Page 109 of Palm South University: Season 2
I’VE BEEN PRACTICING.
I’ve been working every word over and over in my head for the last week since formal. I want this to be perfect, I want this moment to be as big as I feel like it should be. So when Jarrett opens his door dressed in nothing but relaxed, navy blue sweat pants that hang low on his hips, I close my eyes to stop myself from getting distracted.
“Jess?”
“Don’t talk,” I say quickly, eyes still closed. “I just need to get this all out, okay?” I crack one eye open just long enough to make sure he’s still there. And he is, in all his sexy, tattooed glory, brow cocked, an amused look on his face. I close my eyes again, blowing out one long breath.
“I’ve been stupid. I’ve been fighting you on this whole relationship thing and giving you every excuse I could think of because the truth is that I’m scared. I’m terrified, actually. That I’ll hurt you, that you’ll hurt me, that we’ll fail miserably or worse—actually make it together.” I’m rambling. I’m an idiot. I keep going. “Because if we do make it together, then that means we give each other even more power to break one another. And that’s fucking scary, okay? So, I’m sorry I’ve been a little crybaby bitch. I sucked on a pacifier for a few weeks and pulled up my big girl panties and now I’m ready. I’m still scared,” I clarified. “But I’m ready to do this. I want to be your girlfriend.” I wait, chest heaving, but no response comes. “Jarrett?”
When I open my eyes to make sure I’m not talking to a closed door, Jarrett comes into view slowly, one arm crossed over his chest and the other holding his hand over his perfect mouth as he fights back laughter.
“This isn’t funny, Jarrett!” I scream, my hands flying up. “I’m serious! I love you! I fucking—”
Jarrett’s mouth crashes down hard on mine, stealing my next words along with my breath. His hands wrap around my hips with ease and he yanks me inside his apartment, slamming the door closed behind us before throwing me up against it. A picture frame on the same wall falls to the floor, glass cracking as I wrap my legs around his waist and lock ankles. I tug him closer, my nails digging into his bare back, our breaths heavy and desperate.
His mouth is eager as he tastes my lips, my neck, the swell of my breasts. His hips pin mine against the door and he lifts my arms, pulling my tank top up and over my head before flinging it to the side. His expert fingers snap my bra off quickly, letting it fall to the floor as he lifts me once more and carries me to the bedroom. We barely reach the bed before he tosses me onto it, the comforter expelling around me in awhoosh.
Jarrett makes quick work of my jean shorts, stripping them off my legs and yanking his own pants to the floor as I lean up to kiss his abs. I take him in my hand, stroking him from the tip all the way down to the base and back, my tongue still tracing figure eights on his chiseled abdomen. Jarrett groans before pushing me back into the bed, his hands gripping my skin as he drags my panties down my thighs, my calves, all the way to my ankles. He lets them drop before wrapping his long fingers around my ankles once more, pulling my legs up one by one to rest on his shoulders. Planting one soft kiss on the inside of my left ankle, he smirks, the tug of his lips tied to the longing building inside me. My thighs tense and tingle as he flexes his hips forward, his hard on pressed against my slit, teasing.
“Jarrett,” I breathe his name as my hands find my breasts. He watches as I frame my nipples, tugging each of them gently. Groaning, his hands grip my thighs hard and he pulls me to the edge of the bed, answering my call, filling me with one solid thrust.
“Fuck,” he drags the word out, his hands sliding up my ribs, my breasts before holding tight to my shoulders and pulling me toward his second thrust. With my ankles on his shoulders, he hits me deeper than I’ve ever felt him before. He works me slow and steady, letting me feel every inch as he pulls all the way out before sliding back inside.
His hands slide up higher, cradling my neck and stretching my legs further as he leans in close to my chest. Jarrett’s pace intensifies, his eyes dark, wide, and locked on mine as his slides the thumb from his right hand in to hook the corner of my mouth. I suck hard, letting it go with a pop and his eyes roll back as his hips roll forward.
“I want you to come like this,” he demands, trailing his hands down my body as he straightens his stance. The same thumb that was just in my mouth finds my clit and I reward him with a sharp cry of pleasure.
“Only if you come with me.”
He smiles, biting his lower lip as his thumb applies more pressure. Every circle sends a jolt through me, my need pulsing in time with his movement. “Always so fucking stubborn.”
“You love it,” I shoot back and he slows, his smile falling.
“I loveyou.”
I eye him through heavy lids, my sexy, bald, tattooed boyfriend.
Boyfriend.
Yeah, I could get used to that.
“I love you, too.”
He stops, dropping my ankles off his shoulders and pulling me up to meet his lips. His kiss tells me more than his words do, and I let it speak freely, wrapping my arms around his neck and tugging him closer.
“Turn around,” he demands, smacking my ass. I giggle, doing as he says, but when one hand grips the bend at my waist and the other positions him behind me, the laughter is gone, replaced by a carnal need only Jarrett makes me feel.
He rocks in slowly, but picks up speed quickly, his hands pulling my hips back to meet his own again and again. When his palm finds the center of my back and he presses me face down into the sheets, I grip them with my fists and hold on tight as I find my climax. I call out his name, chest tight as I ride the wave for as long as I can. Jarrett comes right behind me, and hearing him moan sends an aftershock through my core.
When we’re both spent, Jarrett falls into the sheets with me, pulling me to straddle his waist. His hands slide into my hair and he kisses me, softer this time, longer kisses followed by short ones, like the most beautiful cadence.
“Mine,” he whispers between kisses, smiling. “Thankfuckyou’re finally mine.”
“WELL, LOOKS LIKE ANOTHER SEMESTER BITESthe dust, girls,” I say, tossing the last of my bags into my rental car. It feels weird to not be loading up the Bimmer for my trip home, but I don’t regret giving her up one bit. I would do it all over again, if it meant Ashlei’s freedom from Xavier. Even with Bo leaving, she still seems so much happier—lighter—and I look forward to her getting back to the old Ashlei.
Cassie shakes her head, squinting under the bright beams of the Florida sun. The first day of summer may be over a month away, but it’s sweltering already. “I can’t believe I’ll be a sophomore when we all come back.”
“THEY GROW UP SO FAST,” Skyler fake blubbers, pulling Cassie into a crushing hug.