Breathless (8 page)

Georgia went inside to use the bathroom, getting
directions from Johnny and we talked about the game, about the first week of
classes, and all the silly little things we could think of. I wondered to
myself if I had any hope at all of getting him alone. When she came back a few
minutes later, dripping with beer some drunk guy had spilled on her, I felt a
little guilty; I really should have gone with her. But she told me she just
wanted to get back to the dorms and
change, that she’d be
back soon, and everything was fine—so
Johnny gave her a quick hug and
told her not to miss the best part of the party.

After she left, Johnny glanced around and leaned in
close to me. “Do you like music?” he asked. I rolled my eyes, smiling a little.

“Who doesn’t like music?” He grinned and I tried not
to tremble when he put his hand on the small of my back.

“Come on, I want to show you something,” he said. He
steered me through the crowd and up the long flight of stairs, explaining that
all of the frat’s bedrooms were on the second and third floors of the huge
house. He led me straight to his room and I felt a little scared—after all, bad
things could happen to girls in those rooms—but I started to relax when he
pulled a guitar out of his closet and sat down on the bed, picking a few notes
to check that it was in tune.

I was more than a little surprised to discover that
Johnny could really play—it wasn’t like some guys, who only learn a few chords
specifically to try and impress girls. He played a couple of songs I knew, and
even played me one—absolutely, breathtakingly beautiful—that he said he’d
written a couple of years before. Georgia texted me at one point, saying that
she was just going to stay in the dorms, but if I needed her she’d come back
for me.

Before I knew it, Johnny had put the guitar aside, and
was lifting me up off of the chair I had stolen to watch him play, kissing me
lightly on the lips. I felt like I had been waiting for that all night—all
week—and as he deepened the kiss, his tongue sweeping across my lips, I opened
my mouth and melted against him, wrapping my arms around his shoulders. My
heart was pounding, and I could feel how hot I was, the way my inner muscles
tightened reflexively as his hands began to wander over the curves of my body.
It was both like and unlike how I had imagined it. Johnny’s big, strong hands
slipping along my waist, down to my hips, cupping the cheeks of my ass for a
moment to give me a quick squeeze before they moved up to my breasts.

He lifted me up onto his bed and covered my body with
his, and I could feel myself getting more and more turned on; Johnny’s lips
left mine and moved down along my jaw to the column of my throat and little
hot, electric jolts shot through me, making me tingle everywhere. I couldn’t
deny that I wanted him more and more as we made out, touching each other,
exploring each other’s body through the fabric of our clothes. I shivered as
Johnny nipped playfully at the pulse point just below my ear, and I heard him
chuckle.

When I felt his hand slipping up along my inner
thighs, gliding underneath my skirt to touch me through my panties, I froze.
“H-hey,” I said, panting slightly, pulling back from his hungry kisses. “Could
we take it—a little slow? I’m sorry, I just…” Johnny stopped, withdrawing his
hand, looking down at me with concern on his face.

“No—yeah, absolutely. I’m not going to push you to do
anything you don’t want to,” he said. He kissed me again, his touches oddly
respectful as we both moved back into making out with each other. I almost
wanted to cry; he was so much sweeter than any guy I had ever been with. I
squirmed and writhed underneath him, my body getting hotter, my pussy soaking
wet.
To hell with going slow
, I thought.
The fact that Johnny had actually stopped, that he wasn’t trying to push me to
change my mind, had actually made me change my mind—all I could think of was
how much I wanted him.

I pulled back from the kiss again, but this time I
didn’t tell him to stop or even slow down. “Okay, I’ve changed my mind,” I
said, panting, my head spinning with the intense desire I felt. “No more going
slow, not right now.” I reached down and pawed at Johnny’s pants, and he
chuckled, reaching down and pulling my blouse off. I hadn’t even noticed that
it had managed to move up along my skin, almost exposing my breasts in my bra
already.

