ear. I didn’t know what had come over me. “Just mine.”

She closed her eyes and released a shuttering breath. “What time do we have to meet up with your friends?” Her willpower was admirable.

“We have plenty of time,” I reassured her.

“Because I hate being late; it’s bad manners.” She wobbled unsteadily when I slipped my hand beneath her top and stroked her stomach.

“We won’t be late,” I assured in a low, melodic tone. “I can be very quick when I want to.”

“Does this mean…does this mean…” Her voice wavered when I raked my nails across her abdomen, “that we’re done going slow?”

“That’s up to you,” I said hotly into her ear. 

Her response
was immediate. "I want you."

Her flexibility shouldn't have come as a surprise, but I made a startled noise into her open
mouth when I felt her knee nudging my hip.  I hadn’t figured the material of her skirt would allow for the movement.  I quickly recovered though and grabbed her leg, my fingers holding her tight behind the back of her knee.

"Up," I commanded.
 

She didn't need to be told twice.
Her other leg appeared at my side, and soon her long legs were wrapped around my waist.  I was thankful for upper body strength that allowed me to maneuver us closer to the kitchen countertop.  I stabilized her with one arm tight around her waist and the other in the small of her back until I had her against the kitchen island.  I let go briefly, just long enough to sweep my hand across the granite surface and knock everything to the floor.  Her thighs squeezed my ribs tighter to compensate.

We were both wearing too many clothes.
She seemed to have the same idea as her hands went to the bottom hem of her top and she haphazardly yanked it off, elbows flying. As soon as her top came off, my mouth was on her breast. The sheer fabric of her bra left little to the imagination, and I sucked her hard through the material. Her nipple hardened and pebbled, and I roughly licked against it with the length of my tongue.  Her hand went to the v-cut of my t-shirt and she yanked down hard until I heard a faint ripping sound. I could have cared less though. She could have gone Hulk Hogan on me and shred my shirt in half, and I wouldn't have been fazed.

When I reached beneath her skirt and maneuvered past flimsy undergarments
, I found her wet and ready for me. My single digit slid into her easily.

"More," she groaned.

I withdrew my finger and placed both my index and middle finger at her entrance. I gently pushed against her. "Like this?" I asked, meeting her eyes.

H
er top row of straight, white teeth bit into her bottom lip and she nodded.

I pushed just to the first knuckle. "This okay?"

She nodded and whimpered so I pushed deeper yet.

I curled my two fingers inside her,
pulling a sharp gasp from her. She clutched onto my shoulders and leaned in close until I could feel her breath, hot and coming in ragged bursts against the outer shell of my ear. "I need you deeper, Elle."

I was only too happy to oblige.

I grabbed on to her bucking hipbone with my free hand while the other began to piston in and out of her. She was so tight and so wet that whenever she clenched around me, I was sure my fingers were going to snap off.

Her hand clamped onto my right shoulder. For a moment I thought she was going to stop me, but then her hand traveled to rest on my right bicep.
 Before long I felt her jerking back and forth on my arm, controlling the pace and depth of my thrusts.  She pushed and pulled my two fingers in and out of her warm center in long, deep strokes. She made me bottom out on each thrust, and my knuckles rammed hard against her tender flesh. I groaned with want but continued letting her manipulate my movements to get herself off.

I felt her rapidly tightening around me and knew it was just a matter of time before she crashed over the edge.
  I swiped the pad of my thumb across her swollen clit and she howled.  When her orgasm crested, she threw her head back and moaned.  I continued my steady assault on her insides until the telltale tightening of her sex halted and her vice-grip on my bicep relaxed.

I felt exhausted
and disoriented when it was over.  I gently eased my fingers out of her sex.

"What j
ust happened?" she asked, sounding breathless. I hoped that would never change. I hoped I would always have that effect on her.

I looked around at my kitchen and at the objects strewn on the floor.
 It had seemed like a good idea at the time. Quick. Efficient. "We either just had sex or a tornado swirled through this room."

She pushed her bangs off her
forehead and looked a little dazed. "Or a sex tornado."

"S
omeone call the Weather Channel,” I smirked.

Her blue eyes widened.
"Oh, no. We're going to be late now."