Glimmers

Summer 1984

The stones always hit the glass after midnight. In the hours where the world seemed to be at it's most quiet. And I would lie awake counting down the minutes, the ticking of the clock on the wall mocking me as it appeared to tick backwards. My hair braided in anticipation, a pair of linen shorts and a blouse under the covers where my pyjamas should have been.

I was a creature of the night, now. Nocturnal. Simmering during the day under a canvas of wanting, letting the sun paint my skin darker and my hair lighter. Staring at him from the front yard as he watered the plants which lined his driveway. I could have had everything taken from me. But not those stolen glances. Those were mine to keep and cherish and I'd have had my eyes gouged out before I ever stopped looking at him.

Ours was a quiet love. With a temperament much more muted than that which unfolded between my sister and Jake's brother. Theirs was unapologetic and a threat to every shred of my Father's control. It didn't wait until the midnight hours, it fornicated in the afternoon when they thought nobody was looking.

Catching kisses at the side of Sam's house as soon as Dad's car pulled out of the drive. My Mother fretting on the porch steps, wringing her hands in her pinafore as Jolene skipped across the gravel towards the Kiszka house. Every word of warning left unheeded.

The way that we loved them was like two sides of the same coin. Hers a tempest and mine a breeze, and yet I knew that somehow we were both locked in something we couldn't escape. And the way that they loved us in return was just as belligerent. Just as forthright and never sorry.

"You better hurry." I insisted, keeping the blanket tightly wrapped around me until Dad had done his nightly checks. "Or you'll be climbing out the window in your night gown."

Jolene was sitting up in bed. Her lamp glowing as she turned the page of a book I knew she wasn't really reading.

"I'm not coming with you tonight." She said soberly, without lifting her gaze.

Her usual impatience at winding down the hours until she could be with Sam again was usually a bubbling cauldron. I shot her a look of confusion from across the room, waiting for her to notice. And when she finally gave credence to it, she rolled her eyes.

"It's different for you and Jake." She sighed. "It's still a secret. Sam and I have to move differently."

"You do well to be more like Jake and I." I pointed out, falling to silence as our bedroom door clicked open.

He walked in as if our space had never been sacred. As if this room wasn't the graveyard of a young girl's hopes and dreams. Desecrating it just by stepping inside with his hands in his pockets and his collar neatly folded over his signature blue sweater.

"It's late, Jolene." He scolded. "Lights out."

"Yes, Dad." She replied without argument, placing her book page down on the nightstand before switching off her lamp.

I pretended to be asleep. Letting my chest rise and fall the way it did in slumber. Keeping my eyes clamped shut, hoping he would bypass me and just close the door behind him.

"I am the all seeing eye, remember that." He said prophetically, with an air of dominance that left a bitter taste in my mouth.

I was relieved when he plunged the room into darkness. Leaving only his tyrannical echo for me to let fester in my thoughts. I didn't know much about hate. But I knew that I hated him, in every way a person could hate. I knew that I wouldn't care if anything terrible happened to him. Nor would I stand and weep at his grave.

"The all seeing eye." I mocked, pushing off my blanket. "Can't see what's right under his nose."

She watched me construct my blanket and comforter into a make-shift image of myself asleep underneath. Careful not to turn her lamp back on too quickly, even though I could hear Dad's footsteps descend the stairs.

"You're really not coming with me?" I asked, the sound of gravel at the window breaking a mounting silence.

"It's different for me and him." She continued, a rueful smile on her face, something I would come to regret not questioning her further on. "Dad doesn't watch you like he watches me. He thinks your penance was done. He still thinks I am a whore for having the audacity to love the boy across the street."

I would have spoken but she lifted a hand to protest. "Go and be with Jake, Bonnie. I'm fine. Believe me. I'm just tired."

I wanted to believe her. And even as I began to climb out of the window I sensed that I should remain. A fleeting feeling that left almost as quickly as it had come to me. She smiled and watched me go, her eyes warm and comforting as she switched off the lamp again and snuggled down into her pillow.

He always helped me down from that last jump off the porch trellis. His hands snaking around my hips as he took my weight, always letting me fall back into his waiting arms. Spinning me around as if I were weightless, burying his lips into the crease of my neck as I giggled against the assault of his tickles. And I could finally breathe.

When my feet were planted firmly on the ground, we would always take a moment to admire each other. My arms around his neck, his around my waist. And I would take in the features that I'd yearned for from afar.

"It's just me and you tonight." He said, sweeping a palm over my coiled braids. "So I've got something special in mind."

Everything felt like an adventure with Jake. It didn't matter if we hid in his garage or went for midnight walks down by the creek. It all felt so magical, like I'd been plucked from my life and placed within somebody else's. The tenderness within which he showed me what life could be had me leaning further and further towards complete rebellion.

"Where are we going?" I asked wistfully, letting his eyes fall on me like his gaze was a blanket of nothing but the purest adoration.

He didn't tell me. Instead his smirk let me know that I would enjoy it, his hand taking mine as he led me towards the car waiting in the middle of the street. He opened the door for me like the perfect gentleman that he was, careful not to close it with too much force.

My heart was racing. I looked as the last light in my house went out, and Jake slid into the drivers seat. I knew that I didn't care anymore if I were caught. I was never giving this up.

I knew the direction we were heading in. The road into town was just one long dusty track dotted with houses until you reached the Welcome sign. I'd never seen it in the dead of night. All the shutters up and the roads empty. The street lights flickering and an eerie sense of calm in what was usually a bustling centre.

I'd walked past the Kiszka's music store before. It was the biggest plot on the main street stores, fronted by a row of parking spaces with little meters sitting on the side walk. In the window hung an array of electric and acoustic guitars, and in the shop front was a display of keyboards and saxophones. Vinyl records neatly sat on little holders, each time a new album was released the vinyl in the window was changed. As Jake fiddled with a set of keys to get the front door opened, I noticed the album cover of Purple Rain had been placed front and centre.

Once inside, I knew why he had brought me there. My breath caught in my chest as the overhead lights flickered on. Revealing an almost cave-like menagerie of music paraphernalia. The store was so vast that each section had it's own home. The counter was up front to the side, glass fronted with a selection of chrome harmonica's sat in little boxes on display beneath the cash register. The guitar section extended down the entire left side. Floor to ceiling, hanging on little hooks and sitting on stands between stools ready for potential buyers to come and try them out. There was a drum set in the corner, a selection of wind instruments and key based instruments all on display as if a band were ready to start playing at any moment. On the right side of the store there was row after row of vinyls. All of them coded and in their own genre sections. The wall was covered in posters. Prince and Michael Jackson, Bruce Springsteen and Van Halen. Some of the faces I didn't recognise, artists I'd never even heard of with music I'd never been given the opportunity to listen to. And in the back of the store there was a listening area. Three beaten up old arm chairs set out with record players and headphones attached. And behind was a booth, glass fronted with a cassette player inside.

He let me peer around the place for a moment. Standing behind me with the most pleased grin on his face, watching my reaction closely. His fingertips grazed the small of my back as he ushered me further inside, switching on a set of cool blue neon lights by the listening area and he waited for me to notice the little picnic he'd set up on one of the side tables.

"You did all this, for me?!" I exclaimed, turning to wrap my arms around him.

"It's just a few chocolate strawberries and cream soda." He replied, caressing my cheek with the swell of his lips.

It didn't matter how insignificant it felt to him. To me it was as if he'd pulled the stars down from the night sky and presented them to me in a crystal bowl and two candy pink glass bottles.

"It's perfect." I remarked, running palms up my arms as a cool chill breezed through from under the door.

He noticed immediately. "Yeah, it can get kinda cold in here. Let me find something."

He shuffled off towards a door at the back of the store with a "staff only" sign emblazoned on the front. It gave me a moment to drink it all in. Fingering the vinyls as they sat in their genre coded boxes, letting them fall forward one after the other. I traced lines across the guitar strings on display, giving the drum set a little flick on the cymbal. My heart warming the rest of my body by a couple of degrees as I looked over at the little arm chairs, his romantic gesture set out between the two which sat side by side beneath the wall light.

He appeared moments later, carrying a couple of knitted blankets and some cups of steaming hot tea. Looking so deliciously domestic, my stomach began to knot itself so tight I knew I'd never be able to pick it apart ever again.

"Reminds me of the night you took my virginity." I lamented, letting him lay the blankets out on the chair which looked the most comfortable, watching him set the needle to something soft and jazzy, getting seated before inviting me to curl up in his lap.

As his arms closed around me, so did the blanket. I felt like I'd been wrapped in a warm cocoon, his soft heart beating a melody against my ear as I laid against him. The blush of my cheeks as he pulled me up for a kiss was radiating almost instantly.

"Nothing will ever compare to that night." He replied, planting his lips against mine so carefully that I almost breathed a little too hard into his mouth.

A part of me would always belong to that night. When I looked at myself in the mirror, entirely changed, I would trace a line down my breasts and imagine that it was his touch. I'd recall the lines of his body on top of mine and my breathing would almost stop. Jake had burrowed his way beneath my skin and was as much a part of me as my own soul now.

"Our wedding night might." I offered, the words tumbling out of my mouth like a running faucet.

I immediately bristled in his arms. My body solidifying against the comfort of his chest and the blanket. The regret was palpable. And I blamed the sweetness of the moment for taking me so far ahead into the future that I hadn't dared to ask if marriage was something he had ever entertained.

He didn't say anything at first. And I didn't dare look up to investigate his expression. There was only a silence that was growing ever more unbearable as he continued to stroke my hair.

"Perhaps." He finally responded, a hopeful little word that was spoken in a pleasing tone.

It was as if he was agreeing with me. Without giving too much credence to the concept. Casual, almost. As if the subject of marriage was absolute and should have never been in doubt and I felt foolish for ever letting myself have a regret with him.

"Bonnie?"

I dared to look up at him. "Yes, Jake?"

There was a strange look in his eye. Serious, and yet I felt as if he was mocking me a little. With the corners of his mouth pulled up slightly, a smirk on the verge of forming.

"You are eighteen. You are free to marry whoever you choose." He said, conjuring a mixture of hope and dread in my stomach.

I didn't quite know what he meant. What his intentions were. I could feel myself begin to stutter, my mouth poised to speak but the words lost before they could make it out.

"Is that what you want?" He asked, that hint of a smirk fading. "If I marry you, he can't stop us being together. You would be my wife."

The rate in which my heart began to excelerate was unprecedented. For a moment we stared at each other. Both of us waiting for the other to say something. And then the needle jumped, sending the music into disarray until it fell to an excruciating silence.

I took my opportunity to break to tension by opening up our warm little cocoon. I slipped off his lap, him keeping his eyes firmly on me as I went over to the record player and lifted the needle. Carefully placing it back on it's little bracket. I picked up the nearest vinyl, not caring to check the cover. Absently, I placed it on the deck and soon the room was filled with the dulcet tones of Ella Fitzgerald.

Let's do it... Let's fall in love...

He rose from his seat. Pulling me into a slow dance. Letting my erratic heart fall into the pattern of the song. I felt his arms come around my waist. My head forever at home against his shoulder, my hand coming to rest against his chest as the other pressed against his back. We swayed in silence, neither of us wanting to break the spell.

I allowed myself to imagine it, though. A wedding in secret, the church far enough away that word would never reach my Father. A simple white dress and a posy of locally picked flowers, our guests only a mere handful of Jake's family who wanted to witness it. The haste in which it would happen. All of us on tenterhooks until the paperwork was signed. I knew how this story unfolded. And it wasn't satisfying. But was is necessary? I didn't want to think about it.

"Forgive me." He whispered, "I didn't mean to suggest something like that..."

My forgiveness was not what he needed. I placed my finger at his lips and let myself fall into a kiss so deep that I moaned salaciously against it. His tongue sliding so deep that the arousal travelled the length of my body and struck lightening at my core. The churn of butterflies ignited, the raw ache of wanting him even when I was in his arms burned.

Sometimes it was like that. When the need was greater than the desire. He could have lit a thousand candles and I would have swept my panties to the side for him in darkness. When time was against us, it felt as if I would have sat upon the window ledge itself and let him suck and tease at me before even climbing out of it.

"I don't want to hurt you, because I love you." He explained, lingering on the precipice of something dark. "But if I don't hurt you while fucking...You'll never know how much I do..."

He drove his tongue back into my mouth, setting off another shattering moan. To him, I was a mere instrument to play. When the fever took hold. The urge to fuck surpassing all reason. When it was like this, that was when I felt the most alive. He didn't need to marry me in moments like these. I would have gone anywhere with him.

The raw intensity of his tongue drew me to the edges of despair. He made me sing the most glorious songs, delicious noises escaping my lips as he sank his teeth into my jawline. I grabbed his hair and pulled him into me closer. The wordless begging forcing his fingertips to dig into my hips. Without any thought behind it, he pushed me back into the arm chair behind us.

"Show me how much you love me." I sinfully requested, hedging my bets on his previous statement that it had to hurt for me to know.

He came and took his place on top of me, reclining the chair slowly until it was almost horizontal. Scrambling to tear off our clothes. The moment would not wait nor did it call for careful romance. We had known these moments in summer fields down by the creek and in candle lit evenings on the pull out sofa bed in his parent's garage.

I ached for penetration. And he was already leaking by the time he ripped off his boxer shorts. I called to him with my legs spread wide, leaning against the arms of the chair. My braids already somewhat falling out as he crawled above. He took the tentative step to uncoil them. Letting the waves out, my hair fall around my face as he leaned down to steal a kiss.

"I fought for this..." He murmured, sweeping his fingertips against the wetness of my labia. "And I'll fight for it until the day I die."

He didn't waste time with his fingers. I was already set to the highest peak of arousal. He took a firm grip of himself, making a few strokes as he centred himself between my thighs. He plunged inside me with such delicious intention that I gasped.

"You feel that?" He asked, motioning back before shooting his hips forward.

"I feel it." I confirmed, my walls stretching against his shaft with each daring thrust. "I feel you inside me..."

My virginity belonged to the past. I'd long since given it to him. I felt like a woman now. My need was slaked only by his caress. The way he pulled out my breast and laid his mouth over the bud of my nipple. The way he licked the curve of it, holding it between his thumb and index finger. The way he sucked hungrily at the flesh until it was dappled pink and almost blood shot. My senses were at odds.

"Still so tight..." He breathed between beating thrusts, his commentary sometimes the thing I hung on to most.

Sex, I had discovered, was not just a feast for the eyes but for the ears too. I often drifted away to the sound of his voice as he made love to me. The way in which he liked to give praise to my body. To the way it made him feel. The incandesce of his gaze like wild flames burning my flesh with each touch.

"Shit, Bonnie..."

Oh, the curses were what I lived for. I knew, always, when the curses slipped out that he was too far gone. About to step off the precipice into orgasm.

He fucked me so hard in that reclined arm chair that I could hear the springs about to break. The hinges about to come apart. I didn't care. Let it crash beneath us, I just needed him to give me that stinging ache I had come to know after he'd fucked me a little too brutally. When he'd let the intrusive thoughts take over.

His hair was saturated in sweat. Tiny droplets of it brushing against my chest. We didn't kiss, it was more like our tongues were dancing and our mouths perpetually open. The kind of sex only experience could bring. The sort of experience I was slowly painting every night with Jake.

"Tell me it feels good." He instructed, pulling away to look at the flush in my face, evening out his pace a little.

"Feels so good." I moaned, still finding my voice a little. "I promise Jake, it's good."

The growl that came afterwards made me almost giggle in satisfaction. He buried his face into my sweat drenched neck. Pounding against my thighs relentlessly. I could hear the sloppy sounds of how wet he'd made me. His careful nature lost, he wasn't making love to me. He was fucking me, hard. The way he liked to, the way he'd been too afraid to before. The way I'd suspected he could that night he had spanked me in the church.

"I love the way you fuck me, oh God..." My voice trailed off into a singular note of pitch.

It was the first time I had ever said anything unprompted. Undiluted and completely catching him off guard. The look of pure unadulterated devotion was enough to complete me. His thumb pressed against my drenched clit. Guiding me closer and closer. He didn't take his eyes off me in that moment. And it felt, for the first time, that we trusted each other to have the kind of sex we could only dream of.

"There's no God here..." He whispered, "Only me."

I knew it was true as he spilled inside me. That shock only a man could feel when he realised his woman was no longer someone he had to covet so gently. That she wasn't a girl anymore. It was like he couldn't believe it. Seeing me beneath him like that. Hot and sweaty from the beast that had bared it's teeth between us.

It took a few moments for us to catch our breath. He remained inside me, slowly softening and swallowing hard as he rested his forehead against mine. Truthfully, I didn't want him to pull away. I was still getting used to the residue, the way I had to navigate myself so that it didn't drip down the inside of my leg. The things nobody talks about when the moment has passed and there is nothing left but his cum nestled away inside you.

"Here." He offered, throwing me the tea towel he'd brought in with the hot cups that were now assuredly luke warm, teasing a smile as he watched me clean up. "If only you could see what a beautiful mess you make."

"You make." I replied, watching him tuck himself back into his pants.

"No." He insisted, taking back the tea towel so that I could dress. "It's not just that you're full of my cum. It's that your hair's all fucked up. And your cheeks are pink. And your flesh is all covered in sweat. Never seen anything more beautiful."

The rhythm of my breathing was still shallow as he pulled me up out of the chair. He placed a chocolate strawberry at my lips and we slow danced a little more. My hips ached and my thighs were raw. And that feeling that could only come after being fucked hard was lingering inside me.

"I meant what I said." He reiterated, "I will marry you, Bonnie. And you'll never have to live under your Dad's control ever again."

It would have been easy to say yes for that reason alone. But I didn't want that.

"I want to marry you, I do." I replied softly, letting him kiss my temple. "But I want you to ask me on a day where nothing else is at stake."

I could hear his chest fall in disappointment. "I'm not asking you to save you. I'm asking you because I love you."

His eyes met mine. I'd never seen him look so serious.

"I know..." I would have said more, but the moment was stolen from us.

The bell which tinkled whenever the front door opened drew us from this reverie. My stomach immediately churned into a sickness as I drew my gaze away from Jake, and dropped him from my embrace.

There was nothing I could do to reverse that night. Not the things Jake and I had said to each other that would have to go unfinished, nor the things I had done to set the wheels in motion that had brought Sam to the store in what I could only describe as a blind panic.

He fell through the door, breathing erratic. Pulling strands of his hair back as he tried to speak. Leaning over the counter, trying to catch his breath. Moaning in pain. Or was it despair? His panic was suddenly mine.

"What the fuck are you doing here?" Jake asked, rushing over to his brother. "You're not supposed to be here, Sam."

I sensed that perhaps Jake knew where Sam was supposed to be. But the line of questioning would have to wait. As I approached, I realised the level of trauma already lined in his face would stay with him forever. He was bereft. And I knew, somehow, that Jolene wasn't where she was supposed to be, either.

"Calm down." I tried, placing my palms on either side of his grief stricken face. "And tell me what happened."

I guided him over to the listening area. He didn't want to move. He didn't know what to do. He pulled away at first, scared of my touch. His eyes wide and apologetic. I could see that he wanted to follow, but there was a fear clutching at him that made every step just hard to take.

