I was so close to the edge as images of all the ways I wanted to take Kaylie raced through my head. My balls were already tightening up, and I could feel my cock throbbing. I wanted to hold back, to make the moment last. I couldn’t remember the last time I’d jacked off to the thought of someone I knew in my head. Usually I pictured some swimsuit model or watched porn.

The thought of Kaylie laid spread-eagle, her arms and legs tied to my bedposts, leapt into my mind. Just the idea that I might be able to take her that way one day tipped me over the edge, come shooting from my cock and landing on my chest. My heart raced as I lay panting, stunned by the force of my desire for Kaylie.

I didn’t think I’d ever wanted another girl the way that I did her. I wasn’t quite sure what to think about it, but I did know one thing. There was no way in fucking hell I wasn’t going to try my hardest to make every single image in my head happen in real life. She’d managed to catch my interest even when I was in the middle of that clusterfuck with Sasha before Christmas break when I shouldn’t have noticed anyone. I’d chalked it up to my usual appreciation of a hot chick and pushed her out of my head when I went home for break and got my head back on straight. The bottom line was that I might not have had to work to get a girl in my bed before, but you could be damned sure that I was going to now if that’s what it took.

CHAPTER 7

Kaylie

I spent my Sunday doing laundry, studying, and running through my dance piece again a few dozen times. And trying not to obsess over my date with Jackson. Because he’d made it very clear last night that it was a date and not a thank-you dinner before he’d kissed the hell out of me. I swear to God, he’d melted my panties right off my body. If we had been anywhere else but the bar in the middle of a shift, I wasn’t sure that I would have been able to walk away. Maybe my self-imposed dry spell wasn’t that great of an idea now.

After the last guy I had hooked up with decided that he loved me and wanted to settle down after school and have babies and shit, I’d freaked out. I’d felt guilty because I’d thought I had been pretty damn clear that, while I’d liked him, I hadn’t been in love with him and I sure as shit hadn’t been thinking about forever.

Char had been right when she accused me of picking safe guys, but what was I supposed to do when even they weren’t safe anymore? When they wanted more than you were willing to give and you felt like you’d kicked a puppy because you’d had to shoot them down? If you were me, you’d decide that the sex wasn’t worth it and keep to yourself for awhile. Which sucked because I missed sex, and now it made me even more vulnerable around Jackson since my body was craving the pleasure it knew he could give me.

“So what are you going to wear tonight?” Char asked, interrupting my daydreaming. “Something hot right? You need to blow his socks off. Or his pants. I’m not sure why anybody ever came up with that saying anyway. Who wants to blow someone’s socks off? It’s not like you want to see his feet. If you’re going to blow anything off, you’d might as well make it something interesting, right?”

“I don’t think I need a hot outfit to get Jackson out of his pants, Char. I’m pretty sure he’d be willing to take them off regardless,” I answered. And now I was picturing him half naked thanks to her suggestion. Again. So I couldn’t really blame her for my mind being in the gutter.

“I’m sure you’re right, especially after seeing the way he was watching you at the bar last night. And glaring at any guy who looked too long. Even after you changed shirts.”

“Hey, that reminds me. I should be pissed at you for going along with him about that. You’re my best friend. No taking his side, remember?” I said as I wagged my finger at her, trying to pretend like I was angry.

“Oh, please. You can act as outraged as you want, but if I hadn’t offered to cover the bar for you, then you wouldn’t have had the chance to make out with him in the back.”

I decided to play dumb and act like I didn’t know what she was talking about. “Me? Make out with a guy while I’m out work?”

“Yes, you. Don’t think I didn’t notice the way you were all mussed up when you came back to the bar, missy,” she teased. “I’m sure changing your shirt could have made your hair fall out of your ponytail a bit, but it definitely wouldn’t have smeared your lipstick. Or transferred it to Jackson’s mouth. Or made his hair all messy too.”

“Yeah, well I guess you were right about dinner being a date. Jackson decided that the way to make sure I got that it wasn’t just a thank-you dinner was to kiss me. And that boy can kiss!” I exclaimed, thinking about last night and the way my body reacted to his.