I’m almost disappointed.
Noah brings me to his beat up old Ford truck and opens the passenger door for me, practically pushing me inside. I rest my suddenly clammy hands in between my thighs, trying my best to focus my thoughts but my head is spinning.
Did I drink one beer or two when I was talking to Noah? I don’t remember. I’ve drank a lot tonight and most of the time, I felt perfectly fine. A little buzzed, a lot turned on, especially when I was with Cannon, but for the most point, I’m good.
Right now, I’m not feeling so good. At all.
Noah slides inside, behind the steering wheel and then throws his chair back so he’s lying there, a tent already forming in the front of his swim trunks. I try not to stare at it, but wow. We kissed once. Could he get that worked up over a sloppy kiss that lasted all of fifteen seconds max?
I guess so.
“Come here.” He wags his fingers at me and then grabs my hand, pulling me over so I’m lying on top of him, my face in his. Then he’s kissing me, his wet, gaping mouth coming at me like he’s about to swallow me whole and for a while, I let him continue. I try to slow him down, try to pull away from him but he won’t give up the horrific kissing. His hands are on my boobs and he’s twisting and turning them both like I’m the volume control on a car radio. Back and forth, back and forth…
It sucks.
Batting his hands away, I shift to my side, drape my body over the center console and smile coyly at him while I reach for the string on the waistband of his swim trunks. “What do we have here?” I ask teasingly.
“Why don’t you open them up and find out?” Noah bends his arms behind his head and lies back like he has all the time in the world.
And I have to be honest-I’d rather go down on him than deal with his obnoxious kissing and greedy hands. This is so much easier.
Blow jobs I can control.
My emotions? Big muscly guys who want to be my knight in shining armor? I can’t handle them.
At all.
******
Oh, Em! She has issues, especially since she pushed Cannon away. I’ll offer you up a little glimpse into JUST FRIENDS — Em and Cannon act like they don’t even know each other for most of the book. Their possible story might come….later. And yes I’m a tease! Thank you for reading! Amanda’s chapter is next! Then we’ll wrap this story up with Dustin and Olivia’s chapters. And then…JUST FRIENDS will be out!
Make sure you vote/comment/share this story with your friends!Thank you for reading, I’ve had way too much fun writing this! xoxo
Chapter 16 - Amanda
Use me.
Those two words ring in my head over and over again.
Use me. Use me. Use me.
I shove myself away from Tuttle and leap to my feet, staring at him sprawled across his bed like some sort of dream fantasy come to life. I mean, seriously. He’s so freaking gorgeous with his shirt shoved up under his arms and exposing his ridiculously flat yet rippled abs-I exposed him like that, thank you very much-and his shorts hanging low on his hips. Revealing a tantalizing strip of dark brown hair that leads from his navel and down his lower belly before disappearing into the waistband of his shorts.
If I was a bad girl, I would’ve followed that trail with my tongue just to see where it led me.
But I’m not a bad girl. Not even close. I don’t use people for my revenge. I’m a nice girl who gets good grades and plays in the band and has the very best friend in the whole world and a terrific boyfriend who-Wait. Scratch that. I have none of that anymore.
The tears are streaming down my cheeks before I even really notice them. And when I do notice them, when I notice Tuttle noticing them and the faintly horrified look on his face upon spotting them, then I really break down and fall apart.
Whirling away from him, I spot an open door on the opposite side of the room and head toward it, ignoring Tuttle when he calls my name. Luckily enough my instincts are correct and it’s a bathroom. A ridiculously huge bathroom that is downright decadent for a teenage boy to be using by himself but whatever.
From what I’ve seen, the Tuttles don’t do anything half assed.
I slam and lock the door and then turn on the lights, inhaling sharply when I take in the opulence surrounding me. The countertop is huge, with so much available space I stare at it in awe. There are two sinks and the mirror runs along the entire wall, reaching all the way to the ceiling. There’s a giant walk in shower and a separate whirlpool tub with jets and a massive window that overlooks the backyard…
It’s freaking ridiculous. I can’t even believe this is Tuttle’s life. He’s living the dream. Some sort of warped fairytale where he’s the supposed poor little rich boy who’s ignored by his parents and can do whatever the hell he wants.
