Bad for You(43)

He shot me a thumbs-up and got out.

“Is that what you wanted, love?” I asked her as I slid my hand between her thighs.

She leaned up and pressed a kiss to my mouth. When I opened mine so I could taste her, she pulled my tongue into her mouth and began to suck on it. Fuck me, that was hot. My hand was on the wet crotch of her panties again, cupping her instantly. She was even more damp than she had been earlier.

A moan escaped her as I pressed my palm against her heat. “That feel good?” I asked.

“Yes, please.” She panted as she moved herself over my hand and started kissing my mouth again, greedily this time. She was obviously fascinated with my tongue ring. This was the first time she had spent any time exploring it.

I let her play a little before I slipped two fingers under her panties. The moment I made contact, she threw her head back and bucked against my hand. Never had I had a woman come apart on me from something so simple. Watching Blythe’s innocent expression flare up with desire was something I’d never get enough of. No one had touched her like this. No one had seen her the way I had.

As terrified as I was about hurting her, I was beginning to think I might need to worry about me. Blythe had managed to wrap me up so tightly that I couldn’t imagine life without her now. I needed her to live.

“Please,” she begged, panting as her heavily lidded eyes gazed up at me.

I slid a finger inside her tight entrance, and she gasped and stilled in my arms. I moved my hand and pressed exactly where I knew she’d feel it most. Her eyes flew open wide, and she grabbed my arm and tugged on it weakly. Then she cried my name.

“Easy,” I whispered against her temple as I pressed a kiss there. “I’ve got you. Just let it come, sweetheart.”

Blythe wrapped her hand around my forearm and squeezed. I took that as my cue to continue. With more tenderness than I’d every shown anyone in my life, I began to slide my finger in and out of the tight greedy hole squeezing me with a promise of how f**king mind-blowing it would be when I was buried inside her.

I didn’t have much time. One of the guys would be banging on the damn door any minute. I wanted to see this. I was craving it just as much as her body was. Using the pad of my thumb, I brushed her swollen clit and felt it throb under my touch.

Blythe trembled and whimpered at the contact. My body was screaming at me to take her. Rip her panties off and bury myself inside the tight heat that I knew would change my world. But my head knew I had to be careful. She was fragile, and I needed to cherish her. I would make myself worthy of this.

I began making circles with my thumb as her point of pleasure pulsed with each touch.

“Krit, I’m gonna . . . I need to . . . please.” Blythe was gasping for breath and holding onto me as if her life depended on it. “Make me come.”

Another thing I’d realized. If Blythe asked me for anything, I’d give it to her. With one final pump of my finger, I pinched her clit and watched as Blythe bucked wildly and cried out my name.

I was obsessed with Blythe Denton.

Chapter Fifteen

BLYTHE

I wrapped my arms around my knees as I sat on a bench to the right of the stage behind the wall. I had a perfect view of Krit. I could see Matty, too, but Green was too far over, and Legend was behind Green. They were amazing.

It was their fourth song of the night, and so far I had seen a bra and two pairs of panties thrown at Krit’s feet. There were also several notes and pieces of paper up on the edge of the stage. I wasn’t sure what that was about. Maybe there were something like fan letters.

This was a part of Krit’s life, and I knew he loved it. The attention from women was something I couldn’t change. I didn’t want to change him. He wasn’t mine to change, though the way he had acted after we got out of the Escalade had been different. Remarkably different. His hand was on me at all times. Even when he walked out onstage to check his equipment, he had kept my hand in his.

Girls had been screaming his name then, and he’d turned back to them and waved. One had even told him she loved him, and he’d winked at her. But all along his fingers had been threaded with mine, and his hold on me was tight, as if he was afraid someone was about to come snatch me away from him.

As if he could hear my thoughts, he turned to look back at me while he was singing. The grin on his face made my heart skip a beat and my stomach feel funny. I lifted my hand and waved at him, and his grin just got bigger.

It wasn’t the first time he had done that tonight. He was doing it a lot. I had worried that he would realize I was in the way and regret bringing me, but he wasn’t acting that way at all. He really hadn’t acted that way when we’d been in the car. My panties were uncomfortably damp now, but wow, it had been worth it.

I was worried about it though. That hadn’t been a friend thing to do. It had been intimate and something I never imagined I would do with someone I wasn’t in a relationship with. But with Krit, I forgot about all that and took whatever I could get.

Not having a mother to talk to growing up and not having a father who made me feel secure had warped me somehow. That was all that made sense. This intense feeling I had for Krit. This need to be touched by him. To belong to him. I had always wanted to belong to someone.

When I was fourteen, a girl in our church had been tragically killed in a car accident. I had sat at her funeral watching as her mother had bent at the waist as sobs had racked her body. The girl’s father hadn’t been much better. He had fallen on his knees and rested his head against the girl’s casket as his shoulders shook. It had been heartbreaking to watch. But the entire time I’d sat there, I’d wondered what that girl’s life must have been like. She had known a love like I had only dreamed about.

Then it had hit me. No one would cry if I died. No one would care. I wouldn’t have parents who were so overcome from their grief that they couldn’t stand up. I wouldn’t even have friends who had tissues wadded up in their fists as they stood and silently sobbed in their seats. That day had marked me.

Krit didn’t know any of this. He didn’t know what he was getting himself into with me. I wasn’t like the girls who threw their panties at him hoping for one night of pleasure in his arms. I couldn’t get up the next day and walk away like he meant nothing to me. I wasn’t wired that way. All my life I had been alone and isolated. Would I love naturally? Or would my love be a twisted, broken love? Would I love in a way that smothered and made people run away?