Once I got him sat in one of the arm chairs, I offered him a swig of cream soda. He declined, pushing it away like I'd offered him poison. Jake pulled out a hip flask and shoved it into his brother's face, forcing him to take a drink.

"You better start talking." Jake said dominantly, not as an older brother, but as somebody who naturally had more power. "Where's Jolene?"

I slumped down onto the arm of the chair, offering my hand at his shoulder for comfort. Jake stood in front, tipping the flask into his mouth until it was drained.

"We were... " He began, his body shaking and his voice unsteady. "You know? We almost made it...and then I realised we were being followed... I sped up and then they sped up...and then Jolene she said we should stop and I didn't listen to her... "

I instinctively moved away. "What do you mean? You didn't listen to her? She's in bed at home. That's where I left her."

Sam shook his head. "No, no... that's what she wanted you to believe. She wanted you to think that she was staying home. She didn't want you to worry. But... we had it all planned out. We were going to drive down to my Aunt's place down in Grand Rapids. They got a farm down there, we were going to help out and get enough money to get our own place. Somewhere your Dad could never get to us."

I couldn't help but steer my attention towards Jake. He was biting his lip nervously. Tapping his heel. Hands on his hips as he stared down at his brother.

"Did you know about this?" I asked. "Is that what bringing me here tonight was all about? A distraction?!"

He looked offended. "No! Fuck, no. I wanted to bring you here because I thought you'd like it!"

The place reeked of sex. The undeniable scent of what we had done lingered, the music was still playing something soft and sexy but the tone of it felt all wrong now. Sam didn't seem to notice, fresh tears streaming down his face as he stared into the void.

"Sam, where is my sister?" I asked bluntly.

I'll never forget the way he looked at me. I never wanted anyone to ever look at me like that ever again. Desperate for forgiveness. On the edge of losing his mind. If he spoke the words out loud that would make it all real. He would cling on to those wasted seconds for as long as he could, before he had to speak it into existence.

"I don't know." He swallowed harshly, "That's the truth. I don't know where she is. But... I think she's dead."

The engine fell silent. The gentle tinkle of Jakes car keys as he pulled them out drew me from my thoughts.

"No." I stopped him, "Don't wait for me."

He began to protest immediately, just as I thought he might. I'd already prepared a speech for him, but it seemed to fall flat as I tried to get the words out without bursting into unwanted tears.

"Of course I'll wait for you." He replied, knuckles against my cheek as he swept my hair back, strands of it sticking to my damp face. "I'd go in there with you if I thought it would do any good."

I tried to imagine it. His hand in mine as we navigated the hospital corridors. Feeling a little more calm than I would have without him. A part of me wanted to walk in there with him by my side. But the other part of me, and it screamed so much more loudly, told me not to bear that cross quite yet.

"No, my Dad will be there. And I'm not ready to face him with all this yet." I sighed, watching the clock on the dash as it turned 4 am. "Will you please tell Sam that she's not dead?"

He nodded gravely. "I love you, you know that, right?"

If nothing else, I knew that. It was hard to get out of the car, to even walk through the hospital doors knowing he'd be out there waiting for me. Even if I got in the car with my parents, he would stay there until he knew I was going home. It gave me some small comfort. The immeasurable toll of seeing my sister laid up in that bed attached to all the beeping wires was something I was not prepared for.

It was like walking into a court room and I was the one on trial. My mother was sat at Jolene's bedside, her hand wrapped around my sisters, holding it tight as she laid there limply. My Dad was standing in the corner of the room like a sentinel, resting his chin against a tightly curled fist with his arms folded neatly across his chest. Staring at her lifeless body as the chest rose and fell with each beep.

"Whore." He grunted, eyes immediately flaring hot like sulphur. "Just like your sister!"

"Not now, please" My Mother begged, using her voice for what felt like the first time.

The wave of emotion that flooded me was overwhelming. The sight of Jolene there like that, so helpless and lifeless. My Mother, in this tentative moment, speaking against my Father for the first time. And him, choosing to use it like some vehicle for his hatred of me.

"I suppose you spoke to your brother." He surmised, "Once you saw fit to come home."

It was strange. Like looking at a stranger.

"You know that Sam thinks that she's dead, don't you?" I almost spat the words out. "Why didn't you just let them go? It's because of you that this happened!"

The blasphemy caught him off guard. The accusation and the way in which I had thrown it at him. All I had to do was stand there and not flinch. To let the wave of anger that was assuredly coursing through his veins wash through him until it was permanently marked on his flesh.

"You've got the devil in you!" He said pointedly, standing close to Jolene's bed side as if I would contaminate her.

He had no power over me anymore. In one brief, fleeting moment I had eradicated eighteen years of oppression. Eighteen years of fear and doubt. I wasn't certain I could uphold it, against whatever he would do next, but I knew that if I just stood there I stood a fighting chance.

"You chased them down in your car. You think that God wanted this? Look at her... she's your daughter. You're supposed to love her and cherish her! Not run her into the ground until the car crashes and she's clinging on to her life!"

My Mom began to sob quietly. Holding Jolene's hand to her cheek. Perhaps it was the most affection she had ever shown, and Jolene would never know.

It was in stark contrast to my Father, who couldn't bear my defiance. When his hand struck my cheek, I tasted blood. But I welcomed it. Blood meant sacrifice. And I would make the ultimate one. When I turned my face, there wasn't a hint of remorse in his. Only a vexation that knew no limit. And yet, somehow, I had managed to exceed it.

I looked him directly in the eye. "Enough."

She would languish there until her injuries were healed. I didn't say it out loud, but I made a promise to come back for her. To never let another moment pass where she or I would live under this scrutiny and melancholic repression. And when I walked out of that room I didn't look at my Mother, or my Father again.

I ran out into the early morning light. Jake was leaning against his car in the parking lot smoking a cigarette. He looked tired. But when he caught sight of me standing there, something shifted. And I knew that everything was about to change.

To be Continued...

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SEPTEMBER 2013

HER POV

You fidget nervously at your desk, staring out the window of the second-floor classroom. You’d managed to tune the teacher out for most of the class period, but you suddenly perked up as you waited to hear who your assigned partner would be for the semester long History project. School had only started a few weeks ago, and you had hardly made friends with anyone in your classes yet. There were a few familiar faces that came with you from middle school, but no one that you really considered to be a friend. 

High school was different. Everything was much more fast paced, and you learned quickly that being surrounded by people even a couple of years older than you proved to be quite the culture shock. They smoked cigarettes in the parking lot, made out in the hallways, and even owned their own cars. You even heard a couple people at lunch last week planning a party at their parents’ house while they were gone. You spent the last few weeks acclimating to the change of environment and getting into the groove of your new schedule. 

You pleasantly surprised yourself when it hit you that third period History class was turning out to be one of your favorites. 

As you listen to your teacher read off the names of the assigned partners, you hold your breath as she reaches your name. 

“Y/N, you’ll be with Samuel Kiszka.” 

Sam? 

He looks your way and gives you a cheerful, soft grin. You can barely see his eyes behind his swooping brown bangs. You can see the outline of his braces under his lips as he gives you a small wave in acknowledgement of his assignment. You smile back, suddenly feeling a shyness creep over you. 

You wouldn’t say that you and Sam are friends, but you have known him for a long time. A very long time, actually. Your parents are best friends with his parents, and they have been since highschool. There have been many times that the Kiszka’s would spend New Years Eve at your house, or you at theirs. Fourth of July was always spent with them, and even sometimes Thanksgiving. Your parents had been constants in one another’s lives, and they had passed their loving relationships right down to their kids. You grew up around the three brothers, and though they felt more like distant cousins than friends, you always saw them as just other kids you spent the holidays with. 

When the teacher called out Sam’s name, it felt like a huge relief, like a nervous weight had been lifted from your shoulders. Now you wouldn’t have to spend the entire semester getting to know someone you didn’t choose yourself, and working closely with them on the project. You already knew Sam, just superficially. 

As the bell for the end of class rang, you collected up your books and zipped them into your mesh Jansport backpack. As you stood up, Sam approached your desk, gripping the straps of his own backpack. “Hey partner!” he smiled. 

Looking up at him nervously, you replied, “Hey Sam!”

“I’m kind of glad teach put us together,” he said. “I don’t really know anyone else yet.” His eyes drifted aimlessly around the rest of the room. 

“I thought the same thing!” you say, reaching in your bag and pulling out a piece of scrap paper to write your number on. You searched your bag for something to write with, coming up short as you realized you’d zipped them away in your pouch. 

“Ah, care if I borrow this?” You asked Sam, gently pulling the pencil he had tucked behind his ear. He jerked away a little, like he didn’t expect you to reach your hand up to him. “It’s okay Sam, I don’t bite.” You giggled, quickly scribbling your number onto the strip. “Here’s my number. Text me so we can start to plan out our ideas. Seems like it's going to be a huge project.” You tucked the pencil back behind his ear, noticing his lip get stuck on his braces a little as he gave you a shy smile. 

His cheeks turn a sweet pink, and he accepts the paper from your fingers. “Cool. I’ll uh, I’ll text you later about it. Be thinking of ideas.” he says, nodding his head and walking off. 

Maybe this won’t be so bad after all. 

Thinking of topics for the project proved challenging. The premise of the project was to explain the history of a man-made modern day object. You spent a lot of the day thinking of things that were interesting and had a cool history behind them, but that wouldn’t require too much difficult research. The last thing you wanted to do was get bored with your choice. 

As you sat down at a table for lunch that day, you began to unpack the lunch your mom made for you. One or two girls from your previous class sat around you, and you talked mindlessly about the pep rally coming up and about the football game that would follow it.

“I got a dress, but someone said it’s not a dress-up event. Everyone just wears what they wore to the game. And it’s gonna be cold, I can’t wear my heels to a football game!” You listened as your fellow freshmen girls debated on what the traditional homecoming norms were, disassociating from the conversation. 

As you zoned out, you noticed Sam. He was sitting at a table with his best friend, Danny. They were typical teenage boys, cutting up and cracking jokes as they tossed pieces of french fries at one another. Danny had always been around in your life, too, though you didn’t know too terribly much about him. Just that he was Sam’s best friend since kindergarten. 

Sam’s eyes caught yours and he flashed you a smile, before quickly turning his attention back to Danny. Throughout the rest of the lunch period, you caught each other's eyes a few more times, but nothing more than just small glances. He had kind eyes and you could tell he had grown into a good person. He’d always been a nice guy, but maybe getting to know him a little better during this project could prove he was a little bit more than just nice. 

—

You can smell the dinner your mom is cooking as you reposition yourself in your desk chair, your right leg practically asleep tucked up underneath you. You’d spent most of the evening with your nose in your Economics book preparing for the test tomorrow. It wasn’t your best subject, but so far you had a pretty good grasp on it. Gliding your finger along the text you take in the words trying to commit them to your memory. As you reach the end of a sentence, you notice your phone light up and a buzz shakes the wooden desk. 

Unknown: Hey it’s Sam

Oh, that was quick.

You’d half expected him to lose the slip of paper you gave him as you watched him shove it into his jeans pocket, but much to your surprise he didn’t. You added his contact to your phone and sent a quick reply. 

You: Hey Sam!

It’s not long at all before he answers, as if he was staring at the screen waiting for your response. 

Sam: Do you have any ideas for the project?

You: Yeah I do! I was thinking maybe we could do something music related since you are all into that now.

Sam: I’d love that, but are you sure?

You: Yeah, it will be fun and easy. Maybe we can do the evolution of the guitar or something?

You hope that by choosing a topic he’s interested in, he won't leave you to do the majority of the work. 

Sam: That would be awesome. I always knew you were cool.

You: Lol, thanks…

Sam: Do you want to come to my house tomorrow and we can start on it?

You: You don’t have something better to do on a Friday night?

You smile to yourself as you send the message, because you know that you also have nothing going on either.

Sam: Nah, just mess around and play music in the garage like usual. Plus if we get this done we don't have to worry about it the rest of the semester.

You: Good point.

Sam: My brother can drive us to my house if your mom can pick you up?

You: Sounds good!

Much of the next day at school is spent researching between classes and checking out library books about guitars, something you know nothing about. By the time the final bell rang, you had consumed so much information about guitars that you felt like you could probably play one if you picked it up. As you walked to the Senior parking lot you heard Sam call your name from across the lot. You turn around to see him running toward you, all legs and arms as his hair flew back in the wind. 

“Hey!” he says, out of breath.

“Hey, are you ready to go?” you ask, clutching the stack of library books in your arms.

“Yeah, I think Jake's car is in the back. We’re always so late in the mornings, drives me nuts.” he says with a hint of annoyance.

You shrug your shoulders and smile, remembering that little detail about his older brothers. His eyes flick down to the books in your arms, noticing you’re struggling to keep them all steady. “Oh shit, I’ll carry those.” he says, reaching for the stack.

“Oh, no it’s okay, I’ve got it.” you reply nervously. You’ve never had anyone offer to carry your books before, and you can feel yourself blushing.

“How about we half them?” he asks, grabbing a few books off the top of the hefty stack.

He starts to walk to the back of the parking lot, and once you arrive at the car you see Jake leaning against it, waiting, and clearly very annoyed. He looks a lot different than you remember him. His hair has grown out and his clothing style has matured.

He cuts his eyes at Sam from behind his dark-tinted sunglasses, “You’re late….” his eyes look down to the books in Sam’s arms. “Carrying her books, a nice touch brother.” 

“Shut up Jake.” Sam quips back. “I’m helping her carry them.”

Jake's eyes flash to you, his eyebrows raising slightly as he looks at you. His mouth starts to move as if he is going to say something, but he stops himself and purses his lips together, giving you one last glance as he turns on his heels to get into the car. 

You swallow nervously at the awkward exchange, and get into the backseat of the messy sedan. Sam throws his stuff into the back seat next to you and shuts the door, opting for the front seat. 

The late August air is billowing in through the open windows as Sam reaches to fidget with the radio volume. You laugh quietly as Jake smacks his hand away and raises his pointer finger. 

“How many times do I have to tell you to not touch my stereo when the king is playing?” Jake barked.

Sam scoffed. “The king? Why do you consider Clapton the king? I mean he’s good and all, but he’s no Townshend.”

“And there’s where you’re wrong, idiot.” Jake flicked his hand on the back of Sam’s head, making his hair fly up. 

“Fuck off, asshole!” Sam complained, wiping his hair back into place as best as he could in the blowing wind.

“Hey!” Jake yelled. “No cursing around the lady, do you have no manners?!” Jake kept his eyes on the road while craning his neck back so you could hear him. “Sorry my brother’s such a rude host.”

“Oh no no, you know I don’t care.” You laughed, because you were truly enjoying watching their discourse. Classic brotherly activity, just like they always had. 

The rest of the drive to their house is short and you’re thankful. Something about Jake’s presence had started to make you feel a little uneasy. You got a swirling feeling in your stomach and your mouth was about to dry out completely. The feeling is only further accentuated by his quick glances through the rear view mirror. He is studying you, but why?

You quickly look away, embarrassed that he caught you looking back. A small smirk crosses his lips, and the sight of it makes your heart skip a beat. Sam looks at him with a puzzled look before looking away and turning the radio up.

“Elvis is the king. Josh would agree with me.” Sam mumbles under his breath, crossing his arms over his chest.

A few minutes later you’re pulling into the driveway of their house. A house you have visited many times before, but never without the buffer of your parents. You get out and shut the door, watching Sam and Jake gather their things before joining you on the front porch. Jake unlocks the door and you all pile inside. It’s just the same as you remember, cozy and clean with just the right amount of clutter to make it feel lived-in. Jake looks at Sam and then to you, again like he was going to speak, but deciding against it at the last second. His eyes linger for just a moment, before he heads upstairs and the bedroom door closes.

“Has he always been this weird and I never noticed?” you jokingly ask Sam.

He gives you a strange look and shakes his head, “I don’t know what his deal is. Sorry about that.”

“Oh I don’t mind, all good.” you say dismissively. But you do mind, and you will be thinking about that look in the car, for the better part of the foreseeable future.

You and Sam spend the next several hours spread out on his living room floor, laying out books, papers, articles and notebooks with research and information, trying to create a timeline. You have created a solid outline for the paper portion of the project, but will have to put in more work on the actual poster board set up and model, as well as actually writing the paper. As you finish outlining the final section of the paper, you hear Jake coming down the stairs and you both turn your heads to look at him. 

Your blood runs cold when you realize he is dressed in nothing but his jeans. It feels almost wrong to see him like this, like you weren’t supposed to be witnessing it. You turn away quickly, focusing back on the books and tasks in front of you. When he makes his way into the kitchen you release a sigh of relief that you hope Sam didn’t notice. As you continue to work, the image of his bare chest flashes through your brain. You push it away and refocus, trying with all your might to regain your composure. 

A few minutes later he walks into the living room and positions himself on the couch, watching the two of you with an egotistical look as he scrolls on his phone mindlessly.

“What do you want? Go away.” Sam says aggressively.

“Mom said they will be home late and that I need to ‘supervise’ you.” Jake replies smugly with air quotes.

“Supervise? Supervise what?” Sam asks, practically yelling.

Just as Jake went to answer, the front door flew open. Josh waltzes into the living room loudly announcing his arrival. 

“Honey, I’m hooooome!” he exclaims.

He sees you on the floor next to Sam with Jake on the couch, and raises an eyebrow as he hangs his coat on the little metal hook by the door.

He looks over to you with a smile, “Y/N! What are you doing here? I haven't seen you in forever! How are you? How’re you liking highschool?” he asks. He has always been the more welcoming and talkative one of the twins. He always made a point to have a conversation with you at every gathering, noticing when you felt uncomfortable in larger crowds. Jake, not so much.

“Hey Josh! Me and Sam are partners for History class this semester. We’re working on our project. And… highschool is highschool. Nothing to report just yet.” you reply with a laugh.

“Well give it time, good to see you!” he says, bounding up the stairs. 

You look over to Sam as he shrugs his shoulders, and you can't help but feel Jake's eyes burning into the side of your head. 

“Do you mind if I get a glass of water?” you ask Sam, your voice cracking a little.

“No, go ahead.” he says, continuing to write the thought he was having, down onto the paper.

You stand and make your way into the kitchen, opening the cabinet that you know you’ll find the glasses in, and walking over to the fridge. You’d done this a hundred times before but now, your hands were shaking.

You open the door to grab the pitcher and pour the cold water into the glass. As you shut the door you are shocked to find Jake standing a few feet away leaning against the counter with a smug look on his face. His hair is dusting his shoulders, flipping up at the ends in soft little wisps. 

Your eyes travel the length of his body up and down, taking in the changes that have happened since the last time you saw him. Suddenly you are seeing him in a whole new light. The glow of the fluorescent lights above cast a soft shadow on the dips and curves of his abs, his torso a bit more broad across the shoulders. Hisshaggy brown hair is even longer now, hanging in his eyes as he crosses his arms across his chest.

He is…attractive. Not something you ever thought you would think about a Kiszka boy. Practically growing up together, you thought you would always just see them as friends. But apparently, that’s not the case anymore as you feel your eyes raking him up and down. 