What’s so bad about that?
I use the toilet because when a girl has to go, she has to go. I wash my hands and the soap smells so amazing I just want to stand there and sniff my palms for a few seconds, but that’s warped and weird so I stop myself.
There’s a pounding on the door that makes me gasp and I leap away from the counter, staring at the door as if I can see who’s standing on the other side. Not that it takes a genius to know who it is.
“Amanda. Open the door.”
Tuttle’s dreamy voice is enough to put me into a trance and I literally have to shake my head to shake me out of it. I refuse to let this guy get to me. He just wants me to use him. He wants me to take my revenge out on Thad and Tara’s deceit by screwing around with him instead. Forget that! I won’t sink to their level.
“Mandy.” He knocks again, the booming sound making me think he’s pounding on that door with his fist. “Come on. At least answer and let me know you’re all right.”
“Go away,” I yell at the door, glaring at it. Wishing he could see just how frustrated I am. This entire night has been ridiculous from the get go. I’m so over it. Over everyone.
Especially Tuttle.
The door handle rattles. “You’re being ridiculous.”
“No, you’re being ridiculous,” I throw back at him like the mature almost adult that I am. He reduces me to stupidity when I’m in his presence and it’s infuriating.
He’s quiet for a moment, which I think is dangerous, but I decide to inspect his bathroom a little more closely. I run my fingers across the towels and they don’t disappoint. Plush and thick, I bet they feel like a hug when you wrap them around your damp, naked body.
This thought of course, makes me imagine Tuttle’s damp, naked body after he steps out of the shower and what he might look like. My imagination runs away from me completely…meaning bathrooms are a dangerous place.
Blowing out a sigh, I push all naked Tuttle thoughts out of my head and rub my hand across my forehead, glancing around. I contemplate making a jump for it out of the bathroom window. But we’re on the second floor and I could seriously hurt myself, so forget that. I’ll just wait out Tuttle. He’ll have to leave sometime and then I can sneak out and make my escape from this God forsaken house once and for all.
I wander over to the whirlpool tub and pick up a full bottle of bath salts, open the cap and take a sniff. Everything in this bathroom smells amazing and I can’t help but wonder what all this stuff costs. Way more than my parents could ever spend in a lifetime, I’m sure. And we’re just talking Tuttle’s bathroom.
A click sounds in the silence and I turn around to see the door swing open and Tuttle stride inside, coming straight for me. His face is determined, his eyes dark and stormy and I wait in breathless anticipation until he stops just in front of me, so close I could reach out and touch him with ease.
But I don’t.
“I said the wrong thing.”
I nod once but otherwise don’t reply. How did he get inside? Probably has a key, the tricky bastard.
“I didn’t mean to freak you out or upset you.”
Crossing my arms in front of my chest, I wait for him to continue.
“I just wa
nted to kiss you.”
My skin goes warm at his confession.
His gaze is now locked on my lips. “I still want to kiss you,” he tells them.
I squirm a little. I still want to kiss him too. Stupid, ridiculously hot boy that he is, it’s like I can’t resist him.
“Will you let me?” He finally tears his gaze away from my lips and looks straight at me. “Kiss you?”
Without a word I offer up a little nod and he moves in closer, his hands going to my waist and lifting me onto the edge of the counter. The tile is cool under my thighs and I gasp. Gasp again when he pushes my knees open and steps in between them, like he’s the boss of me and has total control of my body.
That was kind of hot.
He cups my face with his big hands and we gaze at each other for a few seconds. This is going to be one of those dreamy kisses you think only exist in movies-where the boy cradles the girl’s face in his hands before he leans down and presses his mouth to hers. I always silently swooned at those types of kisses. They’re the best.
Jordan’s head descends and he’s kissing me. Sweet and tender and soft and wet and hot and oh my god, his tongue curls around mine over and over. Slowly. I reach out and grip the front of his shirt like I’m clinging to him for dear life, which I sort of am. His hands drop from my face and he circles his arms around my waist, holding me close.