In moments, our clothes fell away, and I was touching
him—wrapping my hand around his cock and stroking slowly. Johnny was thicker
than I had imagined, not quite as long, but plenty long enough, and I licked my
lips, moaning softly as he reached up between my legs once more. He pulled my
panties down, the last barrier between our bodies, and I shivered at the
feeling of his fingers touching me. Johnny’s fingers slipped and slid between
my labia, finding my clit, and I moaned, pushing my hips down, gripping him
tighter in my hand as he began to rub and stroke me. “You’re sure you want
this,” Johnny said, somewhere between a statement and a question. I nodded,
thinking that there was absolutely nothing I wanted more.

Johnny slipped down along my body, his hips shifting
between my legs, and I let go of him, my hands moving to his shoulders, my arms
wrapping around him. “Any time you want me to stop, just tell me and I will,”
Johnny murmured, brushing his lips against mine. I felt his hard, hot cock
slipping and sliding along my soaking wet folds as he rocked his hips, rubbing
up against me constantly. “Any time, you get me?” I nodded, breathless, full of
desire.

“Yeah—don’t stop,” I said, smiling slightly. Johnny
guided himself up against me, and then he thrust up into me slowly, his thick,
hard cock pushing past the resistance of my body inch by inch. I moaned out,
grabbing at his shoulders desperately, my eyes falling closed and my head
tilting back. “Don’t—don’t stop, please,” I said again. I felt Johnny’s lips
curving in a smile as he pushed into me deeper and deeper, taking his time.

Finally, his hips were flush against mine, and we both
paused, struggling to catch our breath. He began to move inside of me, slowly
at first, and every movement sent tingling, electric jolts of pleasure through
my body. “God, Becky,” Johnny said, half-moaning as he brought his lips down
onto mine again. “You feel so good—so fucking good.” I nodded, not even able to
speak, only able to kiss him, to grip his shoulders as hard as I possibly
could, to wrap my legs around him and push my hips down to meet his thrusts.

We moved together, and every time Johnny pushed up deeper
inside of me, I felt myself getting more and more turned on, closer and closer
to orgasm. I couldn’t even hear the sounds of the party raging downstairs
anymore, only the sounds of our moans and gasps and panting breaths, the sound
of our bodies moving together with wet, slapping, sucking noises. Johnny
reached down between our bodies and I cried out as he began to stroke and rub
my clit again, keeping time with his thrusts.

In a matter of moments—I certainly didn’t know how
long it had been—I hit my climax, my fingernails digging into Johnny’s
shoulders, my legs tightening around him, my whole body awash in wave after
wave of pleasure. I was barely even aware of him groaning as he reached his own
orgasm, but everything in my body tingled as we kept moving together until we
simply couldn’t anymore, until I felt his weight against me when he collapsed,
both of us panting.

The next morning, I shivered as I awakened, something
ticklish brushing along the back of my neck; for just a second I was confused,
disoriented—with no idea where I was. But the night before came flooding back
in the next instant, and I smiled to myself, remembering how I had ended up in
Johnny’s bed, how we had gone from me asking him to slow down, to me almost
begging him to hurry up. I could still feel the ache deep down in my hips, the
tenderness where he’d pushed up into me.

I realized that the ticklish feeling at the back of my
neck was Johnny’s lips, brushing against my sensitive skin, his hot breath
tracing the curve of my shoulder. I grinned to myself, turning around and over
in the bed to look at him. “
Ahh
, you’re awake,” he
said, smiling at me with his bright eyes dancing. He pulled me closer to him
and kissed me hungrily, touching me everywhere.

I slithered just a little bit freer of his arms and
tumbled on top of him; my memory of the night before—of how he had backed off
when I had asked him to, how he had specifically asked me to tell him to stop
if I needed to, any time I needed him to—turned me on yet again. He was so sweet
and so gorgeous, and it had been so long since I had been with anyone, that I
couldn’t help myself. Johnny was already hard as I pushed my hips down against
his, straddling him, pulling myself up to look down at him with a little
playful grin. “My turn on top,” I said, and Johnny nodded, reaching up to cup
my breasts and tease my nipples, even as I shifted on top of him, rubbing up
against his hard cock.