You realize that you are staring at him and quickly look away, only to hear him chuckling under his breath, a smug grin on his face. You take a drink from your glass and nervously walk over to the sink. Your heart is beating fast at your sudden realization of how your body is reacting to his presence. You’ve got to play it cool. 

He walks over towards you, leaning on the countertop. “Why’re you breathing so heavy?” he asks with one eye closed.

“Drank too fast.” you reply, looking up at him, hoping he will believe you.

“Hmm. Whatever you say.” he says, pushing off the counter and walking back into the living room. Your heart is still pounding as you hear him walk away, and you hope that your lie was believable.  

You set your glass in the sink and just stare at it for a second, realization washing over you as you think about the interaction.

Oh god, you’re busted. He totally knows. 

Returning to the living room flustered beyond belief, you rejoin Sam on the floor and continue to work on your project. Jake is still perched on the couch playing on his phone, his corded headphones plugged in as his fingers tap against the couch cushions in time with whatever song he is listening to. You can’t help but feel his eyes on you, burning into the side of your head. You shake away the nervousness pulsing through you, and try to focus on the project, but you quickly realize it’s no use. 

About an hour later the doorbell rings, all three of your heads snapping up towards the sound.

“Oh yeah, Mom ordered pizza.” Jake says, jumping up to answer the door. He collects the boxes and tips the driver before walking to the kitchen. 

“You hungry?” Sam asks.

“Yeah, I could eat something.” you reply with a smile. 

He smiles back as he stands, extending his hand to help you off of the floor. You make your way into the kitchen and stand around the island as Jake takes plates out of the cabinet. 

“Sam, go tell Josh there's food.” Jake says with a stern tone.

Sam rolls his eyes and trudges up the stairs with a grumble. You swallow nervously, realizing you are yet again left alone with Jake. He opens the pizza box and looks up at you. You immediately look down at your hands and again you hear him laugh under his breath.

“Why do you keep doing that?” you ask, a little annoyed that he thinks making you nervous is a game.

“Doing what?” he replies facetiously.

“Waiting for me to look at you and then laughing when I look away.” you respond.

He gives you a playful side smile as he answers, “Because…you get all nervous and blush. It’s cute. I’m starting to think you have a little crush on me.”

“No I don’t!” you reply, your cheeks warming in embarrassment of his accusation.

“Hey, it’s okay if you do. I wouldn’t be mad.” he replies, handing you an empty plate with a cocky look and a glint of mischief in his eyes.

Before you can say anything, Sam and Josh bound into the kitchen and are so loud that it breaks the tension between you and Jake almost immediately. Thank god.

As Josh and Sam begin to tear into the open boxes, Jake raises his voice, “Hey!” Everyone stops what they are doing, turning to look at him. Returning his voice to a normal tone he continues, “Ladies first guys, come on.”

Your face blushes into a bright crimson yet again as all three of the boys turn to look at you in apology, urging you to go ahead. You quickly walk over and grab two slices, before finding a seat at their kitchen table. You sit just staring at your plate trying to process everything that just happened, your mind racing with a hundred different emotions knowing it will be seconds before you’re face to face with all of them again.

How does he know I think he’s cute?

Why didn’t I deny it again? 

He wouldn’t be upset if I had a crush on him? What does that even mean??

The rest of the guys join around the table and begin their conversations, talking and laughing about one thing or another as you eat. Jake is sitting across from you and you have done remarkably well not looking at him one time throughout the entirety of the meal. You can tell he notices, too. 

As Josh asks about your History project, Sam starts to explain your selected topic. You listen intently as he talks about all of the research you’ve done, and just as you go to speak, you feel something slide across your foot, knowing instantly what it is. Your cheeks heat again and you see a small, hardly noticeable smile cross Jake's lips. 

You pull your leg back so that the contact is lost, doing your best to soothe the flames on your chest. 

“Do you know much about guitars?” Josh asks, directing his eyes to you. 

“Oh, um, no actually. You’re gonna laugh at me but I’ve actually never even held one.” you answer, taking a sip from your glass of water.

“You know, Jake could probably teach you a few things if you were interested.” he replies, and you nearly choke. The water has slipped past your throat in just the wrong way, causing you to make a spectacle of yourself.

You feel Jake’s foot slide across the side of your ankle, soft and warm as you try to regain your composure.

“Yeah, you just call me if you’re interested.” Jake says with that same sultry side smile.

You know his words mean something different than what Josh intended and your heart starts to beat quickly as his eyes stare into yours. You notice how pretty of a honey brown they are, and the length of his dark lashes nearly touch his cheeks when he blinks. It nearly chokes you up again.

You nod to dismiss the conversation, and Josh starts in on another topic almost immediately. 

Throughout the rest of the dinner, you feel his foot twisting with yours trying to get your attention but you do your best to ignore him, not once sparing him a glance. What does he want from me anyways?

You all finish up and pile your plates in the sink and you and Sam return back to the living room to keep working. Josh and Jake are in the kitchen cleaning up, bickering back and forth as the doorbell rings. 

“I’ll get it!” Sam yells out, and he walks to the door, opening it to reveal his friend Danny.

“Crap, I forgot to text you. I’m trying to get this History project done so we don’t have to worry about it.” he says, letting Danny in the door.

“Hi Danny.” You say standing up to greet him. He returns the hello and turns back to Sam, “I can go. No big deal.”

Sam looks conflicted and turns to you, “Do you think we have done enough for today?” he asks, twisting his fingers together. You can tell he doesn’t want Danny to leave.

“Yeah, I think we have a really good head start. I just need to text my mom to come get me. Shouldn’t be too long.” you say, pulling your phone from your pocket. 

“Well, we were just gonna play some music in the garage, you can stay if you want to?” he says, a glimmer of hope in his eyes.

“Oh, it’s Friday night…I don’t want to intrude on your plans…” you say, giving him another out.

Jake comes into the living room from around the corner, “Think of it like research for your project. You need to see one in action if you’re gonna try and write about it, right?” he asks, shrugging his shoulders with a smirk.

Smooth…

You look at Sam who is shrugging and nodding his head in agreement.

You bite your lips inward and turn back to Jake, hesitating for a second, “Okay, just for a little bit. I do want to see you play – I mean, I want to see all of you play – I didn’t mean–” you stammer, stumbling over your words. You actually aren’t sure what you meant, but you think it was probably close to the first thing. 

“Bitchin’.” he replies, flashing the tiniest wink at you.

Jake places a hand on your shoulder and lets it slide across the top of your back as he makes his way upstairs. You shove your phone back into your pocket and take a deep breath, unsure of what you’d just been talked into.

“You can follow us out to the garage, but grab your jacket, there’s no heat out there.” Sam says, waving his hand to follow after him.

You follow him and Danny out the side door and into the stand alone garage at the end of the gravel path. He turns on the fluorescent lights, and they start to buzz as they warm up. You see a drum kit, a bass and an electric guitar all hooked up to amps and you turn to look at Sam. “When did all this happen? This wasn’t here last time I was here!” you ask, shocked to see the set up.

“We kinda got serious about it over the summer. We’re gonna try and make a go of it I think. We have some songs worked up, and Danny is our new drummer.” he answers, holding out his hands to present Danny like he’s on a silver platter.  

“That’s so cool!” You reply. “Danny, I didn’t know you played.”

“Play a little bit of everything, actually. The guitar’s my one true love, but these guys needed some percussion, so I decided to fine tune my skills to help them out. Just kinda… stuck around, huh, Sam?” He replies, taking a seat behind his kit. 

“Yeah, and you’re not going anywhere.” Sam demands as he slings his strap over his head. You found it endearing that the biggest smile came across Danny’s face, telling you that he felt proud to be playing with them.

You sit down on the old faded red couch and cross your legs as you watch them turn on the amps and fiddle with their instruments. A few minutes later the door opens and Jake and Josh come in to join you. Josh sits next to you on the couch as Jake throws the guitar strap over his shoulder. He checks his amp and grabs his pick as he adjusts the strap on his shoulder. He has on a hoodie now, but that doesn't stop you from picturing how he looked in the kitchen earlier. Almost as if he knew what you were thinking, a smile flashes across his lips as he turns the knob on his guitar. Hearing his guitar roar to life, you feel a spark travel through you. He is so concentrated, and the way his hands are moving across the strings is bringing back that swirling feeling in your stomach from earlier. He is in his element, and he wanted you to see it.

For the next hour they play to an audience of just you, Josh eventually getting up to join them for a few covers. You didn’t even know Josh could sing, let alone like that. You’re actually glad you stayed. They sound good, better than you expected, and it's nice to actually be doing something other than homework on a Friday night. 

Bouncing your foot along with the music you look at each of the guys, examining their hands and the movements they are making to create the sounds you’re hearing. You find your gaze fixed upon Jake and his hands, watching him for far longer than any of the others. When you realize and look up you see his eyes trained on you, watching you just as intently as you were watching him. He nods his head in a ‘come here’ motion, and you reel back slightly. What?

“Come over here.” he says, his demeanor a little softer than earlier as his brows furrow.

You stand nervously and approach him. He slings the guitar strap over his head before placing it over your shoulder. It hangs heavily around your neck, as he smiles. “Okay, grab the neck,” he says, picking up your hand and placing it on the frets, “...and this arm…” he says, pulling it through the strap, “Rests here. There, now you’ve held a guitar.” he smiles. 

The feeling of his hands on your body in any capacity is enough to send your nervous system into overdrive. You feel like you might faint, but quickly reel it in so that you don’t make a fool of yourself. He walks around to the front of the guitar and places your fingers on the strings in a specific pattern. 

“Okay, hold those there. It might hurt a little but it’ll go away.” he says, pulling the dark green guitar pick from between his teeth and handing it to you. “Okay, take this and strum the strings.” 

You grab it from his hand, examining the green speckled plastic, still warm from his lips. You do as he says and the note rings out. A smile crosses your face and his as it echoes through the garage. You can't help but notice the shine in his eyes and the dimple in his cheek. A look of pride. 

“Hey! You did it! You’ll be replacing Jake in no time!” Josh jokes from his stool. You look over to Sam who has his hands on his hips and an annoyed look on his face. 

“Jake, isn’t like, your girlfriend coming over or something…” Sam asks pointedly.

Jake doesn’t answer, but he steps backwards from you, realizing the way things must look.

Your eyes flick back to him, noticing his face is red, and you try to break the tension. “Thanks Jake, I feel like I am definitely qualified to write about this now.” you joke, removing the strap from around your neck and handing the guitar back to him. Your hand brushes his in the exchange and you feel that spark again. You place the tiny green pick in his hand and you watch him slide it into his pocket, as he returns back to his place on the rug.

As you make your way back to the couch you pull your phone from your pocket and send a quick text to your mom letting her know she could come pick you up. You spend the next twenty minutes watching them play and goof around with different songs. They all look really happy, smiles plastered to their faces as they laugh and try to sing louder than each other. When she texts you that she is here, you stand up and zip your coat to prepare to leave. 

“Are you leaving?” Jake is the first to ask, and you see a look cross his face that must be embarrassment, realizing that he has come across eager. 

“Yeah, my mom is here to pick me up. I just need to get my things from inside.” you answer.

“Oh, I’ll walk you inside.” Sam says, quickly throwing his purple bass onto the stand. You see Jake's mouth open, but he closes it and steps back biting his cheek.

Was he going to say something? What was he going to say?

“Thanks for letting me stay and hang out with you guys! Can’t wait until you’re headlining an arena some day!” you laugh, waving at all of them and stepping over the threshold of the door. You close the door gently behind you peering through the pane of glass to see Jake watching you go, giving you his own version of goodbye with his eyes.  

As you lay in your bed that night, the memory of your impromptu guitar lesson played through your head, closely followed by a pair of piercing brown eyes willing you to stay just a little longer. Against your will and better judgment you fall asleep that night thinking about Jake Kiszka. 

-

The next several Fridays were spent at the Kiszka house. Your parents were thrilled that you had formed a friendship with the guys, and his parents had extended an open invitation for your welcome into their home whenever you wanted. Fridays turned into Saturdays, which turned into going to hangout with Sam most days after school. 

You and Sam had become extremely close friends, even after the project was all said and done Freshman year. You and Sam even went to prom together Junior year. At a certain point you thought Sam might have feelings for you, but when you started dating Michael Carvey later that year, that suspicion went away. 

By summer of Senior year, Michael was a passing memory and you and Sam were closer than ever. Their band actually had taken off. They were on the path to even record an EP if everything worked out. You had never been happier for them. You had seen first hand just how hard they worked to get there. You even helped Sam pass Calculus so that his parents would let him go play bar gigs in Detroit til 2AM. He was your best friend, and you would do anything for him. You just wanted to see him succeed, and he was. 

While Sam never truly came out with his feelings for you after Michael, you knew. He knew. It was unspoken. You spent practically all of your time with him, but you didn’t feel that way about him, really. The way you felt about Sam wasn’t brotherly, per se, but more like a protective and territorial friend that you couldn’t imagine your life without. He was special, in a lot of ways. He made you feel safe, he made you laugh, and sometimes when he’d fall asleep on the couch beside you with his head on your shoulder, you let him stay that way until you fell asleep, too. 

Then there was the time Josh shoved the two of you under mistletoe one Christmas Eve, jokingly holding your bodies together until one of you planted a kiss on the other. You remember laughing hysterically as you both fought it, Sam’s long hair sticking out from underneath his oversized Santa hat. 

“You have to kiss, it’s the rule! St. Nick says so!” Josh had bellowed through the crowded house. 

“Shut up, Josh, damn! I’m not kissing my best friend!” Sam’s face was beet red as he laughed and pushed Josh along with you. 

“Even more reason for it to not be weird! Just do it!” Josh yelled.

The memory of Sam being the gentleman that he was, and deciding to grab you up in the sweetest hug, placing a tender kiss right on your cheek instead of your lips would be burned into your mind forever. You knew he wanted to do it for real, but he didn’t want to risk it making things weird in your friendship. And you were happy he stuck with the kiss on your cheek. It would never work between you and Sam. It couldn’t. 

What Sam didn’t know, and what you could never tell him, was why. You knew it would ruin everything. 

It was Jake, and it had been since that day in the garage. You thought that he was just your first real crush, and that when you had a boyfriend that feeling would go away. But it didn’t. It never did. Throughout the years it was a look here, or a touch there. He would say or do something, anything to keep you hanging on and it always worked. You both knew it. But you also both knew nothing could ever come of it. You couldn’t do that to Sam. As the years passed, you grew distant from Jake as he and Josh went off to college. You and Sam grew even closer, and now Senior year was drawing to a close quicker than you could blink.

— 

MAY 2017

“Hello?” you answered your phone, balancing it between your shoulder and your ear.

“Hey… did they tell you?” Sam asked.

“Who? Tell me what?” you ask, sitting down on the edge of your bed.

You hear Sam laugh, “Our parents think they are sneaky and are throwing us a surprise graduation party.” 

“Oh, well I guess it's not a surprise now, huh?” you laugh, shaking your head.

“I hate surprises!” he pauses, “I only found out because I heard my mom talking to Josh on the phone.”

“Oh, is Josh coming home for this?” you ask, knowing that if Josh was going, Jake wouldn’t be too far behind. At least, you hoped.

“Yeah I think they both are. Lucky us…” he says in an annoyed tone.

“Yeah, well, let's just get through the actual graduation before we worry about the party, okay?” you ask, trying to calm him down.

“Alright, you’re right. I’ll talk to you later.” he says hanging up.

You throw your phone onto your bed and bring your hand to your chest. 

You haven't seen Jake in months. A feeling of anxiety washes over you at the thought. You have kept up with him on social media, but he hasn’t been home when you’ve gone to hang out with Sam lately. They just finalized their EP and he and Josh have been in Detroit working on the tour schedule. 

You got into The University of Michigan for the fall term and you are so excited you can hardly wait. Sam decided against college, following Jake. He wants to see where the band will take him, knowing that if he decides to ever end it, college will still be an option. Danny did the same, shortly followed by Josh dropping out too. Jake only attended the first year of college, deciding that his band was his dream, and doing everything he could to make that a reality. They were going to make it, you just had a feeling.

–

A few days later as you are putting on your graduation dress, you stop and look at yourself in the mirror. You remember standing in this exact spot the day you started highschool, wondering who you would be, and what you would look like in four years. A lot has changed since that moment. You have filled out, become more of a woman than a young girl. You are smart, 5th in your class. You have a partial scholarship to your top choice college and a whole bright future ahead of you. You have had a few boyfriends, a few different hair styles and a few friends come and go from your life. But one thing has remained constant in those passing four years, the forbidden and undeniable tug in your heart for Jake Kiszka. 

You push the thought from your mind as you grab your cap and gown from the closet and head downstairs to meet your parents. They think they have pulled a fast one on you with this whole surprise party thing, and you let them believe it. You know they are going to miss you terribly when you leave for college, so you could let them have this.

Hours later as you strut across the stage to accept your diploma, you notice a face in the crowd that tugs on that heartstring once again. You wondered if he would be here. If he would actually show up. He looks different now, his hair longer, grown out to the tops of his shoulders. His face is a little more structured and defined, his eyes somehow darker and more brooding. His lips, more plump and inviting.  

Stop, this is not his moment. 

As the Principal hands you your diploma you exit the stage and take your seat. You are proud of your accomplishments and who you’ve become, and you find yourself wondering if he is, too.

—

As you pull into the driveway at the Kiszka house, you see cars lined up all up and down the streets, in typical Kiszka fashion they have invited the whole town. As your family makes their way inside everyone rushes towards you and congratulates you on your achievement. You spend the next twenty minutes greeting everyone and thanking them for coming and for all of their support over the past few years. 

As your parents get tangled up in conversation, you make your way to the kitchen to see if you can sneak yourself a drink. As you step into the kitchen, you could almost feel his presence. Standing, waiting. Almost as if he knew this would be your first stop. A soft smile pulls across his face as he extends a red solo cup to you. You smile and grasp it, taking a sip that nearly chokes you.

“Oh god, Jake….What in the world is this?” you say disgusted.

“A little bit of everything. You better get used to it, college girl.” he says playfully, smiling a little bit harder now.

You roll your eyes with a smile and take another sip, knowing it's only a matter of time until you’re whisked away by another family member. You try to savor this moment with him, just the two of you.

“I didn’t think you would come. Haven’t seen you in a while.” you say casually.

“You thought I would miss this?” he asks with a dramatic hand to his heart, almost as if you’d hurt him.

“I don’t know… You’ve just been busy, with the EP and the tour and all…” you trail off, biting at your bottom lip.

He pushes off the counter and looks behind him, before bringing a hand to the side of your face, rubbing his thumb over your cheek bone. His breath hitches and he pauses for a second, just looking at you and taking you in.

“You’re so beautiful.” he breathes, his hand sliding off your face and down your arm. His fingertips graze yours as he turns and walks away without another word.

JAKE POV

You had to go. You had to get out of there. You walk out of the kitchen, the smell of her perfume still lingering in your senses. You can smell it on your hand. The hand that touched her perfectly soft face, just seconds ago. You knew if you stood there for one second longer it would be over. Everything you have fought for years, gone in an instant. You would kiss her, and it would ruin everything. So instead you left her there, with the only thing that you could force out of your mouth. 

