The Guys Are Props Club Page 14

  Without breaking eye contact, he put a hand on the inside of my right knee. As he lowered himself on top of me once more, his hand went up my thigh and dove under the dress a few inches. He kissed me while his hand caressed my leg, moving slowly toward my middle. Yet as close as he got, he didn’t touch me where I craved him most. Instead, his hand moved to the outside of my thigh and rose, pushing the dress all the way up. He stopped at my waist and stroked me down the side.

  “Madison,” he said into my lips. “I want you so badly.” His hands came to my hips and pulled them to his own. I felt his power and desire through my panties. I was wet and ready for him.

  He began to fumble with his belt. “Is this okay? You’ve gone this far before, right?”

  When I didn’t answer he stopped and searched my face. Impossibly, my face grew even hotter with the force of my blush. His fingers came to a halt, only halfway done unbuckling his belt.

  “You mean you’ve never . . .”

  I shook my head.

  “You’re a virgin?”

  “Yes.” I murmured, feeling like a freak under his amazed scrutiny.

  To my dismay, he pulled away and sat back.

  “Something wrong with that?” I asked incredulously, scrambling to an upright position and tugging my dress back into place. Since when was being a virgin something to be ashamed of? I couldn’t believe this was happening.

  Sebastian’s mouth did a helpless babbling, but nothing came out. He only managed to shake his head, while I wrapped shaky arms around my middle and pushed further toward the other end of the sofa.

  Suddenly, he slid toward me, wrapped an arm behind my back, pulled me in and laid a kiss on my forehead. “I’m sorry, sweetheart,” he said. “I didn’t think you still were . . . Not the way you seemed to know how to drive me crazy. You should’ve told me. I would have . . . gone slower.” He rubbed my arm and kissed my cheek, while I was still melting at the thought that he’d called me sweetheart. Add to that his touching notion that my virginity required slow, careful handling.

  “I want to go through with it,” I said shyly. It was a bold thing to say, but maybe what he needed to hear to feel comfortable with it. My heart had been trampled, but this was a part of me that surprisingly had stayed intact. I wanted Sebastian to have it.

  “I do, too,” he said. “More than anything else . . .” He trailed off, pushing my hair behind my ear and caressing my jaw with the backs of his fingers.

  “But what?” I asked.

  “Well, I don’t think we should rush into it. I was already afraid we might be going too fast. It’s odd. I don’t feel like we just met, but we did. I want to do this right. You are unlike any other girl I’ve ever met. I don’t want to mess this up.”

  Guilt returned to me at his belief that I was different, when in truth I was as bad as Jessica, a person Sebastian found despicable.

  I stood abruptly. “Yes, you’re right.” I smoothed my dress down. “We should go slower.”

  Or not at all, a quiet voice whispered in my head.

  Chapter 22

  The next day when Sebastian texted me asking if I’d like to have lunch, I made up an excuse not to see him. I told him I had to study for a quiz and finish some chemistry and biology homework. He was sympathetic, which made me feel even worse about lying to him.

  But lying was what I’d been doing all along, wasn’t it? Everything he believed about me was a falsehood. I wasn’t good. I wasn’t any better than Jessica, whom he hated.

  I did, however, have another excuse for not wanting to leave my room. I wanted to talk to Jessica. She’d have to come home sooner or later, and when she did, I wasn’t going to let her leave until we had a conversation about what had been going on. So I holed up all Sunday long, skipping ahead on my reading, listening to music and drinking way too much coffee.

  Under the light of a single lamp, I was dozing off in my bed, trying to read a book, when the door clicked open and Jessica finally came in around 11 p.m. Instinctively, I pretended to be asleep. I heard her rummage through her closet very quietly. When she moved deeper into the room and started digging in her desk drawers, I sat up in bed.

  “Hi, Jess,” I said.

  She gave a slight jump and paused, but she didn’t look back. Instead, she continued digging in her drawer.

  “We need to talk,” I said, kicking the covers away and standing up.