It’s the best kiss I’ve ever had. Hands down, the most amazing kiss of my whole entire life, not that I’ve been kissed much. But Tuttle’s lips put Thad’s to absolute shame. I have the scariest thought, one that makes me break away from Jordan Tuttle’s delicious lips and blink my eyes open.
What if Jordan’s kisses ruin me for anyone else? What if no one ever kisses me like he does? Does this mean I’ll go through the rest of my life comparing other kisses to Tuttle’s? How fair is that? How miserable will my life be as I try to find a man who can top Tuttle’s lips?
“Your brain is working overtime,” he murmurs against my neck as he kisses me there. His hot lips make me shiver and when he licks my neck, good lord, I’m a goner. I’m thankful I’m holding onto him or I might’ve fallen to the floor in a boneless heap.
“I’m thinking about the way you kiss.”
He chuckles, the sound tickling me and making me squirm. “If you’re thinking while I’m kissing you, then I’m doing it wrong.”
No. That’s the problem. He’s doing it right. So, so right.
“Stop thinking.” He lifts away from my neck and I gaze up at his handsome face. His jaw is shaded with stubble and his eyes are heavy lidded, giving him this sleepy, sexy look. He’s completely focused on me and nothing else, and I like being his sole focus. I also like how messy his hair is. I like it so much I reach for his hair and run my fingers through it, messing it up even more.
His eyes fall closed for a moment and he moans softly. “That feels good.”
A heady thrill rushes through me, that I can give him pleasure. That I can make him feel good. “You want me to keep doing it?”
“Yeah, if I can keep kissing you.”
So we do. We kiss and kiss and kiss. Me sitting on the hard edge of the bathroom counter, my hands buried in his hair, his hands running up and down my back beneath my shirt, fingers tripping over my bra clasp. Our mouths are fused and I wonder how I can even breathe, or how he can breathe. We both rarely come up for air, we’re too consumed with each other and I never, ever want it to stop.
“Let’s go back to my bed,” he murmurs long, kiss-filled moments later. He’s caressing my side, his fingers lightly skimming over my skin and I can barely keep my eyes open when I answer him.
“Okay.”
*****
Oh my gosh, these two! I adore writing Tuttle and Amanda. I love writing this entire story and guess what? We only have TWO CHAPTERS LEFT until ONE NIGHT is finished! cries Thank you all so much for reading and don’t forget to vote/comment/share with your friends. We are getting so close to JUST FRIENDS coming out! I can’t wait!! xoxo Monica
Chapter 17 - Dustin
I spotted Em a while ago, flirting with that guy Noah from the basketball team. He’s staring at her boobs and she’s giving him that wicked smile, the one I know for a fact she’s practiced in front of a mirror for years. Looks like all that practice paid off because next thing I know, he’s kissing her and she’s pushing him away with a disgusted look on her face.
I’m about to go over there and tell him to lay off when instead she takes his hand as they both rise to their feet and leave the backyard. She doesn’t even notice me as they walk past, and I’m glad. I don’t need her giving me some smug smirk. She’d love to rub it in my face that she’s gonna get Noah off while I’m left sitting here with blue balls.
But I’m still hopeful. The night isn’t over yet.
Livvy reappears a few minutes later after going inside to the use the bathroom. She smiles at me as she approaches, stopping directly in front of me so she’s all I can see and hear. “We should go, huh?”
“You ready?” I tilt my head down to meet her gaze and she smiles up at me.
“I need to get up early tomorrow so…yeah.”
I drive her back home, and we don’t talk. The music on the radio is the only sound that fills the car but I’m cool with it. What can we talk about anyway? Everything’s already been said. She knows how I feel about her, but it doesn’t matter. Not right now. She doesn’t want us to start something up only for her to leave for the next six weeks. I get her logic but it still bums me out.