‘You’re so beautiful.’

And god, was she. She always was. Even that day so long ago, sprawled out on your living room floor next to Sam. Perfect, innocent, beauty. You haven't let that day slip from your mind even once. She was the prettiest thing you’d ever seen. You felt compelled to be near her. You couldn’t stay away.

It’s been four years, and with each passing day you watched her change and grow and turn into the beautiful woman that was standing in front of you, and even after all this time and everything that had happened between you, you still couldn’t have her. 

You remember the day Sam told you that he liked her. It was just a few short weeks after that night in the garage. You were crushed, but he could never know that. You knew you could never have her, simply because he wanted her. She was his best friend. It was forbidden. So you watched from afar, wishing it was you laughing with her on the phone each night. Texting her the funny things that happened in your day, or just hanging out and going to the movies together. Anything with her. But it wasn’t you. It was Sam. The worst part of it all, was knowing she didn’t feel the same for him, and trying to help him see it himself. 

You both knew it would never be more than stolen glances, and secrets. Even if you both wanted it. 

There would always be Sam.

—

Stepping back into your bedroom you shut the door and walk over to your dresser. You open the tiny wooden box on top and dig out the joint you rolled earlier in the day, thanking yourself for thinking ahead. You put it in the front pocket of your shirt along with a lighter. You close the box and glance over to the card sitting on your desk. You have been debating on whether or not you were going to give it to her all day. You look away and walk back to the door, twisting the knob and leaving the room to rejoin the party downstairs. 

The party is starting to die down, a lot of your parents' friends have already left, but a few linger still. You join your siblings and friends in the basement, knowing that Y/N will be down there. You run your fingers through your hair quickly, and take a deep breath as you head down the steps, your boots echoing on the staircase. 

Everyone is hanging out, lounging on the couches and chairs, even a few people are spread across the floor. You see Y/N on the couch next to Sam, and you look away as you sit next to Josh on the floor. He is right in the middle of telling a story in his usual overly animated style, his hands flailing through the air. You never really understood how he did that. You were never too good at storytelling. 

You lean back on your arms and cross your legs in front of you and you listen, trying to focus on him, but your mind fixated on her. You look around the room and your eyes meet hers. She bites her lip into her mouth as she looks at you. You wished she wouldn’t do that. You find yourself thinking of how her lips would feel between your own teeth. How she would taste. How her tongue would feel on yours. It wouldn’t be the first time you thought of it, however. Her eyes dart away from yours just as Sam begins to speak. 

Your eyes move down her body, focusing on the light reflecting off of her bare legs. They look so smooth, they are practically shining, even in the dim lighting of the basement. You force yourself to look away, and start a side conversation with Josh, but the whole time all you can think about is her and how she looked at you in the kitchen. How she has always looked at you. How you looked at each other. As the years passed by, the stolen glances and quick peeks had blossomed into eye contact that made you feel like falling straight into the pits of hell. Like she was speaking to you with her eyes, telling you all the things she could never say out loud. Would never say out loud. Earlier in the kitchen was the closest you’d ever been, the feeling of her breath warm on your hand still giving you a cold chill. The feeling of her body reacting to your touch…

You have purposefully stayed away from her for the past few months. You couldn’t trust yourself, and you have thankfully been busy with the EP and planning the tour. You have spent a lot of time in Detroit and have scarcely been home, but that didn't mean you weren’t thinking of her. She was always there. 

Everytime you would come home you would hope she was there hanging out with Sam, just wanting one look from her to hold you over another few weeks. But she never really was. So when your mom called and asked if you could come home for Sam’s graduation, you didn’t hesitate to jump in your car and head home immediately. You knew she would be there, and here she was, even more beautiful than the last time you saw her.

Knowing that you needed to get her out of your head before you acted on it, you stood up and walked back upstairs, making your way to the back porch. You position yourself on the old wicker patio set in the corner and pull the tightly rolled joint from your shirt pocket. Placing your feet on the table in front of you, you block the wind and light the end of the joint, hoping it will ease your mind just a little bit. Taking a long drag you breathe in as deeply as your lungs can take and let it slip slowly past your lips.

You tilt your head back onto the chair and stare up at the night sky, counting each star and trying to pick out the patterns you recognize. A smile crosses your lips as you find the little dipper. It always makes you think of her. 

Her sophomore year, Fourth of July. You pointed it out to her. Somehow she had never seen it. It was the first time you held her completely, trying to position her the right way to be able to see it. 

“I can’t find it, are you sure it’s there?” she asked, struggling to make out the slightly dim constellation. 

“Yes! See, right there. Directly at the end of my fingertip.” Your hands held her shoulders tightly, maneuvering her to stand directly in eye line with it. “Those, then there, and there, that makes the Dipper part. Then that one, and that one, they make the handle. See the North star? It’s right at the end.”  You explained, standing behind her and leaning your head down low beside her ear. The smell of her shampoo mixed with her perfume instantly made you dizzy, the aroma of her making all the rest of your senses stand at full attention.

“Oh, there it is! I see it, Jake! I see it!” her voice was squeaky and excited when she finally made it out, her hand gripping yours tightly when she did. 

“What, did you think I was lying to you?” you asked, her hand still holding yours as she turned around to face you.

She titled her chin up in the air, giving you a tight grin. “Maybe.”

You’d huffed through your nose, the atrocity of the thought that you would ever do anything but tell her the truth nearly knocking the breath out of you. Your hand squeezed hers tightly, the warmth of your fingertips contrasting against her cold skin. You let your other hand bravely grip at her ribs, your hand burning a hole through the thin cotton of her shirt. The tiny gasp that escaped her lips made you lose your breath, the first time you ever intentionally touching her somewhere that wasn’t common.

“I’d never lie to you. Never will.” you said, making yourself a promise you weren’t sure if you’d keep, but damning yourself if you ever tried.

“You promise?” she breathed as her hand met yours on her ribs, her words a whisper on the wind that blew through her hair.

“...I promise.”

The feeling of her hand dropping from yours didn’t stop it. The perfect moment. Her excitement was evident as she jumped around, wondering if you could show her more constellations, and you did. But none would ever be as important, none would ever hold as much meaning as that one. 

Still yet, you can always find it. It’s always there. Just like her, in your heart.

A low rumble sounds through the house as you hear Sam and Danny playing around with a guitar in the basement. Typically you would join in, but tonight you are perfectly fine right here staring up at the stars imagining what if. Just far enough away to clear your mind but still close to her. You can feel her near you. 

After a few minutes you hear the door open and tilt your head to see who it is. You sit up a little when you see that it's her. You knew she would come looking for you. She always does, and you’re always waiting. 

She walks over and sits down on the chair next to you, crossing her legs on the table just like yours. You both just look at each other, no words needed to be said. This was a familiar occurrence between the two of you. Many times over the last few years you have found yourself in this exact spot sharing a joint together, each time as if no time has passed at all. No talking, just being together, existing in the same space. But tonight was different. Something felt different. 

Your eyes flick to hers, and you pass it to her, her nimble fingers taking it from yours. You watch as she presses the paper to her lips inhaling and closing her eyes as she tilts her head back to look at the sky, much in the same way you just were. 

The smoke billows from her lips and you watch her chest rise and fall. The moon is bright, not a single cloud to dull its shine as it glows across her skin. You swallow thickly as you try to stifle the situation in your jeans inconspicuously. She passes it back to you, and you press it to your lips, knowing that the shared saliva on the tip is the closest you’ll ever get to tasting her.

“Jake?” she finally speaks up.

You turn your head to face her, involuntarily almost. Your body is betraying you. “Yeah?”

“Did you mean what you said earlier?” she asks nervously, letting her eyes look into yours.

“What?” you ask, confused, pulling your attention away from her lips and back to her eyes.

“In the kitchen, when you said…” she trails off. 

You let a shy smile cross your face. “Yeah I meant it. You are beautiful. You always have been and… I’m really proud of you.”  you confess reaching your hand out to run your fingers over the small stretch of skin on her arm. You see her face soften and it takes every ounce of your strength to not kiss her right then.

You aren’t sure if it’s the alcohol, the weed or both, but you got brave and now the truth is out.

“I’m proud of you too, you know.” she says, taking the joint back from your fingers. She takes a pull of it and hands it back to you. “I’m proud of all of you of course, but you… it’s different. The EP is so good. People love it and I know why… it came from here.” she says, gently placing her hand over your heart. The electrifying sensation zapping through your body just as quickly as her hand pulled away. Your hand instinctively reaches for the spot hers was just in, before you could even realize what you were doing. 

The music inside is growing louder and you can hear Josh starting to sing. They will be down there for a while. If you’re going to do it, it has to be now. 

“Hey, stay here, I have to get something. I’ll be right back.” You hand her the quickly dwindling joint and sprint upstairs to find the card you wrote her. 

There it sits on your desk, waiting and hoping to be opened. You grab it and shove it into the back pocket of your jeans before you make your way back downstairs and back out onto the porch. Your heart is pounding in your chest as you rejoin her. You can tell that she is feeling the effects of the weed, as she is not trying to avoid eye contact anymore. Her eyes are locked in on your every movement. 

You pull the blue envelope out of your pocket and nervously hand it to her. Her brow furrows and she accepts it, reading her name across the front in your messy handwriting. 

“Jake…” she complains, pulling the card out of the envelope. 

“Just open it…” you say nervously. 

Her eyes shoot up when she opens the card and notices it. You feel like your heart stops beating for a second as she realizes what it is. You let out a silent breath as you see the corners of her lips turning upward into a smile. 

Taped inside the card was a small green guitar pick. The exact same one you used that night in the garage. The one you have carried with you in your wallet every day since. 

“Jake, you kept this?” she asked, rhetorically, running her finger over top of it.

“I’ve had it with me everyday. Kept it in my wallet. I know it’s stupid… I just…” you stammer, letting your words trail off.

“It’s not stupid Jake… but why are you giving it to me, you’ve kept it all this time…” she asks, confused on why you would give her something you’ve kept for so long.

Your face turns a dark crimson as you tell her the reason, “Well, I have carried that with me everyday for four years, like… a little piece of you was always with me. Now, I want you to have it. Carry a piece of me… with you. So you don’t forget me when you go away. You have always been my first pick, here’s your proof.” you say nervously.

She looks down, her eyes filled with tears, and smooths her pointer finger over the pick. She closes the card and her eyes flick up to yours. They are different, sad, but dark. She places the card on the table and stands up, walking to lean against the railing that overlooks the ravine next to your childhood home. 

You stand and join her, feeling like you have messed up. Like you shouldn’t have said that.

“Hey, I’m sorry I didn’t mean to upset yo–” you are cut off as her hands cup your jaw, and finally after years of dreaming about it, you feel her lips pressed against yours…warm and sweet. Your hand snakes up and finds its place on the back of her neck, pulling her closer into you as your other hand meets the small of her back. 

It’s heaven, ecstasy, pure bliss, any beautiful and mind blowing word you could conjure would never be able to explain the feeling coursing through your veins. You can feel every emotion that neither of you could ever explain, being described perfectly as your lips meld with hers. Her soft, perfect lips. Everything you’ve ever wanted.  

She pulls away, far too soon. Your body is still gravitating to hers. Her hands release your face and smooth down the front of your chest, before pulling away. You can tell that neither of you wanted it to end, but you both knew it had to. At least you had this. This one perfect moment with her. 

She pulls you in for a hug, but this hug is not happy. This hug is sad, and longing. This hug says ‘I will miss you’, and ‘I’m not ready to leave you’. 

“The best gift. Thank you, Jake.” she whispers as she pulls away, letting you go and slipping away towards the back door. 

–

HER POV

You sit on the bed in your childhood bedroom, knowing that in a few short weeks this will all be a distant memory. You will be living away from home, no family, no friends. No Sam. No Jake. The thought is dreadful, but you are excited to start new. 

You were so overwhelmed by Jake’s card tonight. The pick… You can’t believe he kept it, after all this time. Why he kept it... It nearly shattered you. You couldn’t even bring yourself to read what he had written in the card in that moment, knowing you would burst into tears. You had to stand up and walk away, but he was there, ready to comfort you, thinking that he had done something wrong when in reality he did everything right. The kiss. You can’t even put it into words. Your fingertips danced across your bottom lip as you imagined it again and again, the feeling of what you’d longed for for so many years, finally come true. It was everything. You hoped he could feel how much you cared for him. 

So now you find yourself here, sitting on your bed, staring at the card in front of you, willing yourself to read the words he has written, just for you. You open the card, seeing the pick taped inside, and his perfectly sloppy handwriting.  

Hey college girl,

Proud of you for being a smartypants. I always knew you were smarter than me. But I do have some advice for you, since I am older and therefore wiser, ha ha. 

Skip at least 1 class a month to go do something fun.

Don’t waste too much of your time perfecting your homework, C’s get degrees…

Never go anywhere alone. If you ever find yourself alone, I’m only a phone call away.

You laugh at his advice, it is so perfectly Jake. Written messily underneath the pick you see his parting line. 

I’ve kept a piece of you with me, and now a piece of me will be with you. Don’t forget me.

All my love, 

Jake

You close the card and put it on your night stand as you pull the blankets over your head and turn off the lamp. As you lie alone with your thoughts on what is supposed to be a happy day, you cry yourself to sleep knowing that you could never forget him. Not even if you wanted to.

All his love…

–

AUGUST 2017

“Where do you want this?” Sam asks, holding up your full length mirror.

“How about near the closet somewhere?” you answer, watching him saunter across your dorm room.

Sam graciously offered to help you and your parents move your things in. He was leaving for tour in a few days and he wanted to spend every last second together before you were both separated from each other. You spent practically all summer together, hanging out, going to the lake, watching them practice for tour. The summer went by too quickly, but you knew it would. Things were changing, Sam became more and more busy with the band, and you were busy preparing everything for your move and classes. When he offered to help you move in you accepted, knowing it would probably be the last time you saw him for a long time. 

“Okay honey, that's everything.  Only need to unpack these boxes of random stuff, and you will be all moved in.” your mom says, teary eyed. 

“Thanks mom, I couldn’t have done all of this without you, really.” you say pulling her in for a hug. 

Your dad follows behind her, giving you his signature bear hug. “You call us if you need anything. I mean it.” he says sternly.

“I will dad, I promise.” you reply and with that they leave you to your new life as a college student. 

You stand in your room, staring at the door, as Sam starts to speak. “Are you okay?” he asks nervously. You feel his arm encircling your shoulders and pulling you in for a hug.

“Yeah, I’m okay, just a little bit sad. Everyone is leaving me.” you reply.

“Not really, they are only an hour and a half away.” he says, trying to calm your nerves.

“Not just them, you too.” you say.

“I’m not leaving you! We are just going away for a few months. It will go by quickly. I can come visit as soon as we get back! Or maybe you can come see a show or…” he trails off.

“Plus, you can call me or text me whenever you want. You know I always answer you.” he smiles. “Dont, be sad. You’re too pretty to be sad.”

You snap your head to look at him, he has never said something like that to you.

“What?” he asks, a little surprised.

“Well… you never say that kind of stuff to me, Sam.” you say curiously. 

“Yeah I know, but I’ve been thinking…” he says. “This has just been the best summer…”

You nod your head, encouraging him to continue his thought.

“Do you remember the day we got partnered up Freshman year?” he asks. 

“Yeah?” you reply.

“When I found out you were my partner I was so excited. But I tried to play it cool. I just thought you were soooo pretty.” he laughs, running a hand through his hair.

He starts to unpack one of the boxes full of random items as he continues, “The night you came over, I didn’t even know how to handle what I was feeling, you were so smart, and funny. I couldn’t understand why I never saw it before. I mean, we knew each other for years, but I had never noticed that side of you.” he says, placing books on your little book shelf. 

“I was so excited you stayed to watch us jam in the garage. I wanted to impress you. A few weeks later I admitted to myself that I liked you. I even asked Jake for advice. None of it worked, obviously. ” he smiles shrugging with his shoulders.

Jake knew? Why didn’t he tell you?

“I worked up all my courage to ask you to Prom junior year, I was still nervous though. I was going to try to kiss you that night. I clearly didn't...” he laughed.

“Then when you started dating Michael, I had the answer I needed. You obviously didn’t feel the same way about me. I put my feelings aside and continued to just be your best friend. I was fine with that. I’ve been fine with that. But now, we’re leaving, and you’re starting school and it just feels like I had to tell you. You had to know, ya know, if you didn’t already.”

“Sam…” you drag his name out. 

“I know, I know, so typical. Guy falls in love with his best friend…” he laughs.

“In love?” you ask shocked.

“Of course…how could I not? But… I know it’s not like that for you. Or else I feel like this  would have happened long before now.” he says, closing the drawer of your nightstand. 

He knows, he gets it. But he doesn’t know why. 

“You are my best friend Sam...Practically my brother. I love you, you know that. But I love you like my family.” you say, ashamed, and knowing that you are crushing him. 

“I figured that’s what you would say. There are no hard feelings, I promise.” he says with a smile. But you know it's a lie.

“Are you sure, I feel so stupid…” you reply.

“No, you’re not stupid. I promise. I mean you’re the one going to college here...” he laughs.

“Sam you got into HARVARD.” you laugh.

“Yeah…wasn’t for me…” you both laugh and the tension melts away.

This summer had been good to Sam. He’d grown up a lot. He’d matured, filled out a little, became more confident in himself. You had to admit, and only to yourself, that you’d caught yourself on more than one occasion letting your eyes linger on him a little longer than you’d meant to, especially after a few drinks were swirling in your system. 

His glances made your heart flutter, the feeling of his hugs making you feel…something… but you had chased those feelings away more quickly than they had even come. They weren’t real. And they were nowhere near the same as the feelings Jake gave you. 

Once you’d learned that he was the first of the two of you to lose his virginity, you had to admit, you felt the tiniest pang of jealousy. The quickest fleeting thought of ‘shouldn’t that have been with me’? You surprised yourself with the thought, always having the notion that maybe you and Sam would reach that point in your lives when you’d just decide to take that step together, both of you being so comfortable with the other. But it never happened, and you now were displeased with the idea of ever having thought that. Sam was your best friend…

A little while later, you are unpacking the last box and you see all of the pictures you selected for your bulletin board. You grab the thumb tacks and the stack of photos and mementos and turn to put them up. 

“Oh, I can do that. I’m good at collaging.” Sam jokes. 

You hand him the stack and turn back to your bottomless pit of a last box. You carry a few items to the closet, and peek over your shoulder to check on his progress. 

“Looks good Sammy!” you yell behind you.

When you return to the room you see him sitting on the bed reading something. The blood drains from your face as you see exactly what it is. 

“What the fuck is this?” he asks, you can feel the venom in his tone.

You walk over to him and snatch the card out of his hands and tuck it under your arm. Ignoring his question. But you know it’s too late. He read it. 

“What is that? I know it's from Jake… I could recognize that handwriting anywhere!” he demands.

“Nothing, Sam! He just gave me a card at that graduation party! It wasn’t even supposed to be in that box. I don’t know why it’s in there. Must have been an accident.” you say, tossing it in the small trash can by your desk. 

You can see his body relax as he watches the folded blue card hit the bottom of the can, and with it the entirety of your heart. 