  She transferred a few things from the desk to her purse. A few items of clothing spilled over the sides. “No, we don’t.”

  “Where are you staying? You haven’t—”

  She shut the drawer with a loud bang, set her purse down and whirled to face me. After crossing her arms and stamping one foot forward, she said, “That’s none of your business.”

  “What is the matter, Jessica?” I couldn’t understand why she was so mad.

  “‘What is the matter?’ You really need to ask that?” She seemed genuinely shocked that I didn’t know. Obviously, it had something to do with Sebastian. Maybe she thought I’d stolen him from her, but why should she care? All she’d wanted to do was Play him, and now she thought I was doing it. So what difference did it make? In G.A.P. terms, it shouldn’t matter. It all led to the same outcome: Another brokenhearted jerk.

  “You’re really going to stand there and pretend you don’t know?” Jessica looked livid. “You’re really going to act like you haven’t betrayed . . .” she hesitated as if searching for the right words, “Like you haven’t betrayed every G.A.P. member and all we stand for?”

  “What?”

  Every G.A.P. member? Was she serious? I shook my head.

  “I haven’t—” I started, but Jessica cut me off.

  “I know you’re not Playing Sebastian, you’re dating him. Like, really dating him,” she said matter-of-factly. “Isn’t that what you’ve been wanting to talk to me about? Huh?”

  I looked at Jessica, hardly recognizing her. Her blue eyes were wide and red as if she’d been crying. And she looked furious, her face contorted with a malice that made my skin prickle.

  Hoping to salvage things somehow, I took a step in her direction. “Jess, what’s wrong?”

  She took a step back.

  “Even if I’m dating Sebastian, that’s no reason to get so bent out of shape. It’s not like I’m going to marry him or anything,” I tried to joke.

  Jessica looked down her nose at me with disgust.

  “We started G.A.P. together,” she spat out. “You’ve betrayed what we stand for. Now you’re fraternizing with the enemy.”

  I couldn’t help it. I busted out laughing. “The enemy, Jess? Don’t you know how ridiculous that sounds?”

  “Ridiculous,” she repeated, nodding her head. “Don’t forget you were right there with us until your heartthrob came along.”

  “Yeah, I was, and to be honest I’m ashamed of some of it. What I did to Steve was wrong. I felt that way since the beginning, but I was too . . . weak to admit it.”

  “You did nothing to that asshole that he hadn’t done to his previous girlfriends. You know perfectly well what he did to Brandy, to one of your sisters. That’s why we picked him.”

  Hearing her talk now, I thought Jessica sounded deranged, but this wasn’t any different from what she said at each G.A.P. meeting. I guess I just hadn’t realized she was this serious about it.

  I tried to rationalize things. “People are mean to each other under different circumstances. Break-ups can be nasty and emotional, but most people don’t set out to hurt anyone on purpose, Jessica. Not like we have.”

  “Is that what you tell yourself about David, now? That it was just a nasty break-up,” she sneered.

  “David is out of my life. What happened over a year ago doesn’t matter to me anymore.”

  Jessica inhaled sharply and looked down at me as if I’d just insulted her or as if she’d just realized something momentous—I didn’t know which. I frowned, trying to understand her absurd reaction, but it made no sense to me.
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br />   “Look,” I said tiredly. “I don’t want to do it anymore. I don’t think it’s right.”

  “Don’t worry,” she said, picking up her purse. “You’re not welcome at our meetings anymore. Go right ahead and get your heart stomped on. You’ll find out sooner or later the mistake you’ve made. Sebastian’s just like all other men. Don’t go believing he’s special.” She started toward the door.

  I put a hand on her arm. “We have to outgrow what happened to us. Don’t you think it’s time to stop playing games? We’re not kids anymore.”

  Jessica looked down at my hand with disdain. At close range, I could see tears pooling in her eyes.

  “Jess,” I said regretfully.

  “Next semester,” she snatched her arm out of reach, “look for a different roommate.” And with that, she was gone.