When I pull my Jeep in front of her house and throw it into park, Livvy turns to smile at me. But I can see the sadness in her eyes and I know this moment isn’t easy for her. “I’ll miss you,” she admits, her voice soft.
“I’ll miss you too.”
“I don’t want to go.” Her lower lip trembles and she presses them together. “I hate that I have to leave you guys.”
“Come here.” I pull her into my arms, but the hug is awkward thanks to the center console. I run my hand over her hair and whisper in her ear, “It’ll go by fast. You’ll be back soon.”
“Yeah.” Her voice is muffled against my neck. “Sure.”
Slowly she pulls away from me and I kiss her. Nothing too crazy since it doesn’t feel right, to push myself on her when she’s acting so vulnerable. I’m an asshole sometimes, but I will never force myself on a girl.
“You gonna be okay?” I ask after she pulls away.
She nods but she won’t really look at me. Instead, she reaches for the door handle and climbs out of the Jeep, shutting the door quietly behind her. I watch her go up the walkway toward her front door and enter the house.
And then she’s gone.
I drive the few blocks to my house and park my car, but I don’t go inside. Instead, I exit my Jeep and lean against it, watching her house from my driveway since she’s just down the street. I can specifically see her bedroom window, and that the light is still on. So I wait her out by checking my phone, looking at all the photos from the party that are on Snapchat. When I glance up a few minutes later, I notice her light is off.
Without thought I jog toward Livvy’s house and into her front yard, rounding the side of the house to where her bedroom window is. I grab a couple pieces of bark from the nearby flowerbed and start throwing it. One after the other, the pieces of bark land against the glass with a slight ding and she finally lifts the blinds, squinting out into the darkness.
“What are you doing?” she whispers when she opens the window.
Like we haven’t done this before. It’s been a while, but still. “Let me in?”
We busted the screen a while ago and it’s gone, much to her mom’s worry. “Someone could sneak into your room!” she’d said after Livvy tore the broken screen off the windowsill. We gave each other smirks and continuous eye rolls, considering the only one sneaking into Livvy’s room was me.
“I didn’t want our last night together to end like that,” I tell her.
br /> “Like what?” She’s frowning and I shake my head, glancing around impatiently. I don’t have time to explain.
“Let me in.”
She steps back and I crawl through the window and shut it before I turn toward her. She’s standing in the middle of the room wearing just a tank top and the tiniest shorts I’ve ever seen. She’s all legs and bare skin and no bra beneath that tank and I can see her nipples poking against the thin fabric.
My self control shatters in that very instant and I lunge for her, pulling her into my arms and kissing her like my life depends on it. This moment feels so serious, like I’m trying to communicate with Livvy through my actions how much I care about her. I can say it over and over again-though I really don’t because the words never come easy-but showing her is the best way to her heart.
It has to be.
Within minutes I have her on the bed and I’m stripping her clothes off. The tank is gone. The shorts are around her ankles though she’s still wearing her panties. My hands are everywhere, touching and stroking and making her gasp. I kiss her chest and lick her nipples and she slaps her hand over her mouth to keep herself from crying out too loudly, I guess. I don’t know. I’m not really paying attention to her reaction.
I can only focus on her-and my need to get her off. My need to get off rides me hard too and I feel desperate. I’m frantic to touch her one last time before she leaves me. For some weird reason, it feels so…final between us. I don’t get it.
But I don’t have time to think it over either. I’m running on pure instinct right now. My fingers are between her legs and she’s spreading her thighs wider, giving me better access. She rears up and tugs my shirt up and over my head, tossing it onto the floor, whimpering when I have to remove my hand from her body to get rid of it.
“Don’t stop,” she whispers when I increase the pace of my fingers and I reassure her that I don’t plan on stopping at all by kissing her as I continue to touch her. She reaches for me, her hand delving beneath my shorts, determined fingers grasping onto me.
My moans are a little too loud when she starts to stroke and she glares at me, shushing me in a way that almost makes me laugh. Her mom’s room is just down the hall. If she caught us, my ass would be in huge trouble. Her mom likes me, but if she caught me messing around with her baby girl?