You never thought that the first thing you would learn in college would be that your best friend is in love with you. Only to be quickly followed by him reading his own brother's private confession, meant for your eyes only. He changes the subject quickly so you know he didn’t read into it too much, and you’re thankful. The last thing you want to do is try to explain. 

Another hour or so of packing and talking and it’s time for Sam to go. 

“You sure you don’t wanna stay here with me tonight? So I don’t spend my first night alone?” you teased, wondering if he would think about it too hard. 

“Please don’t tempt me with a good time…” he sneered, scrunching his nose up as he laid back across your bed. The two of you laughed, as you joined him. 

“I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I’ll be fine.” you breathe, throwing your arms above your head while the weight of his words from earlier finally sink in. You bite your tongue into the side of your mouth. “I can’t believe you said you’re in love with me.” you tried to keep your tone light and airy.

He rolls over onto his side, propping his head up on his elbow to look you head-on. “You’re the only girl I’ve ever really cared about, Y/N. Really felt a connection with, ya know? I have more fun with you than I have with anyone…”

“Mmm, so you didn’t care about whatsherface at the party this past winter then, hm?” you said the words before you could even think them, wishing you could cram them right back into your mouth. 

His face contorts into the most confused look you’d ever seen on him. “What? You mean… no, I–I mean I cared about her, I guess, but not like…I–” he stumbled over his words. 

“I’m joking, Sam. I’m kidding.” you say as you lay your palm on his chest, feeling his heart beating a mile a minute as you bring yourself into his bubble. His face was defeated as he bit his lips in, his eyes searching across your face. 

“Have…have you, ya know…” he stammered again. 

You shake your head. “No. I haven’t. You’d know… I’d tell you.”

“Would you? You better…” he jokes. “Actually, no. Nevermind. Spare me the dirty details. I don’t need that visual in my head.” he rolls back over as he places his hands over his eyes. 

“And you think I enjoyed the visual of you with–with someone else?!” you argue back. 

“Someone else? You mean, someone that wasn’t you? Were you jealous, Y/N?!” he laughs. 

“Ugh, NO! I wasn’t jealous, stupid!” you hit him across the face with a pillow. 

“Then what were you?” his tone softened.

You swallow hard, unsure of how to get your way out of this one. “I was nothing, Sam. Happy for you, that’s what I was.”

He didn’t seem convinced. “Hm. Well. Just be careful here, okay? Guys only want one thing… and most aren’t as nice as me.”

A few tears and a lot of ‘I’ll miss you’s’ later, you watch as his hand me down Subaru pulls away from your dorm. With a promise of ‘I’ll call you’, you head back into your room, alone for the first time. 

Rushing straight to the trash can you pick up the card, running your fingers over the letters as you let the tears fall. You hate lying to Sam. You wish you could be honest, but you know you can't. Especially now. It would break his heart.

How could you do this to him? He is your best friend. Your best friend who is in love with you… He would never understand. 

Tears roll down your cheek as you pin the card to your bulletin board. The pick still sits perfectly taped inside the card. You haven’t brought yourself to take it out, afraid you will lose it. You couldn’t bear the thought. It sits right next to a picture of you and Sam, his arm draped around the back of your neck pulling your face close to his. Both of you are wearing huge, happy smiles. Your best friend. You held so much love…

A pang of guilt shoots through your chest as you imagine how Sam must have felt all these years. Hearing you complain about boys and watching you date them, when all he wanted was for it to be him. All the times you cried to him on the phone about your bad dates and break ups…He was always there. Through everything.

In a way you almost feel like you led him on, spending almost everyday with him this summer. You knew you two had grown closer, but you didn’t know how much more it meant to him. All the while you were pining after his brother. The brother who he asked for advice. About you. You, never even throwing a thought his way. Now you’re here at college, and they are leaving for tour, and still… nothing has changed. You’re not sure when you’ll see them again, but maybe the distance will be good. Maybe it will give you all the clarity you need. 

You decide to take a shower to rinse away the day of sweat and exhaustion, and hope that it will help you relax into your new surroundings. It’s hard being in a new place where you don’t know anyone. It’s scary and lonely. You triple check the lock on your door and text your mom that you are in for the night, so that she doesn’t worry.

As you crawl into the unfamiliar twin bed, you read a few pages of a book your mom bought you, and find yourself growing drowsy with each flip of a page. When your phone vibrates next to you, your eyes pop open, waking you from your light sleep. You pick it up wondering who it could be, and when you see the name on the screen it nearly takes your breath away. 

With shaking hands you swipe to open the message and what you are met with, sends a chill down your spine.

Jake

9:57pm: Sam called.

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Taglist: @gretavansara@jordie-gvf-admin@starshine-wagner@eyelinerjake@gretavanfvckface@gretavanmoon@misshunnybeebee@fretaganvleet@gvfpal@joshkiszkas@ascendingtostardust@raviolilegs@sammysprincess@gvfpal@objectsinspvce@lallisonl@gvfpal@raviolilegs@jaketlover@ascendingtostardust @violet-hayes@indigostreakmorgan@jakemarrymeibeg@fakeplastiqtree@radmads-gvf @fwzco @katelynn-gvf @writingcold @jakesgrapejuice @jakekiszkasbabymama @emsfallingsky @gretavanbear @ejoygvf @beebloopbleep @mackalah @weneedsomehealing123 @reesetrippingthelight @lightmylove-gvf @wetkleenex-gvf@fulltimecynical@ageofbajabule@ageofsinners@indigostreakslut @katelynn-gvf @ohgodthefeeling-gvf @joshskittytickler @mp0801@starcatcherry @samsbirks @darianh07 @cassiesgreta @becinabubblegvf @hanntisocial @demonrat444 @mrbrownstne @gretabyss @bizzielisteningtogreta @samsbirks @jakes-archer @laneygvf @jaketsword @hangvf @indigostreakmorgan

He was bored. Lingering in the space where you'd tried to close the door and he'd caught it, a look of boyish indignation on his face that let you know he wasn't about to let you get any work done.

"If the shoe was on the other foot..." You sighed. "And I disturbed you like this in the studio, you'd be furious."

There wasn't any desire to reject his playful insistence that you pay him some attention. There was nothing more that you wanted than to close your inbox and switch your phone off. To go downstairs with him and get settled on the couch with a glass of wine and let him delicately work his way up your body as you tried to watch a movie.

But deadlines were sat there, making your heart sink and your patience wear ever increasingly more thin. Never more so than when your love was home. His guitar case closed, the need to satisfy weeks of salacious messages exchanged from the tour bus and hotel rooms.

"Furiously turned on." He replied, flashing you a grin that sent flutters down from your stomach into the ebb of your aching core.

"Jake." You moaned, "Go and find something else to do."

You knew he wouldn't. You knew he would continue to watch you type out irrelevant e-mails and feel the mounting arousal in his gaze as you simmered under a barely there thong and t-shirt. Inappropriate to wear in an office, but a sight for sore eyes as you sat at the little desk in the corner of the house.

"There's nothing else I want to do in this house, than you." He complained, adorning the most rage inducing pout you'd ever seen.

You considered setting aside your tasks. To let him fawn over you a little while. Let him have a taste of everything he had missed, just enough to slake his need. To make him less deprived. There was mischief in his eyes and you could never squander the opportunity to see what his boredom could conjure.

"Give me five minutes." You gave in, rolling your eyes playfully but knowing his triumph would bring you to a valiant end.

He tilted his chin. Let the corners of his mouth turn upward. Smug. Like you'd put up a genuine fight. Basking in the glory of his defeat of your intention to continue working. And you would have let him have it, were it not for the tiny little name flashing up on your screen moments later.

Your boss. A name which never usually invoked much of a reaction, but as your attention began to wander it felt as if you could have slipped your phone underneath the pile of paperwork you were yet to complete and simply ignore it.

Jake watched closely to see what you would do. Shaking his head slowly as you swiped your thumb across the screen and mouthed a pathetic 'sorry' as you took the call.

That was your first mistake. To think that he would simply honour your decision to derail his mounting desire. The second was to think that he wouldn't continue in his quest to pull you away from your work load.

"I'm looking at that file right now." You said, spinning your chair around to face the computer, Jake's reflection sitting behind the ceaseless words and numbers you needed to make sense of. "No, there doesn't appear to be any anomalies. But I can double check the numbers for you and get them back to you in the next hour."

No sooner had you made that promise, you felt your chair being spun back around. Jake, on his knees, a serious expression etched on his face as he silently pleaded with you to let him have his way.

"Yes, of course." You continued, holding the phone to your ear whilst widening your eyes. "If all the files need checking I can oversee that for you."

You let your boss speak about numbers and figures. Checking and double checking files. The monotonous drone of their voice fading away as you felt the lace edge of your thong slide down your thighs. Jake, without any regard for what your boss might hear, spread your legs and licked his lips at the sight of it.

"Yes, I'm still here." You tried to focus, almost audibly moaning at the sensation of his hands moving your thighs apart. "Sorry, can you repeat that?"

He was evil for this. The daring glint in his eye as he looked up at you. The sensation of his hair as it brushed against your inner thigh. All the ways in which he brought you back to him, even as you tried to keep your focus elsewhere. He knew the battle for your attention was one that he would always win, but he enjoyed the fight. And you were powerless to stop him. Resolve dissolving as you gripped the phone a little tighter.

You let him lean you back into the arms of the office chair. Raising your knees, letting them fall open as he sank into the gravitational pull of your throbbing pussy.

"Mmmm'hmmm." You hummed, perhaps in agreeance with something your boss said, but mostly at the brush of Jake's tongue as it swept across your outer lips.

The fragility of your voice was going to be the thing which gave you away. The gentle laps of his mouth as it licked the length of your slit, causing you to arch your spine where you sat, would be your undoing.

"Of course." You carried on, trying to keep your voice steady. "I think those were the files I sent over to you last week... Yes, in the blue...folder."

You caught a look of pure unadulterated satisfaction in the way he almost made you unravel. Using two calloused finger tips to open you up even wider. Holding your pussy lips apart, he set his mouth against your swollen clit. Padding the flat of his tongue against it, causing the nerves to awaken and send a flood of arousal to every muscle and sinew in your body. All your joints became loose, and you almost dropped the phone.

"I'll have to draft up some templates." You felt ridiculous, speaking of such ordinary things whilst you were being subjected to a depraved act of sexual rebellion.

He was practically drinking from you as he pressed his nose up against your mound. Letting his mouth take all of you in. Sucking in your lips so that his tongue could reach your entrance. Feeling the sudden rush of blood to your head as his tongue ventured inside.

Your head fell back as he probed you with it. The all consuming need to take a fist of his hair and moan at the way he took you there like that had you tempted to hang up.

"No, I can get that done for you by Friday." You assured, inwardly begging and pleading for the conversation to end.

When he came up to catch his breath, you were smothered across the lower half of his face. Mouth and chin saturated in pussy juice as he ran a palm over the whisks of facial hair that glistened. He stared at you with half closed lids, like he was lost to his arousal and didn't see the phone in your hand anymore.

"Keep talking, baby." He whispered, gathering your t-shirt in a closed fist, pulling you towards his sticky mouth.

There was no doubt in your mind that the kiss would travel down the airwaves. The sound your throat made as his mouth made contact. The uncontrollable whimper that was breathy and almost silent, but not quite. The sound of his tongue as it travelled against yours, the taste of what he'd swallowed now in your mouth as you tried to hold yourself steady against the ramblings going on at the other end of the receiver.

And then the inevitable question came. Is everything alright over there? As if you could tear yourself away from his sweet breath. You kept your tongue in his mouth far longer than you'd anticipated. And when the response came, it was almost met with suspicion.

"Yes." You replied swiftly, feeling foolish for being so reckless. "Everything's fine. My apologies, what was it you were saying about the new deadline?"

He almost fell to laughter. Seeing the crimson in your cheeks and the heavy flush in the flesh at your throat. Positively wrecked by his assault. And nowhere near to being done with it.

The blurred lines between decency were ruined. All you could do was submit. Your chest heaving in shallow breaths as he lingered at your mouth with his parted slightly. Not kissing, but savouring the way your lips were a little swollen from the pressure of his mouth against them.

"Mute them." He instructed, "They don't want to hear this."

You swallowed thickly. Swiping over the little mic icon until it was crossed out. Your boss carried on talking, little musings that required no response but information you no doubt needed in order to get the next lot of projects done.

"Whatever it is you're planning on doing, do it quickly." You urged, letting him slide the phone out of your hand and place it screen down on the pile of unfinished paperwork.

"Hold on tight." He said, causing you to grip the arms of the chair in trepidation.

Pushing the hem of your t-shirt up, he exposed your breasts and rose on his knees to meet them. His body pressed up against you, warm and tender. He wasted no time in taking what he wanted. Sucking your nipple violently into his mouth as he penetrated you with two of the most delicious fingers.

And then you knew why he'd wanted that conversation muted. The sound of your wetness pounding against his knuckles was utterly pornographic. Teeth bore down into your flesh as you threw your head back and you began panting wildly at the way he punched into you. Flecks of pussy juice flicked onto your thighs, spreading up his forearm as he fucked into you with his hand.

Your entire body was shaking with the onslaught. The chair practically ready to fall back as he curled his fingers inside you and applied the most delicious pressure on those places he loved to tease the most. You couldn't breathe. Your legs felt entirely weak. Your senses heightened.

"Taking phone calls when you've promised to fuck me." He admonished, bringing his mouth to your ear as your breasts bounced against his chest. "I'm gonna teach you never to make promises like that, baby."

You loved how he made you a sloppy mess. Looking into your eyes as he vigorously forced his fingers inside you as far as they would go. Watching your brow furrow and your jaw go slack, nose wrinkled in a look of absolute hedonistic pleasure. If this was a punishment, it didn't feel much like one.

"I'm gonna lose my job, baby..." You whimpered, letting him slow to a steady pace, his fingers sliding in and out as your pussy lips pulled against saturated knuckles. "I really....fuck...I have to get back to this call..."

You could see how worked up he was. A little edge of disappointment as you picked your phone back up, your boss still prattling on as if you'd been listening the entire time. You kept eye contact with him, listening to the way your pussy sounded now that he'd ruined it.

"That all sounds fine." You interjected, "I should probably go and get a head start on all of this."

Jakes thumb was rolling around your clit. Pulling back the hood, pressing down on it like it was a big red button that shouldn't be pressed. Begging to be detonated. Your breath still lingering on errant moans you didn't dare express.

"Yes..." You could feel his intention rise. "Yes, that all sounds do-able."

You needed to let go. To feel the fissures of your orgasm that was building more clearly. He'd call it legendary, the way he'd made you let him play with you while on this seemingly important interaction. He'd talk about it again and again when he wanted to remind you that you were his.

You were about to speak when his mouth returned to you. Sucking on your tongue as if to rob you of all the words you were meant to say. You could hear your boss on the other end of the phone, waiting for your response, one that you simply couldn't make whilst letting Jake wrap his lips around you. All you could do was gently murmur until he had his fill.

"Anything you need." You said breathlessly, to your boss...to Jake. "I'm gonna go ahead and make a start on those files for you, ok?"

He slapped your pussy with the back of his hand as you came off the call. Causing you to squeal, a high pitched whine of delight.

"Oh, no..." He shook his head. "You think just because you hung up that you get to cum now, is that it?"

You would have begged. But it would have been futile.

"Stand up." He ordered, bringing you to your feet. "Palms on the desk."

The torturous beat of his ministrations continued. Thighs parted as you leaned against the array of work left undone. He fell to his knees again and licked endless stripes up from your pussy into the valley of your ass. Pressing his mouth into the moisture there. Making your begs come out in painful moans. Not in words, but in restrained little moans that did nothing to help your cause.

"You ready for my cock?" He asked, sliding a solitary fingertip down the path of where his tongue had been.

The way your head moved up and down, humming your need as the word yes spilled out... you felt the incomparable rage of your phone vibrating again.

.

.

.

He was bored. Lingering in the space where you'd tried to close the door and he'd caught it, a look of boyish indignation on his face that let you know he wasn't about to let you get any work done.

"If the shoe was on the other foot..." You sighed. "And I disturbed you like this in the studio, you'd be furious."

There wasn't any desire to reject his playful insistence that you pay him some attention. There was nothing more that you wanted than to close your inbox and switch your phone off. To go downstairs with him and get settled on the couch with a glass of wine and let him delicately work his way up your body as you tried to watch a movie.

But deadlines were sat there, making your heart sink and your patience wear ever increasingly more thin. Never more so than when your love was home. His guitar case closed, the need to satisfy weeks of salacious messages exchanged from the tour bus and hotel rooms.

"Furiously turned on." He replied, flashing you a grin that sent flutters down from your stomach into the ebb of your aching core.

"Jake." You moaned, "Go and find something else to do."

You knew he wouldn't. You knew he would continue to watch you type out irrelevant e-mails and feel the mounting arousal in his gaze as you simmered under a barely there thong and t-shirt. Inappropriate to wear in an office, but a sight for sore eyes as you sat at the little desk in the corner of the house.

"There's nothing else I want to do in this house, than you." He complained, adorning the most rage inducing pout you'd ever seen.

You considered setting aside your tasks. To let him fawn over you a little while. Let him have a taste of everything he had missed, just enough to slake his need. To make him less deprived. There was mischief in his eyes and you could never squander the opportunity to see what his boredom could conjure.

"Give me five minutes." You gave in, rolling your eyes playfully but knowing his triumph would bring you to a valiant end.

He tilted his chin. Let the corners of his mouth turn upward. Smug. Like you'd put up a genuine fight. Basking in the glory of his defeat of your intention to continue working. And you would have let him have it, were it not for the tiny little name flashing up on your screen moments later.

Your boss. A name which never usually invoked much of a reaction, but as your attention began to wander it felt as if you could have slipped your phone underneath the pile of paperwork you were yet to complete and simply ignore it.

Jake watched closely to see what you would do. Shaking his head slowly as you swiped your thumb across the screen and mouthed a pathetic 'sorry' as you took the call.

That was your first mistake. To think that he would simply honour your decision to derail his mounting desire. The second was to think that he wouldn't continue in his quest to pull you away from your work load.

"I'm looking at that file right now." You said, spinning your chair around to face the computer, Jake's reflection sitting behind the ceaseless words and numbers you needed to make sense of. "No, there doesn't appear to be any anomalies. But I can double check the numbers for you and get them back to you in the next hour."

No sooner had you made that promise, you felt your chair being spun back around. Jake, on his knees, a serious expression etched on his face as he silently pleaded with you to let him have his way.

"Yes, of course." You continued, holding the phone to your ear whilst widening your eyes. "If all the files need checking I can oversee that for you."

You let your boss speak about numbers and figures. Checking and double checking files. The monotonous drone of their voice fading away as you felt the lace edge of your thong slide down your thighs. Jake, without any regard for what your boss might hear, spread your legs and licked his lips at the sight of it.

"Yes, I'm still here." You tried to focus, almost audibly moaning at the sensation of his hands moving your thighs apart. "Sorry, can you repeat that?"