  ***

  The next day, my body went to class, but my mind was elsewhere. I turned things over and over in my head, trying to figure out what had happened between Jessica and me. Our one-year-long friendship had fallen apart in a matter of weeks, and I couldn’t help but blame myself. We had made an unspoken pact of putting each other ahead of guys, and I had violated it.

  Now I was walking around campus, hiding from Sebastian yet again, knowing that we also had a conversation pending, one that would end up just as badly as the one with Jessica.

  Before lunch, Sebastian texted me.

  Sebastian: “Where are you?”

  I ignored his message, went to the rest of my classes, and at the end of the day went home feeling sorry for myself.

  Tuesday morning, I finally broke my perfect attendance record and skipped English class. I still didn’t feel ready to talk to Sebastian. At 8:15 a.m., fifteen minutes into the class, my phone buzzed.

  Sebastian: “Where are you?!?!”

  Four seconds passed.

  Sebastian: “Why aren’t you in class?”

  Another four seconds.

  Sebastian: “I’m starting to worry.”

  I guess it was time to stop hiding.

  Me: “I’m home. I didn’t sleep well last night.”

  Sebastian: “Are you sick?”

  Me: “I’m fine.”

  I waited for another text, but when it didn’t come, I figured Sebastian had decided to turn his attention back to class. When there was a knock on my door fifteen minutes later, I realized he hadn’t.

  He was here.

  Chapter 23

  “What are you doing here?” I asked Sebastian after opening the door to my room. “I thought you were in class.”

  “I was, but then my girlfriend wasn’t there.” He pushed his way inside and threw his backpack on the floor. His eyes swept the room.

  “She’s not here,” I said, guessing he was checking for Jessica.

  He faced me. The tips of his glossy, black hair tickled the top of his eyebrows. He wore an olive green shirt with the words, “Keep Calm and Tango” stretched across his chest, leaving no doubt as to its perfection. His dark jeans rode low on his narrow hips. He looked hot no matter what he wore. I started feeling self-conscious about my simple running shorts and tank top.

  “Everything okay?” he asked, pushing the hair off his forehead.

  Unable to answer his question and maintain eye contact, I looked away and went to sit on my bed. “Yeah.”

  “You sure you’re not sick?”

  “I was just tired. I need to sleep and . . . think.”

  He sat next to me. “And did you? I mean sleep and think.”

  “I did.”

  “So you feel better now?”

  “Um,” I took a deep breath, trying to gather the strength to tell him everything for once and for all.

  “Are you mad at me?” he asked.

  “What? No, I’m not mad at you. Why would you think that?”

  “Well, I started thinking that maybe I hurt your feelings the other night. You know, because I stopped in the middle of . . .” he trailed off. “Anyway, if that is the case, you should know that I came hoping that maybe,” he took my chin and turned my face toward his, “we could take things slow, like . . . right now.” His voice grew husky as his thumb pressed down gently on my lower lip. “Really slow.”

  My breath caught and all rational thought flew straight out of my head. Before I knew it, we were kissing and, although a part of me kept screaming I should stop, I couldn’t. His scent intoxicated me, and like every time he touched me, my body and mind gave in to him without hesitation.

  Sebastian took my face between his warm hands and kissed me with hunger. “I’ve missed you,” he said. “Did you miss me?”

  I nodded, and, without pausing to consider my next move, I swung a leg over his lap and found myself straddling him. He sucked in a breath as I pressed against him. Looking up at me, he trailed his hands up my bare legs, then went over my shorts to my hips and stopped at my waist.

  Lowering my mouth to his, I parted his lips with my tongue. His chest rumbled with a masculine groan, and he pulled me tighter, his hands going under my tank top. He caressed the length of my spine, as his lips kept up with mine.

  Tired of the obstruction his t-shirt posed on my own hands, I pulled away, reached down to his waist and found the hem of the shirt. In one swift motion, I peeled it off over his head.

  For a moment, I sat admiring him. He was beautiful. Toned and olive-skinned and wanting. I ran my fingers down his pecs, enjoying the smoothness of his skin. Without breaking eye contact, he reached a hand up my back to the clasp on my bra. His nostrils flared slightly as he took a deep breath, then with expert fingers unfastened it.

