“You have to go slow.” She tilts her head back, closing her eyes in pleasure. “My mom and sister will hear.”
“Fuck that,” I growl in her ear. “I’m not holding back again.”
Last Friday night was agonizing, and while I enjoyed it, it was torture trying to contain myself so the truck wouldn’t rock and no one would hear her moaning.
I pound into her, the sound of skin hitting skin filling the room as I grunt and tense every goddamn muscle in my body. I know I’m hitting her deep, because her moans are getting faster and higher.
“I’m going to do something a little illegal tonight,” I tell her, tugging at her ear lobe with my teeth. “You game?”
“What is it?” she breathes out.
“It’s a surprise. Don’t you trust me?”
She scoffs. “Why would I trust you? The only thing I know about you is that you’ve got a nice body and you get me off good.”
I can’t help the stupid, fucking pleasure that swarms my chest. I don’t want to be just a fuck to her, but I’m glad I please her in that area. She owns my head and my body. When she finds out who I am, will she remember how perfect we are?
“You know more than that,” I whisper. “I won’t let anything happen to you. You’re my tribe, Ryen.”
She pauses and looks me in the eyes. “What did you say?”
Every part of my body tenses.
Fuck. Tribe. She wrote that in a letter.
Why did I say that?
I deflect as quickly as I can. I lean forward and come down on her, pushing her down to the mattress and thrusting deeper and harder.
“I said I won’t put you in danger.” I reach around and cup her face, turning her head and kissing her. “Come with me while everyone is at the game tonight.”
She whimpers, her eyes falling closed, and I can feel her tightening around my cock.
“Come on and make some trouble with me,” I say.
“And get an insight into who the hell you are?” she shoots back, her breathing turning shallow and hard.
“Maybe.”
She nods, her eyebrows pinching together and looking like she’s about to come. “Okay.”
I push into her, fucking her relentlessly, as electric shocks course through my stomach and stream all the way down to my dick.
“Yeah, yeah,” she pants, arching up her ass to meet my thrusts.
I cover her mouth with mine, our moans drowning out as we both come, her pussy squeezing like a vice grip around me. I thrust a few more times, wishing I could spill inside of her as pleasure washes over my whole body, and I eventually still.
Damn, she’s perfect.
I gnaw at her mouth in short, gentle nibbles. I love her lips, and the light sweat I can taste on her skin.
A door closing sounds from out in the hall, and I gather her family is starting to wake up. My eyelids are suddenly heavy, and I breathe hard, trying to come down.
I better get out of here.
Looking down, I see her face resting on the bed, her eyes closed, looking very content. I slip my hand between her and the bed and squeeze her breast, placing one last kiss on her cheek. “Thanks, Pom Poms. I’ll see you at school.”
She makes a little growl in her throat, but her eyes remain closed, and I laugh to myself as I clean up and get dressed.
“Do you think anyone will guess we got this shit from the bakery?” Lyla asks, holding up a stack of wrapped cookies.
I take the clear plastic bag from her, tied with a red bow, and set it back down on the long plastic table. “It’s not shit. Because it’s from the bakery.”
School ended four hours ago, but the parking lot is packed full of cars as we stand behind our table, greeting people before they enter the ball park. The sun has already set, and the field lighting overhead shines down, brightening the area as the last of the crowd filters through the gates.
Lyla and I were picked by the coach to work the bake sale tonight, and as a requirement, we have to wear our cheer uniforms. Fundraising is one of our many duties, and since we’re not busy rallying the crowd during the baseball game that’s about to start, we’re trying to earn some money for the team and acclimate some of the new girls coming in next year.
Technically we were supposed to bake the goods we’re selling—with the help of the team moms—but we’d dropped the ball, not planning ahead. It’s spring, school’s almost over, and I’m already swamped as it is. So we raided Lieber’s Bakery during school today and got dismissed from final period to package everything in our own bags with ribbons of the school’s colors.
“Come on, freshmen!” Lyla claps her hands. “Smile. It’s your new thing. I promise.”
I laugh to myself. I don’t envy them at all. The will to plaster a smile I don’t feel on my face has very nearly left the building.
I push the packages of cookies and brownies up to replace what has already been sold. Looking up, I see Masen standing near his truck with a group of guys from school. My stomach somersaults.
He’s watching me with an amused look on his face. I’d told him about the bake sale during Art today, so we agreed to meet afterward to do whatever it is he’s got planned, God help me.
After sneaking into my room this morning, catching me with my vibrator, and damn-near waking up the whole house—because he needed to get laid—the rest of the day passed relatively calmly. Everything else was easy peasy compared to that.
I resist the urge to pull out the huge-ass black bow on top of my head that we’re required to wear as part of the uniform. I can feel the laugh he’s holding back all the way from here.