He was evil for this. The daring glint in his eye as he looked up at you. The sensation of his hair as it brushed against your inner thigh. All the ways in which he brought you back to him, even as you tried to keep your focus elsewhere. He knew the battle for your attention was one that he would always win, but he enjoyed the fight. And you were powerless to stop him. Resolve dissolving as you gripped the phone a little tighter.

You let him lean you back into the arms of the office chair. Raising your knees, letting them fall open as he sank into the gravitational pull of your throbbing pussy.

"Mmmm'hmmm." You hummed, perhaps in agreeance with something your boss said, but mostly at the brush of Jake's tongue as it swept across your outer lips.

The fragility of your voice was going to be the thing which gave you away. The gentle laps of his mouth as it licked the length of your slit, causing you to arch your spine where you sat, would be your undoing.

"Of course." You carried on, trying to keep your voice steady. "I think those were the files I sent over to you last week... Yes, in the blue...folder."

You caught a look of pure unadulterated satisfaction in the way he almost made you unravel. Using two calloused finger tips to open you up even wider. Holding your pussy lips apart, he set his mouth against your swollen clit. Padding the flat of his tongue against it, causing the nerves to awaken and send a flood of arousal to every muscle and sinew in your body. All your joints became loose, and you almost dropped the phone.

"I'll have to draft up some templates." You felt ridiculous, speaking of such ordinary things whilst you were being subjected to a depraved act of sexual rebellion.

He was practically drinking from you as he pressed his nose up against your mound. Letting his mouth take all of you in. Sucking in your lips so that his tongue could reach your entrance. Feeling the sudden rush of blood to your head as his tongue ventured inside.

Your head fell back as he probed you with it. The all consuming need to take a fist of his hair and moan at the way he took you there like that had you tempted to hang up.

"No, I can get that done for you by Friday." You assured, inwardly begging and pleading for the conversation to end.

When he came up to catch his breath, you were smothered across the lower half of his face. Mouth and chin saturated in pussy juice as he ran a palm over the whisks of facial hair that glistened. He stared at you with half closed lids, like he was lost to his arousal and didn't see the phone in your hand anymore.

"Keep talking, baby." He whispered, gathering your t-shirt in a closed fist, pulling you towards his sticky mouth.

There was no doubt in your mind that the kiss would travel down the airwaves. The sound your throat made as his mouth made contact. The uncontrollable whimper that was breathy and almost silent, but not quite. The sound of his tongue as it travelled against yours, the taste of what he'd swallowed now in your mouth as you tried to hold yourself steady against the ramblings going on at the other end of the receiver.

And then the inevitable question came. Is everything alright over there? As if you could tear yourself away from his sweet breath. You kept your tongue in his mouth far longer than you'd anticipated. And when the response came, it was almost met with suspicion.

"Yes." You replied swiftly, feeling foolish for being so reckless. "Everything's fine. My apologies, what was it you were saying about the new deadline?"

He almost fell to laughter. Seeing the crimson in your cheeks and the heavy flush in the flesh at your throat. Positively wrecked by his assault. And nowhere near to being done with it.

The blurred lines between decency were ruined. All you could do was submit. Your chest heaving in shallow breaths as he lingered at your mouth with his parted slightly. Not kissing, but savouring the way your lips were a little swollen from the pressure of his mouth against them.

"Mute them." He instructed, "They don't want to hear this."

You swallowed thickly. Swiping over the little mic icon until it was crossed out. Your boss carried on talking, little musings that required no response but information you no doubt needed in order to get the next lot of projects done.

"Whatever it is you're planning on doing, do it quickly." You urged, letting him slide the phone out of your hand and place it screen down on the pile of unfinished paperwork.

"Hold on tight." He said, causing you to grip the arms of the chair in trepidation.

Pushing the hem of your t-shirt up, he exposed your breasts and rose on his knees to meet them. His body pressed up against you, warm and tender. He wasted no time in taking what he wanted. Sucking your nipple violently into his mouth as he penetrated you with two of the most delicious fingers.

And then you knew why he'd wanted that conversation muted. The sound of your wetness pounding against his knuckles was utterly pornographic. Teeth bore down into your flesh as you threw your head back and you began panting wildly at the way he punched into you. Flecks of pussy juice flicked onto your thighs, spreading up his forearm as he fucked into you with his hand.

Your entire body was shaking with the onslaught. The chair practically ready to fall back as he curled his fingers inside you and applied the most delicious pressure on those places he loved to tease the most. You couldn't breathe. Your legs felt entirely weak. Your senses heightened.

"Taking phone calls when you've promised to fuck me." He admonished, bringing his mouth to your ear as your breasts bounced against his chest. "I'm gonna teach you never to make promises like that, baby."

You loved how he made you a sloppy mess. Looking into your eyes as he vigorously forced his fingers inside you as far as they would go. Watching your brow furrow and your jaw go slack, nose wrinkled in a look of absolute hedonistic pleasure. If this was a punishment, it didn't feel much like one.

"I'm gonna lose my job, baby..." You whimpered, letting him slow to a steady pace, his fingers sliding in and out as your pussy lips pulled against saturated knuckles. "I really....fuck...I have to get back to this call..."

You could see how worked up he was. A little edge of disappointment as you picked your phone back up, your boss still prattling on as if you'd been listening the entire time. You kept eye contact with him, listening to the way your pussy sounded now that he'd ruined it.

"That all sounds fine." You interjected, "I should probably go and get a head start on all of this."

Jakes thumb was rolling around your clit. Pulling back the hood, pressing down on it like it was a big red button that shouldn't be pressed. Begging to be detonated. Your breath still lingering on errant moans you didn't dare express.

"Yes..." You could feel his intention rise. "Yes, that all sounds do-able."

You needed to let go. To feel the fissures of your orgasm that was building more clearly. He'd call it legendary, the way he'd made you let him play with you while on this seemingly important interaction. He'd talk about it again and again when he wanted to remind you that you were his.

You were about to speak when his mouth returned to you. Sucking on your tongue as if to rob you of all the words you were meant to say. You could hear your boss on the other end of the phone, waiting for your response, one that you simply couldn't make whilst letting Jake wrap his lips around you. All you could do was gently murmur until he had his fill.

"Anything you need." You said breathlessly, to your boss...to Jake. "I'm gonna go ahead and make a start on those files for you, ok?"

He slapped your pussy with the back of his hand as you came off the call. Causing you to squeal, a high pitched whine of delight.

"Oh, no..." He shook his head. "You think just because you hung up that you get to cum now, is that it?"

You would have begged. But it would have been futile.

"Stand up." He ordered, bringing you to your feet. "Palms on the desk."

The torturous beat of his ministrations continued. Thighs parted as you leaned against the array of work left undone. He fell to his knees again and licked endless stripes up from your pussy into the valley of your ass. Pressing his mouth into the moisture there. Making your begs come out in painful moans. Not in words, but in restrained little moans that did nothing to help your cause.

"You ready for my cock?" He asked, sliding a solitary fingertip down the path of where his tongue had been.

The way your head moved up and down, humming your need as the word yes spilled out... you felt the incomparable rage of your phone vibrating again.

.

.

.

"En español, Jake!" You admonished, tapping your finger down onto the page with vitriol.

He looked up at you with a frustrated sigh. As if the words were swimming around in his head but simply refused to spill out of his poised mouth.

"I'm so sorry." He apologised, slamming the book closed. "I just can't imagine why you haven't punched me in the face yet."

You had a little sympathy for him. Learning a new language in adulthood was fastidiously hard. You'd watched him for hours trying to curl his tongue around the way things were spoken in conjunction to how they were written down.

"The thought may have crossed my mind." You replied playfully, stashing the book back in your bag.

He watched you gathering your things together. Leaning back in his chair, arm draped casually down the back as you tried to pretend that you weren't aware.

"Why won't you let me take you out for a drink?" He asked, again, leaning forward onto the table. "It's just one drink, where's the harm?"

You slipped your bag over your shoulder and gave him the same balanced look you had given him all the other times he had tried to convince you to go out with him for a harmless drink.

"Jake, I can't keep doing this with you."

His arms were crossed as he leaned on the table. Long, lithe fingers locked together as he tried to downplay the disappointment. There was a sadness there in his eyes as he tried to smile.

"I know. I'm sorry, I just lose my head around you sometimes." He uttered, cracking his knuckles as he got up to walk you to the door.

You stopped in the hall to slip your shoes back on. Conscious of his eyes burning into the back of you. It would have made you uncomfortable were it not for the fact that every single time you had told him no a small part of you had died inside. These stolen moments where you knew he was studying your body were all you could enjoy.

When you turned around he was holding the door open for you. A thousand things on his mind that he ached to say, but couldn't.

"Maybe we shouldn't do this anymore." You suggested, "I mean, it was a crazy idea to begin with. I'm not a Spanish tutor, I'm your fucking translator. I'm already on the payroll. It'd be like dating my boss. You know that's why I have to say no, right?"

It was a downright lie.

He raised a hopeful eyebrow. "And not because you don't think I'm sexy?"

He was insufferable in the way you couldn't stand the fact he made you laugh. That had been the reason you had agreed to give him Spanish lessons in the first place. Because he had made you laugh with his goofy silliness. His self deprecating manner was endearing. And you hated him for that.

"Comportate, por favor." You told him, slipping out of the door before you changed your mind.

You weren't averse to dating rock stars. There had been times, in the past, where you had been hired to go on tour with artists who didn't speak the language of the countries they were moving through. It had been your job to liaise with concert venues, hotels and media outlets. Sometimes allowing yourself to be courted by these melodic creatures. There was something about musicians that drew you in.

Perhaps it was because they were poets. They valued art over everything else. To you, language was the most powerful art of all. To have the knowledge of words that could be understood the world over was truly a gift. And you could speak eight of them.

When Jake had asked you to teach him one of your gifts, initially you had balked at the idea. There was something about Jake that made you nervous. He made you feel like a song with just a fleeting glance. You weren't sure of yourself around him. It felt as if at any given moment something beautiful might happen. He wasn't a temporary fuck on a job you knew would only last a few weeks before moving on to the next. You knew, intrinsically, that if you allowed him to touch you there was no moving on from it.

He was peering at you from his porch steps as you got into your car. Patiently waiting until your seatbelt was on before waving sweetly. Like a Grandma would. Only stopping when you were out of sight.

"Damn you, Jake..." You whispered to yourself as you turned the corner, wishing you could rescind the past seven days.

~

You slammed the overhead locker shut and slumped into your seat below. Eye mask lingering on your forehead, ready to be pulled down so that the fluorescent lights on the plane didn't give you a migraine. Your skin was moisturised, your hair coiled in loose braids down each shoulder. Ready to sleep for the next eleven hours.

You watched the rest of the crew and management team take their seats. The unspoken rule of long haul flights being that nobody conversed. Nobody disturbed the other. It was a time to rest and reflect before chaos ensued.

"Do you mind if I sit here?" He asked, swinging himself into the seat beside you before you could protest.

Your mouth agape, you watched him get comfortable in the space where you had planned to put your feet.

"Jake?" You sighed. "I thought you were sitting with your brothers up front?"

He shrugged nonchalantly. "I wanted to sit here, with you."

You were still waiting for him to embellish as he pushed his shoes off and stretched his feet out. He was wearing those blue jeans with the cut in the knee he had worn every day the previous week, with a ripped hem shirt that was only buttoned half way. His chains hanging against his flesh between the opening.

You wondered how a person could endure eleven hours in clothes like that, but Jake always seemed to put style over comfort. It was one of the first things you'd taken in about him. Every single facet of his being was a token of his personality. He was his own canvas.

You couldn't help but smile.

"Ok, fine." You allowed, "But we're not having an impromptu lesson or anything, I plan to sleep."

You slipped down your eye mask and tried to hide the fact you were terrified of flying as the plane took off. The rumble and strange loss of gravity churning your stomach as you gripped the arm rest. Only settling once you were in the air and the subtle sounds of people sleeping and turning the pages of books was all you could hear.

He kept silent while you slept. And when you awoke to find your legs splayed across his lap, you flinched involuntarily. His head snapped up from the back of his seat. Eyes wide and for a moment neither of you could remember where you were.

You weren't sure how you'd ended up in the position you found yourself in. If he had placed your legs there himself, in some act of kindness you'd not asked for. Or if you had done it yourself in your sleep, and he had simply allowed it.

"Sorry." You grumbled, taking back your feet and slipping the eye mask around your frazzled braids.

"You don't like flying, huh?" He asked, running a hand through his knotted locks.

You were quick to defend yourself. "What makes you say that?"

The most heart breaking memory seemed to come to him. Smiling as if he may never have that time back. You felt the blood rush to your head as he looked at you. His deep brown eyes catching yours for the briefest of moments.

"You reached out for me in your sleep." He replied, almost in sadness.

You blushed. Turning away from him hastily, busying yourself with the book on the small table in front of you. Feeling foolish. As if you had spoiled something already.

"I didn't mean to." You said quietly, fixating on the page without being able to focus on any of the words.

"You worry too much." He commented, straightening up in his seat to reveal that all of his buttons were now undone.

As he stretched, he revealed a smooth chest and small ripples of flesh around his stomach. The muscles above taut and lean from years of grinding into his guitar.

You excused yourself to the bathroom. Brushing past him as you climbed out of your seat. Feeling dizzy as you walked down the aisle towards the illuminated rest room sign.

Splashing your face with cold water did little to dispel your nerves. Staring at yourself in the mirror, telling yourself to hold your reserve. He didn't deserve to hold your attention like this. How had he crawled beneath your skin so easily?

It wasn't exactly love at first sight. But it was something akin. The first time you had spoken. You felt it. The ache. Like a little electric burn. Because of him.

You sucked in your breath and uncoiled your braids. Ran careful fingers through your hair until the waves were smooth. Reminded yourself that it was just another job. And walked back to your seat with irrational confidence that you could endure the rest of the flight by his side.

Confidence which ebbed as you noted the glasses of rum and coke sitting on the tray tables. The froth still fizzing on the surface of the ice. He was chewing on his bottom lip absently until he noticed you. Immediately stiffening as you breezed back into your seat. Looking slightly different than when you had left.

"You've hijacked me, you do realise that, don't you?"

He picked up his glass and raised it as if to make a toast.

"I don't have a clue what you're talking about." He feigned. "I just thought you might be thirsty."

There was a devious glint in his eye. One which made you bend to his will. You picked up your glass and didn't really feel in the mood for rum so soon after waking up, but up in the air it didn't really feel like morning or evening. You were in limbo. The only place where you would ever agree to have a drink with him.

"This isn't a date." You confirmed. "This is not me agreeing to go for a drink with you. This is two colleagues having a drink on the same flight together."

It was precisely what he had wanted, packaged in another name. He knew it and so did you.

"Cheers." He said brazenly, tapping the rim of his glass against yours. "Here's to colleagues having a drink together."

You rolled your eyes. "We'll only ever be friends, Jake."

~

There was something oddly beautiful about silence. Music was the beating heart of the world. There was a song for every emotion ever felt by anyone anywhere. But when the music stopped, it was like the echo was felt universally. Bones and blood coming down from the euphoria. There was something about Jake that made it so hard to come down from.

You were standing behind the stage. The tones of the final note still playing out. Your eyes closed and your hands clutching a crisp white envelope tightly. The silence was deafening.

And then he was there. Peeling off his jacket. The sweat glistening in the stage lights. He handed his guitar to one of the stage technicians and noticed you waiting by the door. Not where you usually could be found.

"Buenas noches." You said, tilting your head as he approached.

"Evening." He replied, in English. "What do I owe the pleasure?"

You hadn't seen him all day. You'd been endlessly scrolling through potential activities for a day away from the stage. So rarely did these days come about, it had felt as if you had to find the most perfect venue. The tour manager had given you only three proviso's. Somewhere beautiful to film social media content. Somewhere all four of the band members could enjoy. Somewhere quintessentially Spanish.

"I think I've found the ideal place for your day off." You said, handing him the Vineyard confirmation.

He unfolded the paper and scanned the document. Looking up at you as if you were the most perfect creature to ever walk the earth. It dawned on you that you didn't have to be stood there in that moment, but you'd been so excited to tell him. Aching for a glimpse of him. Afraid that you wouldn't get one.

"A real Spanish Vineyard?"

You nodded. "And a tour of the distillery where they make brandy, too."

"This is perfect." He replied, eager to hug you but consciously aware that he was dripping in stage sweat. "And you'll be there, won't you?"

"Hardly be doing my job if I wasn't."

He lingered there with you. In the silence. The subtle reminder that you worked for him completely disregarded as he took the liberty of waiting until his brothers had walked past before shakily trailing his fingertips down the side of your cheek.

"Bello..." You heard him say, before he dropped his hand and you felt the absence of it so deeply you weren't certain how you could walk away from him and feel whole ever again.

You barely slept. Questioning yourself as you tossed and turned in the darkness. Irritated by the inner monologue that told you to re-think your outfit choice. It had to be light and airy for the warm sunshine. But not too revealing for the classy Vineyard aesthetic. You wanted Jake to look at you and think you pretty. But it couldn't be too obvious that you'd chosen the outfit just for him. Because you didn't want to choose the outfit just for him. You were consumed by the need for his attention. And hating yourself for it wasn't getting any easier.

The sleep deprivation hit you as you stepped out into the heat. Not yet noon and it was scorching down on your shoulders. The yellow sun dress which had been your fourth and final choice had tiny spaghetti straps that did little to protect your skin. Your white wide rimmed hat provided a little shade, but in the end you knew you'd walk away from the day with pink and red stripes.

You were already at the Vineyard when he arrived. Awaiting his arrival with the tour manager and social media assistant. Spilling out of the mini van, it appeared the sleepless night had been a friend to them all. Four sets of shades hid the dark circles. You couldn't help but smile ironically.

But they were like curious children as soon as the first taste hit. Jake, listening to the tour guide speaking a mixture of English and Spanish, turning to you for confirmation on anything he didn't understand. Swilling the wine in his taster glass, as he'd been instructed, endearingly involving himself even though you could sense that he was so tired.

You found some shade as the tour came to an end. Beneath a eucalyptus tree. Fanning your dress out as you sat on the little wooden bench under the arching branches. Watching Jake filming content with his brothers, happy to just be there. Relieved that your skin was not too sun kissed. The joviality of Jake and his brothers was a joy to behold. Their subtle differences in the way they reacted to each wine was comical and you found yourself drifting into a state of bliss you'd never found whilst on a tour job before.

He was wearing his shirt open at the chest again. Chains glistening in the afternoon sun as he came to sit with you. The entire group dispersing into their own little activities. He handed you a glass of red, noticing that it was the one you'd liked the most whilst on the tour.

"I feel as if I haven't seen you all day." He said, shuffling up the bench so that he was closer to you.

"I've been by your side the whole time." You replied bashfully.

He didn't seem to care, though. "I felt it yesterday too, when I actually didn't see you all day."

You took a languid sip, feeling the wine go down past the lump in your throat. His knee conspicuously close to yours. The fabric of your dress billowing in the breeze, threatening to lift and reveal your flesh. He noticed and pressed his leg against yours, the motion driving you irrevocably insane.

"What are you doing, Jake?" You asked, keeping your voice low.

You could smell the wine on his breath as he leaned in.

"How do you say... I want to rip your clothes off and fuck you until you can't stand up straight...in Spanish?"