  He drew back in surprise as my strapless bra plummeted to my waist, leaving my chest without any obstruction. I smiled, pulled the bra out from under my tank top and threw it on top of Sebastian’s discarded t-shirt.

  Searching my face, he slipped his hands to the front and placed them on my abdomen. Slowly, he moved upward, making my nipples tense as I anticipated his touch on them. Then his hands cupped me, and I learned that the anticipation hadn’t even come close to the sensation of his hands on me. I felt undone with pleasure.

  I bit my lower lip and took in a sharp breath. His thumbs moved in unison, making circle around my nipples but not actually touching them. They grew tighter and tighter until they ached. My hips pushed forward and, through his jeans, I felt him against the light fabric of my running shorts.

  Heated with passion, I wrapped my arms around his back and pulled him closer. He groaned and, without warning, lifted me off his lap and sat me on the bed. His eyes were dark, and I thought he’d decided we’d gone far enough, but then he reached for the bottom of my tank top, and started lifting it up, giving me time to stop him if I wanted to. I took his hands instead and guided them upward.

  When my shirt came off, his eyes grew darker still. “Madison,” he said in a hungry tone. “You’re exquisite.”

  Putting a hand behind my neck, he lowered me slowly to the bed. He hovered over me, propped up on his elbow. His green eyes left mine and traveled to my lips, then down to my chest. Licking his lips, he lowered his mouth and laid a kiss right over my heart. I shut my eyes in ecstasy as his lips climbed slowly up the slope of my left breast.

  When he reached the top, his mouth closed over my pebbled nipple, his tongue flicking back and forth. I moaned and he squirmed in response. He lay at my side, but I felt his arousal against my hip. My skin felt tight and on fire, and a low, throbbing ache had reached nearly unbearable proportions between my thighs. Blood coursed through my veins trailing paths of fire.

  Sebastian pulled away. “Have you ever . . . had an orgasm?” he asked.

  “No,” I whispered.

  “Dear God. That’s a lot of responsibility on a man.” His smile was mischievous. “Do you ever . . . touch yourself?”

  “I’ve tried, but it’s never worked,” I managed breathlessly.

  “Man,” he groaned. “I’d like to be a fly on the wall when you do that. If you only knew what
you do to me, Madison.”

  He came up and kissed my mouth tenderly. His left hand caressed my face, then trailed down my neck. My own hands mimicked his movements as I touched him. Catching on to my game, he gave me a wicked grin, then lowered his hand to my right breast. I spread my fingers over a smooth pectoral muscle. When he squeezed my nipple between his thumb and index finger, I dug my nails playfully into him, making him shiver.

  Abandoning my breast, his hand moved further down, his open palm grazing the length of my abdomen until it reached the waistband of my shorts. In turn, I walked my fingers down his washboard abs and stopped at the metal button of his jeans.

  I paused there and kissed him. When I closed my eyes, his hand slipped under my shorts and panties, and found the tingling bundle of nerves that had been waiting for his touch. Crazed, I thrust my hips forward. He slipped his fingers further, brushing my wet core, then coming back up to that aching knob of sensation. As he moved back and forth, I forgot everything.

  Tension rose in every single one of my muscles. My hips moved with the rhythm of his hand, while his lips closed over my nipples and nibbled on them. The exquisite aching reached unbearable proportions. My right hand grabbed a handful of covers and squeezed. I wanted to moan, but managed to limit each exhale to a tiny, desperate sigh. Everything seemed to focus into a single pyre of sensation that had reached its peak, but didn’t seem capable of ever burning out.

  A familiar frustration rose in me as I found myself at the peak of ecstasy, but unable to release into a final climax. Trying to reach further, my fingers spread open over the front of his jeans. Sebastian’s chest rumbled as my hand brushed against him. Reminded of what I’d been doing right before he slipped his hand under my shorts, I fumbled with his button and zipper and managed to undo them.