I took him all at once, my hips starting to move even
before I thought about it, and Johnny thrust up to meet me, driving his cock
deep inside of me fast enough to make me almost cry out with pleasure. I bit my
bottom lip and rode him hard and fast, balancing my weight on my hands above
his shoulders. He felt so good that I knew I couldn’t hold back for long,
couldn’t savor it the way we had the night before. Johnny kissed me everywhere
his lips could reach, his hands wandering over my body and exploring my curves.
When he began to stroke and rub me, I was gone almost immediately, burying my
face against his neck to muffle the moans that ripped through my chest as wave
after wave of pleasure rushed through me.

Chapter
Ten

I couldn’t stop grinning—almost laughing—when Johnny
walked me back to the dorms afterward; it was earlier than most of the campus population
wanted to wake up on a Saturday morning, and I couldn’t help but think that it
wasn’t a walk of shame at all. He held my hand all the way, grinning at me,
like we had some kind of secret between us that no one else knew, and I was
still tingling all over, not even caring that my feet were sore from the heels,
that I was exhausted down to my bones.

I immediately woke Gigi up to tell her about what had
happened, about how Johnny had even given me a long, lingering kiss when we got
to the entrance of the dorm. I was giggling like an idiot as Georgia and I
tumbled around her bed, laughing and squirming. “He said it was really special
to him,” I almost crowed. “He said I was really special!”

“Girl, you got him—you nabbed Johnny Steel. What will
our RA think of you?” We giggled and tumbled around some more, and I couldn’t
help feeling happy in spite of how tired I was. “God, that was so perfect. You
played it just right.” Georgia shook her head.

“It was definitely lucky,” I said, shaking my head.
“Going from running into him—literally—to winding up in his bed in a week?” I
buried my face against Georgia’s blankets, feeling the heat in my cheeks.

“It’s perfect. You are the luckiest girl on campus.” I
had to agree that it was the perfect situation—that somehow everything had come
out exactly right; but as soon as I thought about it that way, I felt a little
trickle of nervousness in the back of my mind. If it was so perfect, something
had to happen. Something had to come and screw it up. Nothing was perfect—ever.
I decided not to think about it.

In spite of my worry, I was practically walking on air
Monday morning when classes started up again, almost unable to contain my
excitement. Johnny Steel thought I was special. Sleeping with me had really
meant something to him—a guy who could have gotten any girl on campus. He had
texted me a few times over the weekend while we were apart, sweet little notes
about how much he was missing me, how he hoped he would see me at every home
game, how much he wanted to meet up again and just hang out—even if we only
cuddled.

It shocked me how much easier it was to pay attention
in class when I’d gotten something I wanted so badly; instead of being
completely distracted by thoughts of Johnny, I thought about him for a few minutes
and then got back to work, telling myself that I would see him again soon
enough. He wanted me, after all—his texts made it obvious that he was looking
for more than just a random hookup.

I met Georgia at the dining hall for lunch, still
tingling all over and giddy with excitement. I took out my phone while we were
waiting in line, and almost couldn’t help but giggle as I showed her the texts
he’d sent me—telling me how sweet I was, a little joke about calling him if I
couldn’t find my way around campus again, about skipping class to make out.

We were looking around for a table, our trays loaded
up with food, and I noticed the girl who had been so hot for Johnny the
previous week, the one who had given me such a disgusted look at the party,
watching us. I tried to shrug it off and pretend like I hadn’t even seen her,
but the moment that Georgia and I sat down, she came over to our table, looking
sulky and almost angry. “Can I help you with something?” I asked, raising an
eyebrow. Up close, she was—I had to admit—every bit as pretty as me, with red
hair instead of blonde, and big brown eyes.

“I just thought I’d offer you some advice,” she said,
smiling unpleasantly. “I mean, you’re a freshman, so you probably wouldn’t have
heard.” I rolled my eyes.