The glass felt loose in your hand. As if his words had shaken your core and you couldn't ground yourself.

"Do you enjoy this?" You asked, more curtly than you'd anticipated. "Like it's not hard enough already?"

You'd hurt his feelings. All the happiness of the day seemed to drain from him as he moved his leg away. Another absence of his touch you felt so completely, it was as if you'd fade away entirely if he ever touched you again.

"Why do you constantly deny me?!"

He was livid. You could feel the bench move as he trembled.

"I could understand it if the feelings weren't reciprocated. I'd have asked you out, you'd have said no. Told me that you're not interested and yeah, it would have sucked and I'd have taken it on the chin. But I'm not stupid, I know you want me. And no amount of telling me that we're just friends is going to change that."

He downed his wine. You waited for him to get up and leave, but he remained at your side. A trembling mess as he waited for you to say something that might give him hope.

"You have no right to say that to me...no right!" You almost bellowed, feeling the rage prick at your fingertips. "When all I have done has been to preserve myself. And you. From hurt. And confusion."

"I'm not confused." He was quick to say, gripping the neck of his wine glass so tightly his knuckles turned white. "I know what I want."

"You think this is easy for me?"

You glanced across the courtyard towards the distillery where Jake's brother, Josh, was chatting with some of the staff. His eyes wandering back to you and Jake. His interest piqued as your voices began to rise above the din.

Jake's shoulders slumped. "It doesn't have to be this hard!"

You tried to smile reassuringly as you caught Josh's eye. He smiled back, returning reluctantly to his conversation. Suddenly everything began to turn into a surreal dream. Everything was perfect save for this one moment. You wanted nothing more than to turn back time, just by five minutes, and say or do something differently.

"I'm not about to complicate things for a quick fuck, Jake. I still have a job to do." You whispered, "I don't want to spend the next two weeks feeling like this..."

"Oh, what?" He replied, all the hurt you had caused him spilling out in his tone. "Like you've never fucked somebody on tour before?!"

There it was. All his hurt laid bare and all the hurt you had feared manifesting itself in the instant regret he felt as you turned to face him. All the times you'd rejected him kept in a little bottle in his heart, smashing there on the ground at your feet.

His head began to shake, his mouth open against apologies that wouldn't come out. His arms up in defence as if you were about to strike him. And all you could do was stare at him in disbelief.

"That's real nice, Jake." You managed, "Yeah. Ok, you want to play it that way? You're not wrong. I fucked a few guys on jobs in the past. Sure. They didn't care and neither did I. Why would it be awkward if you know you're never going to see them again? It meant nothing. What do you want me to say? That I'm terrified that this time it's different? That fucking you will never just be casual? That I know I'll fall in love with you the minute you kiss me? Huh? Is that what you want to hear? Stay the fuck away from me!"

~

You were still reeling as you stepped into the cool night air. Cardigan wrapped around you as the wind picked up. It was late but the hotel was situated in a sleepy little town ten minutes outside Barcelona. Lights were still twinkling in the distance. The faint sounds of people sitting outside bars and cafes sounding on the breeze. The gentle waves lapping at the shore in the pitch black.

You couldn't sleep again. Not plagued by irrelevant outfit choices this time, but instead you were horrified by yourself. By the way you had left things at the Vineyard. By how you had made your way back to the hotel without him. Not even looking at him when you'd seen him at dinner. You had felt his eyes burning into you, though. Losing your appetite entirely.

It felt as if a walk would clear your head. Bring you to some conclusion that would give you a reason to carry on. You'd been on the cusp of quitting and taking the next flight back to Nash before slipping on your sandals and cardigan and heading for the empty beach.

The sand was cool to the touch as you slinked down into it. The moon illuminating the curl of each small wave as it encroached onto the flat shoreline. The ever twinkling lights of the buildings which stretched across the coast were like stars upon the land. And you were lost in thought about Jake. About how you were going to make everything right.

So lost were you that you hadn't noticed that you were no longer alone. Catching them in the corner of your eye as they approached, as if they'd walked directly out of the black sea. A man, wearing nothing but a tattered white t-shirt and blue board shorts, waved to you inconsequentially.

You made the mistake of waving back. An impulse. Not an invitation to be disturbed. Your heart sank as they changed their direction, instead of carrying on across the shoreline, they diverted up the beach towards you. An errant smile on a bearded face greeted you as you tried to stand up.

"Oh, no. Please...stay where you are." He insisted, and you smiled because you thought he merely meant to pass you by.

When he didn't you felt yourself rooted to the spot. The darkness somehow darker than it had felt a moment ago.

"I was just leaving." You said as politely as you could.

He smelled like tobacco and body odour. The state of his feet alarmed you, as if he hadn't worn shoes for a very long time. He was sitting opposite you, as if you were friends enjoying an evening under the stars. But the hair on the back of your neck was poised. Your blood began to run cold.

"Oh, come on now." He replied, playfully with a hint of malice. "You're American, yes? I love America."

You had no desire to stay in his company. But something told you not to move. A primal instinct maybe?

"Uh, yeah." You replied, trying to keep your responses civil but brief.

He moved closer. His scent drifting in on the sea breeze. You recoiled. Feeling entirely foolish for stepping out of the hotel thinking you'd be safe.

"What's the matter?" He asked then, his voice low and gruff from years of smoking. "I just want to sit with you, alright?"

You uncrossed your legs. "I really...I was honestly just about to leave..."

He placed a dirty hand on your knee to prevent you from standing. You felt the fear grip you and choke you. Tears forming in your eyes as your lip began to tremble.

"Be a friendly girl and sit with me a while." He insisted. "I just want to talk to you."

He could see that you were afraid. Almost aroused by it. He moved to sit by you. Rubbing a calloused hand up your shin towards your knee. A broken scream was stuck in your throat. Warm tears streaming down your face.

"I have a boyfriend." You choked out, frozen into the sand as you willed it to swallow you.

"No boyfriend that I can see right now."

Something inside you snapped. The thought of Jake. Calling him your boyfriend. You didn't care about anything beyond him. Not your job nor the fears which you'd been running from. None of it made sense anymore. You could feel yourself begin to panic. Your chest moving against deep breaths. Your heart beating erratically.

You dared to push his hand away from you.

"I thought I told you to be friendly..." He hissed.

There wasn't a part of you that had any thoughts running through your mind as you heard the switch in his voice from playful malice to direct evil. You gathered the sand in your fist and threw it into his face, hearing him reel back and grunt in anger as you tried to run away.

Your sandals filled with sand though, preventing you from gaining any real speed. The scream which left you came from somewhere deep within, so blood curdling you weren't even sure it was you making the sound. It felt as if you dared not look back in case he was right behind you.

Three things seemed to happen all at once. The first was your body crushed to the ground. Sand in your mouth. The sensation that you were about to be buried alive. The second was the almost immediate release. Air rushing to your lungs as you swallowed the grit. And the third was Jake.

You stumbled onto your feet. Tears streaming down your face, spitting sand out as you felt yourself on the verge of vomiting. You blinked a few times, using your sleeve to wipe away the blurring tears.

All you could see was Jake. A pair of blue board shorts beneath him. His arm reeling back again and again and again as he rained down blow after blow.

"What the fuck did you do to her?!" He cried, cracking his fist against the bloodied face below him. "I will fucking kill you... I swear to god..."

You hadn't known Jake that long. But long enough to know he was loving and kind. That he chose to sit in corners and watch over being the centre of attention. He was funny and unserious in private with those he trusted best and stoic around people he didn't know. You'd never imagined he could be capable of such violence. When pushed, he was an animal.

"Jake!" You screamed. "Please, stop it!!!"

He didn't hear you at first. Picking up the guy by the scruff of his shirt, rattling his head before shoving it back into the sand. Landing a final, brutal kick to the stomach.

When Jake looked over at you, it was like he was seeing you for the first time. His chest heaving against catching his breath. His knuckles red and covered in blood. Not certain if it was Jake's blood, or the guy who was writhing around on the sand's. You reached for him.

But Jake didn't move. "Did he hurt you?"

You shook your head, feeling vulnerable in a way you'd never felt before.

"He started to but I ran. I'm so sorry, I was so stupid. I should have stayed in my room. I just needed to get some air...I can't believe this is happening...oh god, look at you..."

Jake noticed his hand. He shook off the blood and looked down at what he had done. The nose was broken and the eye sockets already swelling. Blood streaming from the guy's mouth. He spat a few teeth out and groaned in pain, clutching at his stomach as his white t-shirt turned red.

"No. You shouldn't have to stay in your room. You should be able to walk outside if you want to walk outside. It's fuckers like this who need to stay the fuck inside." He shoved his foot into the place where he had kicked, making sure to cause more pain. "Call the police."

"I can't." You sobbed. "They'll take you away, too."

He knew it as well as you did. They'd take him in. Question him. Stick an assault charge on him. You'd need a lawyer. You'd have to tell them what that disgusting guy had tried to do to you. You didn't want any of it. You just wanted to translate Vineyard tours, not police interrogations.

Jake leaned down and pressed his foot into the bloodied cheek.

"You better get the fuck out of here. I've got an entire security team in that hotel and they aren't little guys like me. They'll take you to fucking hell."

The adrenaline was still pumping as Jake stood back. Raking his bloody fist through his hair. Letting the guy stumble away, clutching his stomach as he spat blood onto the white sand. It wasn't until he was half way down the beach that Jake finally breathed. Letting out the most painful groan you'd ever heard. Your instincts telling you to protect him at all costs.

~

"What the fuck were doing out there?" You asked, cracking open the first aid kit in your hotel room. "Were you following me?"

He was sitting on the edge of the bed. Wincing as you knelt at his feet to wipe his hand with antiseptic. You held it within yours gently. Blowing cool air onto his grazed knuckles as you tried not to hurt him. You were still fighting back tears as you looked him in the eye.

"I didn't know you were out there." He said solemnly, tears of his own forming on the rim of his eye lashes. "I guess I had the same idea as you did. And then I heard you scream."

"What if you hadn't been there..."

You fell into his arms. Your entire body shaking as you sobbed. If you'd been afraid of loving him it felt so foolish now. You were consumed by love.

"I knew..." You tried to say, breathing hard against his bare chest.

You felt him cup your chin in his unspoiled hand. Forcing you to look at him.

"I knew from the start." You swallowed. "From the moment I saw you that I'd be fucked up forever. One look and I was gone. Washed away...in a landslide...because of your perfect face."

He fought against a smile.

"I knew you'd ruin me for anyone else." You said, "That's why I said no. All those times...no. How could I say yes to you? When saying yes meant I had to love you without fear."

He returned his fingertips to your cheek and you knew his touch was meant to heal you.

"Are you afraid now?" He asked quietly.

He was the kind of person that you knew you would end up falling in love with. You had perhaps always known it from the moment he was introduced to you. . There was a feeling which sat exactly right in your chest. You didn't want to ever say that you loved him for fear that he would leave. But you knew, beyond a shadow of a doubt, that you didn't want to spend your time with anyone else.

"I was afraid that you'd break my heart." You sighed, the shadow of that fear dissipating. "But not anymore."

"I shouldn't have said what I said earlier at the Vineyard. I was wrong to call you out like that. It's none of my business who you've fucked in the past."

You appreciated his apology, but it had little place in the moment. You would never truly understand what he had sacrificed that night. He'd never lost his cool like that, ever. He was sorry for the things which he had said, but there was no apology needed. Not after what he had done for you.

"It doesn't matter." You shrugged, pressed an ice pack against his hand as you flipped the first aid kit shut. "All that matters now, is us."

He took that as his permission to kiss you. Leaning in to it slowly. Keeping your eyes focused on his. Feeling the heat of his breath before his lips reached you. And when they did, your eyes were closed and his lips were soft against yours. They parted slightly, allowing for his tongue to slip into your mouth.

You knelt up to lock your arms around his neck. Bodies pressed together heatedly against each other. You could taste the shared breath. Feel the thud of your combined hearts. Fumbling to be free of your cardigan.

Heat blossomed in your chest. Sparks igniting as Jake pulled you closer against his open shirt. Tentatively, for the first time, he uttered your name as his mouth momentarily parted from yours before returning to you as if he hadn't whispered it at all.

"Jake..." You responded, breathy and almost too shrouded in whisper to hear.

But he did hear you. Gripping your hips tighter as he deepened the kiss. Pulling you up onto his body as he leaned back onto the bed, your legs parted on either side of his waist. Weeks of tension flowing out of both of you.

But nothing happened that night. The evening had caused an exhaustion which both of you shared as you slipped into the curve of his arm. Kissing him in small increments, stopping only to appreciate his face in the moon light which flooded in from the window. Caressing his bare chest, playing with his chains as he pressed his lips against your forehead. Your leg draped casually over his, tangled in each other for the first time.

There was no need for anything else. Loving him with abandon for all the accompanying things you'd told yourself. All the reasons you'd given yourself not to enter into this with him. Wishing that he had been your first love. So that you could have loved him sooner, instead of looking for malice in his pure intentions. Looking for ways to never have to give yourself to him. With Jake as your first love, you would have only known love to be like velvet.

But he wasn't. He was going to be your last love, you knew you would die to make that happen.

~

Jake kept his busted hand bandaged up the next day. Telling anyone who cared to ask that he had dropped his guitar case and fucked up his knuckles trying to save it. It was an unlikely story, but nobody dared to question it. Least of all the security team that would have been heavily judged for not being there to break up a fight.

You were relieved to move on. Telling yourself that it wasn't your fault, that you'd done nothing wrong. And yet, a voice echoed in the back of your mind screaming blame for what Jake had been forced to do.

Even as you boarded the plane to leave the country, it was still playing on a loop in the back of your mind. That rough, dirty hand moving up your leg. The blood. The sand in your mouth. The way he had kissed you that night afterwards...

"Do you mind if I sit here?" He asked, looking down at you with a wicked grin.

The flight from Spain to England was only a few short hours. Nothing which required sleep or tentative dream induced embraces. You felt yourself blush as he slipped into the seat beside you. Feeling entirely different. Grateful for the distraction from your thoughts.

"Maybe we should have an impromptu lesson this time." You suggested, "I haven't heard you use your words at all this week."

Jake pulled off his shades, slipping them into his breast pocket as he kicked off his shoes and offered you his hand to hold as the plane took off.

"If I tell you that asking for lessons was a ploy to get closer to you and nothing else, would you be mad?" He asked, deadly serious, rubbing the back of your hand with his thumb.

Everything he had done before the previous night meant little. You didn't care.

"Crees que eres tan listo." You replied, "But truthfully, I knew you had no intention of ever learning any of it."

He would have pulled you into one of those kisses. The urge was there on his lips as he licked them, eyes focusing in on yours.

"Besides, we're in England for the next three days. You're going to have a lot of free time." He joked, knowing that you'd have to be preparing to liaise with the concert venue and hotel in Germany for the week ahead. "What's the plan to fill it all?"

It felt like the entire time you'd known him had been foreplay. Leading up to this. A game of cat and mouse that you'd secretly wanted to end with all the sex you'd imagined having with him. Because you had imagined having sex with him.

"Maybe you could help me with that." You giggled, feeling the heat rise in your cheeks.

He stared at you for a moment. Trying to comprehend the words he thought he'd heard you say. He wasn't used to it. He expected you to rebuff him again. Even after spending the night wrapped in his arms, listening to his chest rise and fall against your cheek.

"Are you fucking serious?" He asked, gripping your hand more tightly.

You leaned in and placed your lips flush to his ear.

"Quiero arrancarte la ropa y follarte hasta que no puedas pararte derecho..." You whispered.

You felt his body close, his hand travel up your arm. Pulling you in. You let him. His brothers, Josh and Sam were sitting in the seats in front. And behind there was Danny, surrounded by people who would never know the secret you shared. Their eyes busy with anything but what the two of you were doing.

"I beg you, tell me what you just said."

You kissed him. Without shame. Without care if anyone noticed.

"I want to rip your clothes off and fuck you until you can't stand up straight..."

~

Throwing your luggage down, you tumbled into the bathroom. The anticipation was overwhelming. He'd been whispering in your ear the entire flight. All the things he was going to do to you. All the things he had imagined every single time you'd rejected him. The last thing he had said to you as you pulled up outside the hotel, weary and travel worn was a twenty minute warning that once you'd checked in and got to your room he was coming after you.

You grabbed your toiletries and began pulling your brush through your hair. Running the faucet until the water ran warm, rinsing the airport smell off your face. Shedding your clothes until you were down to your underwear, furiously brushing your teeth as you ran an electric razor up your leg.

Pulling open the elastic waist band of your panties, you peered down into the pubic hair you hadn't bothered to tidy up. Sighing at your own lack of foresight. Pushing your panties down to your ankles as you ran the shaver across your mound, wondering if he would care or even notice.

You slipped on your little white night robe over your underwear. Certain he would want you in a state of undress as he arrived. Perhaps expecting it. You regarded yourself in the mirror as you recalled his words.

"I'm going to taste that sweet pussy...You don't know how many times I've imagined what you taste like..."

You tightened the belt of your robe, feeling the length of silk material between your fingers as you pulled on it.

"You've pissed me off so much lately, I'm going to fuck that right out of you..."

Catching yourself breathing heavily, you placed the flat of your hand to the centre of your cleavage. Pressing down to feel your own heart beat.

"You know I would beat any man who tried to hurt you...you know that, don't you? Nobody's ever going to touch you again. Only me..."

Something stirred in that space between your chest and stomach. Something you had no name for. You weren't afraid when you remembered how he had lost his mind over the thought of you getting hurt. You were turned on.

"I'm getting hard right now thinking about getting to the hotel... You've got twenty minutes until I knock on your door..."

When you'd thought of the kind of lover he might be, you'd been inclined to imagine him soft and thoughtful. But there was something in those words that had been savage and downright filthy. He'd taken delight in watching you squirm in your seat, looking around to make sure nobody was listening.

Kissing you until you giggled. His lips making moist trails down your neck. Not leaving you alone for a moment, not even when people walked past your seats and witnessed exactly what he was doing to you. You'd be the talk of the tour, now.

The soft knock broke your reverie. You flinched, realising you'd been standing in front of the mirror lost in thought. Feeling as if your life was going to change the moment you opened the door. You sprayed some perfume into the air and walked through it as you headed out of the bathroom.

You only opened the door a notch before he slipped through the gap. Hands creeping down your back, gripping your ass cheeks tightly as he pulled them apart and pressed you against the hotel room wall. His mouth was on yours before speaking. Lapping his tongue into your mouth, feeling it brush against yours in a kiss that was the most desperate you'd ever felt him be.

"Fuck!" He groaned, "I can't believe I finally get to do this with you."

He put you down on the bed. Releasing you so that you fell onto the sheets and pillows, the sweetest laughter sounding out from the pit of your stomach.

Ripping open his shirt, he slipped it off his shoulders and began fighting to ease his belt. You watched curiously. Opening your robe to reveal the white bra and panties beneath.

All the laughter gone as you eyed his hard cock. Sitting there beneath his boxers, large and imposing. He gripped it in his hand. moving the erection up a little so that the tip peeked out from his waist band.

"How bad do you want it?" He asked, taking one of your ankles in his free hand and pulling you effortlessly down the bed.

