More Than Forever(29)

"This shit's not funny. Tell me or I'll punch them both."

She laughs at that, and for a split second I want to, too. I sound like an asshole. I am an asshole. I put a hand on her waist, the other in her hair, pulling her closer to me. "I don't like it," I state, forcing myself to calm down. "You're mine, and assholes here need to know that."

"Okay." She nods, reaching up and kissing me quickly. "Um..." She chews her lip and looks away, her cheeks redder than they were only moments ago.

"What, Luce? What were you going to say?" I duck my head and block her vision, making sure she has no choice but to look at me.

"The older girls, I see them wearing their boyfriend's jerseys... with their names on the back... you—I mean me—we... we could do that?"

My eyes widen, and so does my pathetic grin. "You'd want to do that? You're not an object, I don't want you to think that I own you."

She shrugs. "Why not? I'm yours."

*

I never did find out which Adam it was so I threaten to punch them both. Logan laughs, but I don't care. Lucy makes me punchy.

-LUCY-

I look down at the jerseys on top of my feet. They've just fallen out of my locker. There has to be over twenty of them. All with the name Gordon printed on the back.

"I didn't know which one would go best with these short frilly skirts and cowboy boots you always wear, so I gave you choices." He kisses me once, tugging on my top, before leaning his shoulder on the locker next to mine. "Good morning."

I try to contain my smile. "Morning." I pick a random one and shrug it on. "How do I look?"

He stands frozen. Eyes wide, mouth open, frozen.

"Cam?"

He snaps out of his daze and looks around—the halls are empty. He knows I like to come to school early, so now he does, too. Apparently spending every second of our free time together wasn't enough. Not for us. We need the extra half hour.

Taking my hand, he leads me to an empty classroom. He closes the door behind me and slowly maneuvers me against it. He leans in close, his breath brushing my cheek when he whispers in my ear, "You look..." He pulls back, unable to finish his sentence. His eyes roam me from head to toe. I can feel the heat take over my body. He moves in, placing his lips on mine, but he doesn't move them. It's like he's hesitating and I have no idea why. Finally, he opens his mouth, letting out a moan at the same time.

And then he kisses me.

Holy shit, does he kiss me.

We've kissed before, more than a few times. Each kiss is better than the last. But they've always been just that. Kisses. This—this is driven by pure need. Pure want.

He pauses, takes a breath, and whispers, "Shit." Then continues where he left off. I pull on his shirt, wanting him as close as possible. There's resistance. Why is he resisting? I release his shirt, grip his hips, and roughly pull him to me.

He immediately stops kissing and lets his head fall on my shoulder. And I'm glad he does because my jaw's on the floor and I've lost the ability to move.

"Luce," he whispers, stepping back.

I try to swallow, but my eyes won't leave the huge bulge in his shorts.

"It's not like I can help..." His words die in the air when he sees my hand rise.

The rest of my body is frozen, but my hand won't stop reaching for him. My eyes are fixed. They can't look away.

"Luce," he says again, almost like a warning.

My hand flattens on his stomach as I take a step forward.

I lift my head to see him watching me. Not my hand, but my face. His eyes bore into mine. His mouth's clamped shut and his jaw's tense.

I move my hand lower.

His eyes drift shut.

Lower.

He lets out a groan.

And then I touch it.

"Shit," he breathes.

"Penis," I squeak.

***

Penis.

Penis Penis.

Penis Penis Penis.

That's all I've thought about since touching him this morning. I had to draw a diagram of test tubes in science lab. You know what I drew? Penis.

Penis Penis.

"I have a lot of homework tonight, so maybe skip coming over?"

He pulls his bike out of the rack but refuses to look at me. "Okay, see ya!"

-CAMERON-

For twenty minutes I try to catch Mark's gaze while him and Mom sit on the couch watching TV. When he finally realizes, I inconspicuously jerk my head toward the stairs. "My room," I mouth.

His eyes narrow in confusion.

I widen my eyes, and do it again, as if doing so will make him understand.

He shakes his head slowly.

"Now," I mouth, and then run up the stairs and into my room.

He makes me wait another ten minutes before knocking on my door. He must be able to see the panic on my face because his confusion turns to concern. "What's with you?"

"Something's wrong with my dick."