“Don’t,” he says when my chest hitches with a bitten-off sound. “Let me hear you, baby.”
It’s easy to forget that we can be loud here, that no one is around to catch us. I brace my hand on the fogged-up window, leaving a smudged print, and finally moan the way I want to. It’s shrill and frantic, laced with an embarrassing amount of urgency.
“Yeah,” he breathes. “You like that? Does it feel good?”
Reyn, I’ve found, is a talker. It drives me crazy, the way his smooth, deep voice sounds in my ear when we’re doing stuff like this. It drives me crazier that I’m never coherent enough to meet it.
I nod dumbly, tongue wetting my lips. “Y-yes.”
I know he doesn’t have much space to work with here, and I briefly consider lifting my hips and pushing my pants away. But with a jerk of his hand, a slow slide, he somehow manages to sink one of his fingers into me, knuckle deep.
That already has me barreling toward the edge, legs trembling when I buck into it, moving my hips with his rhythm, chasing the sensation.
And then his lips come up to my ear, voice gruff. “Is it my turn to give you head now?”
I clamp my hand hard around his wrist when I come, pressing it close as I grind up against it, crying out. Just the thought of his face buried between my legs, those green eyes burning up at me, has me falling. ‘Earth-shattering’ is such a cliché, but that’s exactly how it feels, like the ground is quaking beneath me as I fall over the edge, thighs clenching. It’s almost better than the last time he did this, and that’s…
That’s saying a lot.
Reyn buries a warm chuckle into my throat. “Maybe next time.”
It takes me a ridiculously long time to shudder through the aftershocks, lungs sucking in these frenetic little gasps. I can’t seem to let his wrist go. “Oh my god, you’re so good at that.” I’m not sure where Reyn got the nuclear launch codes to my vagina, but here we are.
“Yeah?” he asks, his palm giving me another one of those crazy-making grinds.
I whimper in response, over-sensitive, but somehow unwilling to let him go. “So good,” I emphasize.
It’s difficult to let his hand slide out of my pants, but the way he licks soft and slow into my mouth soothes the loss.
He sighs when he pulls away, resting his forehead on mine. “I was trying really hard not to be that guy.”
I frown. “What guy?”
“The guy who fingers you in the Kmart parking lot.”
I reach up to touch his jaw, fingers rasping on the day-old stubble there. “Better than Martha Langford’s bedroom.” We share a quiet laugh, and I feel boneless and fizzy by the time he pulls away.
“What can I say?” He turns the keys in the ignition, fixing me with a deadpan smile. “I’m a romantic.”
“You look like hell.”
“Thanks,” I grouch, resting my face on the art table. “I didn’t get much sleep last night.”
As I say it, there’s part of me that wants Sydney to ask why, to question why I didn’t get any sleep, to declare I look different, more mature, less…virginal. And then I can tell her that I got fingerbanged. Twice. By easily the hottest, most off-limits guy in school. And then I can finally tell someone about this thing that keeps growing in my chest, every time I see him. It’s heavy and hungry, but it’s also full of excitement and delight. I think I know the name for it, even if I’m too cowardly to say so.
But she doesn’t ask.
In fact, what I notice the most about Sydney these days is that she never asks me about myself, at all. She never wonders what I’m doing or what’s going on in my life. I realize now that she never did. It took me having something to tell to really recognize that our friendship has always been about her social life—the gossip that swirls around her, the boys that like her, or wish she would like them back.
My relationship with Sydney is completely one-sided, and now that I have more going on in my life—real stuff, with an actual, albeit secret, boyfriend—the reality of it sinks heavily in the pit of my stomach.
Sometimes I wonder if she even really likes me, or if this has always been about the spectacle of it all, nothing more.
“I texted you at midnight,” she says, suddenly, pulling out her