You were under some sort of spell. There was no other explanation for how you found the confidence to respond. You would have fallen into embarrassment otherwise. Afraid to be vocal about what you wanted. Jake liked to talk, and talking was your gift. It made sense to you, more than ever, to use your words.

"I want you so bad, Jake. I can't stand it..."

He nodded, casting his gaze down the length of your body.

"Fuck, you're sweet. You're so god damn sweet, I just want to sink my teeth into every inch of you."

You pointed your toes, lifting your leg up to run the length of his torso. When you ran it back down, you lingered at his waist band. Hooking your toe beneath it, pulling it down just a little further so that his cock sprang free.

"Pain..." You gasped under your breath.

His hand curled around the hard base. "I won't fuck you sore, I'll make sure you're wet enough first."

You could feel the pressure building in your centre. You slipped your hand down beneath your panties and felt the wetness increase. You were already enough for him to slip inside of.

You were about to pull your hand out when he shook his head.

"No. Keep it there." He instructed, making shallow breaths as he began to move his hand up and down his own cock. "Slip your panties to the side, just a little bit. I want to see your lips down there..."

Yours were like little pink ribbons. Your clit was swollen and ready at the peak, the tiny head budding out from beneath the hood as you pulled it back with the flat of your fingers. Keeping your eyes on him the entire time. Allowing the sight of him at the foot of the bed to spur you on.

His head was flushed pink. White beads of pre-cum leaking out onto his fingers as he squeezed at the end. A throbbing vein pulsated down the centre of the shaft, his eyes half closed as he watched you plane your fingers down the slit, opening up your entrance for him to see.

"Take everything off." He ordered, the faded tan lines on his chest from the Vineyard making you smile as he kicked off his boxers.

Jake knelt onto the edge of the bed as you unhooked your bra. Your breasts spilling out of the white lace, round and firm with two hard buds in the centre of rippled goose flesh as you felt a cold shiver down your spine. Everything felt as if it were happening in a dream.

"These eyes stay on me while I'm inside you." He said, a hand suddenly reaching up for your jaw, tilting your face upward as he drank you in. "You understand me?"

You nod pitifully. Knowing his strength. Knowing there was aggression simmering beneath his cool exterior. Knowing you would do anything to placate him. Even though it made your pussy throb to think of how masterful he could be when cornered.

He inched two fingers into his mouth. A trail of saliva hanging down from his lip as he brought them to your needy cunt. You were a trembling mess as he hooked them inside you, watching your face for that blissful relief.

"Tell me how that feels."

You couldn't speak for a moment. Taking in the sensation of him driving into you past his knuckles. His grazed hand came to rest on the bed beside your head, his hair and the chains around his neck reaching down into the space where he hovered above.

"So fucking good." You tried to say, your entire body shaking as he began to pound into you harder.

He grinned that confidence, the one he liked to smirk when he knew that he was doing something right. You'd seen it on his lips before. His pressure was delicious. Using hot force and a curl of his fingers to press down on that sweet spot inside.

You almost felt bereft when he pulled his fingers out completely, returning them to his mouth where he padded them across his tongue. Tasting you. Just the way he had said he would.

"Put your mouth on it." You told him, wondering if you were a part of this dominance play or if you'd stepped out of line.

"You really are a filthy little thing, aren't you?" His head bowed, he slid down your torso and down through the valley of your navel. "Fuck...if this isn't so worth the wait..."

You looked down past the curve of your breasts. To where his wild hair was splayed across your open thighs. His back arched as he opened his mouth. Taking in a full slick lick of your pussy lips that made you moan so loud you couldn't hold back. His lips pursed around your clit, sucking on it and lapping his tongue against the swollen bud.

"Se siente tan jodidamente bien..." You hissed through gritted teeth, trying to keep a grip on the bed sheets.

You felt the vibration of his moan against your clit. Listening to you speak like that, it made him drive his tongue further into your entrance. You felt the softness of it at the opening of your walls. Hearing him swallow your wetness, you tangled your hands into his hair and swept it into your fist.

You took a deep breath and pushed him deeper into your cunt. Hips bucking, pressure mounting in your core. You almost fucked his mouth yourself until he gripped your hips steady and reminded you who was in control.

"Hold still!" He called up, raising his head with your juice dripping from his bottom lip.

You were brought to stillness by his firm grip. His eyes locked on yours as he returned his mouth to you. His nose pressed flush against your clit as he buried his head. You ached to move. Arch your back. Grind your hips. Anything to release the mounting tension.

"I mean it Jake, I'm so fucking close..." You warned him.

You trembled and twitched against his tongue as he slowly brought it to rest at your mound. The sound of his name falling like gentle rain was like music to his ears. Your orgasm belonged to him. He looked up at you and viciously slammed his fingers back inside.

"Well, come on then." He urged. "Give it to me if you want to so badly."

You tossed your head back. He ravaged and ruined you. Pounding his fingers into your cunt violently as he returned to sucking on your clit, harder. The sound was like a wet popping as his fist pressed against your slipper lips. The moans you couldn't hold back shrieking out of you as he deviously refused to stop.

"That's it, baby." You heard him say below the wet pounding and your own vocals, "Show me what that pussy can do."

He watched you. Every breath. Ever shudder. He absorbed it all. Appreciating each and revelling in it all. You were his muse, his morning song. And as you came undone at the tip of his fingers and tongue, he felt your orgasm bloom into his mouth.

"Oh god..." He swallowed hard. "I fucking need it...."

You were still on the fringes of your climax as he pulled you up. Every point in your body a mess of tingles. You met his mouth again and tasted yourself there on his lips.

"Fuck me, Jake."

Positioning you on the pillows, he made you lean back against the head board. Crawling up to meet you, ensuring your eyes never left his.

"Ask me again."

You feel his hard erection pressed against your pussy lips and inner thigh.

"I want you to fuck me so good, Jake."

He lowered his head, coming to rest at your breasts. Scanning them with his tongue, sucking on your nipple as you try to keep yourself from melting into the bed sheets.

"Beg me." He said finally, sinking his teeth into your flesh.

All the words you could think of in any language you had ever known seemed to flee from you. There was only one that remained.

"Please..."

It wasn't enough. "Beg harder."

You sank your fingernails into his back. "Fuck me! Please, I want you to... punish me...for all the times I told you no... make me repent for it... I beg you."

He moved to bring himself into you. Slapping his thick, girthy cock against your still sensitive slit. Before you could scream, he had you pressed against the head board and his cock was buried so deeply inside you it took your breath away.

God, he felt so good. Like your walls had never welcomed such a perfect feeling. He filled you so good, just on the cusp of pain but you were wet enough to handle it. He'd promised you wouldn't be sore afterwards, and you believed him.

"Shit, you feel so..." He faltered, "Fuck, I can't explain it."

His mouth was at your throat. Sticky fingers rested against your wind pipe, not squeezing but simply holding you in place as he rocked into you.

It had all been too much. Too much waiting, too much anticipation.

"Use your words, Jakey, come on..." You closed your legs around his waist and felt him shudder as he thrusted.

He wants as much contact with you as possible. To keep your eyes locked with his. But to also feel your breasts bouncing against his bare chest. He wants to rub your clit as he shoves his cock into you so deep he wants to watch your pussy eat it up until it disappears inside you. He wants all of it whilst listening to you speak.

"Shut up." He managed, sweat dripping off his brow. "Just let me come inside you..."

You might have been offended, but you could tell the hold you had on him had him all speechless. You making him talk was taking him away from all his other senses. Which made you smile because Jake loved nothing more than being vocal.

"Why don't you make me?" You teased. "Fucking me with your big cock like that? You want me to shut up? Fucking come in me..."

As if he could read your mind, he abruptly picked up speed and grunted vividly into the curve of your neck. Slamming into you with his entire body. The sound of his skin slapping against yours is all that echoes in your ears. Muffling out the sound of Jake's tension, his panting as he let's go into your waiting pussy. Convulsing on top of you as you grip him tightly.

His hands come underneath you, kneading your ass cheeks as he slows down. Breathing hard against your chest.

"I had no idea you could fuck like that." You breathed, "You're a dark horse, Jake Kiszka."

He laughed and returned to you for gentle kisses that reminded you he was still the sweet one who had sat with you as you reached out for him in your sleep.

"I protect my woman and I fuck her good." He replied, with a hint of playfulness as he moved apart from you to slump at your side.

You watched his cock soften as he laid there. His seed still sitting at your entrance.

"Oh I'm your woman, am I?" You jested back.

He nodded, but didn't say anything. Before too long he was snoring quietly. Beautifully naked as he was sprawled out on your hotel room bed.

You slowly inched away, heading to the bathroom to clean yourself up while he slept. Feeling a little sore, after all.

.

Soft music serenaded the water as it spilled into the tub. Turning it from limpid to snowy white bubbles frothing on the surface. Candles were flickering in the corner of the tub, the scent lingering in the building steam.

You poured yourself a generous glass of red wine and dipped a toe in. Your hair fastened loosely upon your crown, tendrils of it falling down your neck at the back as you slid into the hot water.

Every muscle gave in to the heat as you submerged your body. Placing your glass on the edge and letting your hands gather the bubbles, you felt your jaw unclench and your mind clear itself of the days concerns.

You were drifting off into a somnolent state when the sound of the front door echoed down the hall. That little click of the lock letting you know that he was home. His footsteps sounded out over the music and you formed an image in your mind of him kicking off his shoes by the door as he propped his guitar case up by the bureau.

"Where are you, beautiful?!" He called, following the sound of the music.

You smiled as you opened your eyes. "I'm in the tub, handsome!"

He appeared in the doorway, leaning against the frame with his arm raised. The buttons of his shirt already open. He looked completely fucked out, pulling a hand through his dishevelled hair.

"That's a sight for sore eyes." He mused, "Just what I needed after looking at three other dudes all night."

"Jake." You rolled your eyes. "That's no way to talk about your brothers."

He came into the bathroom and swiped your glass of wine. Taking a long swig of it before settling on the floor at your side, his elbow propped on the edge of the tub as his hand floated absently over the bubbles.

"It really isn't my fault if all I could think about was getting home to see your pretty little tits sitting on top of the water like that." He said, swirling the bubbles around your nipples. "I practically ran for the door the minute I got your text."

As a matter of courtesy, you liked him to know when you'd be unwinding. Taking care of yourself in his absence. More accurately, you were bored whilst he was at the studio and made a point to let him know you'd be running yourself a nice, hot bath.

"Is that so?" You replied, reaching your wet hand out of the water to meet with his. "What else were you imagining?"

Those calloused fingers entwined with yours. He allowed himself a glance down your body as the bubbles began to disperse. Leaning in, you could smell the coffee on him. No doubt he had sunk cup after cup trying to keep himself alert as the hours ticked on.

Now he was buzzed as he kissed you. His hair slipping away from behind his ears and tickling your collar bone. His lips lazily parting so that he could slip the tip of his tongue into your mouth and get a taste.

"Well, I imagined that for a start." He whispered, pulling away with a wicked grin. "Why don't you just lie back and let me show you everything else?"

You liked it when he came home in these chaotic moods. Like he'd been focussing too hard on something else and just wanted to let his mind wander. You were his little plaything when he was like this. Just a vessel for all the depravity that had been building up inside him.

"Ok, baby." You replied, letting your knees part underneath the water.

His jaw clenched as he reached inside. Soaking his rolled up sleeve as he trailed a hand down your mound and rounded his fingers at the edge of your slit. He rose to his knees at the side of the bath tub as he stared down at you in the water.

"Gonna make a flood, baby." He warned, "Why don't you grab those pretty little tits for me? Hold them steady?"

Your hands rounded the curve of your breasts, the buds of your nipples peeking out from the gaps between your splayed fingers. Jake appraised you silently, his bottom lip tucked between his teeth as he ran his middle finger down the centre of your pussy.

Plunging it into your entrance, he took delight in seeing you gasp. Seeing your face contort. Your mouth lilt open and your eyes plead with him to never stop. The little moan that came out was nothing more than a whimper, but he moaned in unison at the sensation of your pussy clamping around his digit.

"You want another?" He asked, easing it in and out of you deliciously slowly.

All you could do was nod desperately. Your hands squeezing down on your breasts as he slipped another finger in.

"Fucking good girl." He crooned, leaning further over you, ripping into you with such force the water sloshed over the side of the tub and puddled on the tiled floor. "You see why I run home to you when you're like this for me?"

You continued to nod. "Fuck me with those guitar fingers, Jakey."

He didn't need any encouragement. The swell of your clitoris was against his thumb in mere seconds, the hook of his fingers inside you dimmed the music entirely as you let your moans cry out. Your back arched, the water spilling persistently over the edge, pooling at his knees.

His hand was churning up a storm between your thighs. His eyes watching your face as you stared up at him in bliss. Fuck, he was so beautiful when he looked at you like that. Like you were the cause and the effect of his mind not being able to focus on anything else. Like you just did it for him, plain and simple.

"Stellar performance." He breathed, "Got me so fucking hard."

His tongue led his mouth back to you. Kissing you a little more deeply than he had before, his tongue slipping a little further as it brushed against yours. Meshing together as his mouth opened and closed against you.

"Mmmm..." You whined against his lips, "Why don't you take off that shirt? You're wet through."

He had barely noticed. Smirking as he pulled it off his shoulders. Letting it drop into the puddle on the floor. You marvelled at his chest, his smooth stomach and the way it flexed as he stood. Loosening his belt as he looked down at the mess he had made.

"Take off the rest of it." You urged, watching him with your hands still pressed firmly against your tits.

He opened his belt and pulled out his cock. Taking a languid stroke to the tip and round his fist there as he continued to look at you. Pulling down his jeans until they sat snugly around his thighs.

"Not yet, baby." He teased, "I want you all needy for it, first."

There wasn't a time when you didn't need it. The constant thought of his cock was a daily distraction. One that caused you to pause far too often with whatever task demanded your attention whilst you imagined him grovelling on your pussy, getting it ready to receive him.

"I'm needy baby, I promise." You moaned, "Why don't you get in here with me?"

He flashed another heart stopping grin at you as he complied. Letting his jeans hit the ground. Tearing off his boxers and socks until he was stood there completely naked with a raging hard on that made your pussy throb incessantly.

"Rain." He uttered under his breath, never taking his eye off you as he reached for the shower head.

Your cunt was positively a ball of ache as he turned it on. Cool sprinkles of water hitting your flesh just beneath the surface as he adjusted the temperature.

"What are you planning to do with that?" You asked curiously, raking fingertips over your hard nipples as you finally let go of them and slid your hands down your centre.

"Open your pussy lips for me and you'll find out." He instructed, turning the shower head through all the different stream settings.

The first one was always your favourite. A soft, almost spray like fountain that covered your entire body. Perfect for when you needed a quick rinse. The second one you barely used, a little harder than the first but far too sparse in the way it only used the first two rings of the head. The third was a powerful jet that was dominant and forceful, using the inner most rings to shoot out the most intense rush of water. You took note of Jakes raised eyebrow as he settled on that one.

He stepped into the tub carefully. Making sure to keep the water confined to your body. You cried out as it hit your nipples. The vibration of the power behind the water felt like they were being squeezed tightly.

"Does it hurt?" He enquired, a flash of something in his inflection that told you perhaps he wanted it to, a little.

You bit your lip. "In the best way."

Jake slid down into the tub, keeping his legs outside yours. Stretching out, pulling you by your calves until your pussy was almost flush with his erection that was pulsating against his thigh under the water. The shower head bubbling away beneath the surface, you could feel the tickle of it against your mound as he brought it up.

"Let me see your clit." He ordered, his eyes widening as you laced two fingers between your pussy lips and spread them apart.

He marvelled at it. Stroking it furtively with his thumb before bringing the shower head against it. Not directly at first, letting the jet stream edge you as it hit the nerve endings.

"Oh, fuck..." You whined, panting as he pushed it further against your swell.

The sight of him at the other end of the tub, his delight in seeing you so pathetically at his whim was beyond sexy. His hair was wet now and pushed back from his face. The little stubble on his upper lip quivering as he took you in. Legs open and now wrapped almost around his waist. The rest of you laid back, tits bouncing against his onslaught.

"You take it so good." He praised, "Want more?"

Your face silently consented to it, eyes rolling back as he pressed the shower head directly against your clit. The outpour of the jet hitting you so fiercely made your voice ring out clear as a bell. High pitched and ratified. He pressed his hand flat and firm against your pubic bone to hold you steady.

"That's my girl." He soothed, making subtle circles with it. "Tell me how good it feels."

You began writhing your hips against it. Forcing the water pressure to vibrate against your clit.

"Mmmm, you have the most depraved ideas Jakey." You told him, "You can make it rain whenever you want, baby."

He signalled you to lean forward. A little upward tilt of his head, a nod calling for you to meet him in the middle. You pulled yourself upright, the shower head sitting snugly between the two of you. You met him in a violent kiss, tongues exploring deeply and nibbles at your lips.

"Fill me up." You begged, "I need you inside me."

He wickedly pulled your bottom lip away from your mouth with his teeth.

"I'm not done with you yet, beautiful." He purred, "I want you to stand up for me."

You were in no position to argue. You'd been at his mercy ever since he walked through the door. You were a little pouty over the fact you weren't getting what you wanted, and he noticed.

"Oh, you know little brats don't get rewarded, don't you?" He asked tentatively, "Now stand the fuck up."

You didn't say another word. Dripping as you pulled yourself up and out of the water. Droplets cascading down your breasts and hips. Your core sitting just above his gaze.

He turned the shower head around, parting your pussy lips with eager fingertips. You should have known that begging for his cock too soon would mean he would make you wait longer. Justified now, knowing that what he had in mind for you would always make you feel close to heaven.

"I'm sorry baby." You whined, "I didn't mean to..."

His hand was coiled around the handle tightly, pressing the pressure into you before pulling back to watch you glow. Letting it rain from your mound, holding you with his free hand around your thigh.

"Didn't mean to rush me?" He completed your broken sentence. "You know better than that. You know you'll get my cock."

He was enjoying pleasuring you this way. Watching the stream hit your swollen clit and flow down the rest of your pussy. Moving his hand in and out so that the pressure increased and decreased to drive you wild.

Eventually, he dropped it entirely. Pulling you down, making you sit squarely onto his mouth. His wet tongue penetrating you as his nose brushed against the almost numb effect on your clit. The shower head hit the bottom of the tub, spraying out and extinguishing the candles.

In near darkness you he made you ride his face. Knees bent so that you could hold your weight as he dug his fingers into your ass cheeks. Hands pressed into the warm tile behind him, wondering if this had been his plan all along.

"If you don't fuck me soon I'll cum in your mouth before your cock has been anywhere near me!" You warned breathlessly, barely able to string the words together as he gathered your cunt up to savagely eat it.

Jake tore his head back, looking up at you devilishly. The light from the hall outside illuminating the side of his face, the rest of him shrouded in darkness. Torturously handsome. His chin wet, not with the bath water but with you...

"Maybe I'll have you do both." He said, surrendering to you finally.

He moved to stand, grabbing the errant shower head as he rose. Placing it back on it's perch.

"Bend over." He growled, "What's rain without a little thunder?"

The End.

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