Read All of You Online

Authors: Christina Lee

Tags: #Fiction, #Romance, #New Adult, #General, #Contemporary, #Juvenile Fiction, #Love & Romance

All of You (11 page)

 

his phone, and realized she was probably staring at him instead. Or maybe it
was
me. Maybe she was

 

curious about my relationship to him. As curious as I’d been about hers.

 

I could understand why. He was one hot boy.

 

“Your pretty redhead friend is looking this way,” I said as nonchalantly as possible.

 

Bennett heaved a long sigh. “Remember when I told you there was a time I thought I was in love?”

 

My eyes widened. “It was Rebecca?”

 

He nodded and put down his phone.

 

Now I looked at her in a whole new light. Her face was striking and she had a smoking body—tight

 

butt, bigger boobs than mine. “What happened?”

 

“She was my girlfriend in high school,” he said, taking a sip of the soda I had brought him for

 

lunch. “My first love, or so I thought. But she cheated on me—more than once, apparently.”

 

“Hussy,” I said to get a laugh out of him, and it worked. “Should I assume she got to experience the

 

sneaky side of Bennett and maybe even got her hair caught in a certain someone’s zipper?”

 


Maybe,
” Bennett said, with mischief glistening in his eyes.

 

I gulped down the green-eyed monster. That was a long time ago. “Does it still hurt?”

 

“Nah, water under the bridge and all that.” “Well, she’s looking at you like she has some regrets.”

 

“Doesn’t matter; there’s no going back,” he said, shaking his head. “Don’t feel a thing for her

 

anymore.” I couldn’t help wondering if, in a few months’ time, he would say the same thing about
me
.
Chapter Ten
Exhausted and starving, we headed back to the hotel. We decided on dinner and drinks at the hotel bar.

 

We shared wings and mozzarella sticks, along with a couple of beers each.

 

“Gosh, bar food. It’s yummy, but so bad for you. How do you stay in such good shape?”

 

“I like to work out,” he said. “And to answer your earlier question, only one sport in high school—

 

wrestling.”

 

He took a giant swig of his beer. “How about you? How do you keep that little rocking body in

 

shape?”

 

“Kickboxing.” I dipped my head so he wouldn’t see how rosy my cheeks were. “But I’ve always

 

had a boyish figure. I was a late bloomer in the curves department.”

 

“I’d definitely never call you
boyish
, Avery,” he said, before throwing his napkin down. “I’m

 

beat—want to head up?”

 

When we stepped off the elevator, it was hard to miss the couple getting it on in the hallway. His

 

hair shaved short, the guy wore military fatigues and whispered, “I love you” over and over while

 

tenderly kissing the neck of his leggy brunette.

 

Bennett threw me a sideways grin and opened our door with lightning speed.

 

“How long do you think they’ve been separated?” I whispered.

 

“Probably for a long-ass time,” Bennett said. “That would be hard.”

 

“Oh, it’s
hard
,” I snickered, and Bennett burst out laughing.

 

When I stepped out of the bathroom, I noticed the way Bennett’s eyes scanned over my body, despite the fact that I kept my bra on this time and wore long flannel bottoms. Bennett had gone for

 

modest, too, in the pajamas department. He wore black, knee-length gym shorts and a blue YMCA T

 

shirt.

 

I gave him a quick hug good night, inhaled his coconut scent, and thanked him for bringing me. He

 

held on to me for longer than expected, and I realized how nice it felt to be in his arms again.

 

He nuzzled his face in my hair, causing a tingling sensation at the base of my neck, then pulled

 

back.

 

“Did you just sniff me?” I asked.

 

His cheeks lifted into a crooked grin that blazed a trail down to my toes.

 

Despite my best attempts, my attraction to him was only increasing this weekend.

 

Now we stood silent on opposite ends of the room, gazes locked on each other. I was about to say

 

good night when I noticed Bennett close his eyes and swallow forcibly.

 

I thought about making a crack about our double beds, but he was so concentrated and intense. I

 

couldn’t stop staring at the raw emotions on his face, at his clenched fists—it was completely unnerving.

 

Every fragment, every substance, every element occupying the space between us, began to pulse

 

and vibrate. There was so much electricity in the air I could almost hear it sizzle.

 

I wasn’t sure if it was the alcohol I had consumed, or if it was that gorgeous specimen of a boy

 

standing across from me, but I became increasingly aroused.

 

I arched my back and squirmed, my body betraying me, as I imagined Bennett pulling me to his

 

bed, ripping off my clothes, and telling me that he wanted to fuck me senseless.

 

As the tension between us grew denser, I noticed something steadily swelling across the room.

 

Bennett attempted to adjust himself, but it was plain as day.

 

Finally, Bennett turned away, inhaled a deep breath, and then charged toward the bathroom. “I’m

 

going to shower,” he mumbled in my direction.

 

He was as turned on as I was and trying to get far away from me as possible. “Bennett, it’s okay,” I said. I felt pinpricks all over my body. It was all I could do not to reach out to

 

him.

 

“Give me a minute.” He closed the bathroom door, and I heard him lean his full weight against it.

 

“Wait, Bennett.” I had this desperate desire, this powerful need to be near him, to do something

 

about all of this pent-up frustration. If not for me, then for him.

 

I heard the shower turn on right before he yanked open the door. He stepped back in the room to

 

grab something from his bag, which was on the floor by his bed. “I’ll be fine in a few minutes.”

 

The spigot was turned on full blast and steam was already escaping beyond the glass shower door.

 

When he straightened himself, toothbrush holder in hand, I noticed his breathing was labored.

 

I scanned down his body to his full-blown erection and his shaking hands.

 

I felt this overwhelming hunger to touch him as he brushed past me, his stride purposeful.

 

“Bennett,” I whispered. “I want to help.”

 

He stopped suddenly and sucked in a breath. “Fuck, Avery.”

 

I took a step toward him “Please.”

 

One step closer and he didn’t move away. I stood in front of him and saw his dark and hooded eyes,

 

overwhelming desire coursing through them.

 

I inched my fingers to his waistband and he groaned, the container in his hand clattering to the

 

floor. When the tip of his erection poked out of his shorts and met air, his breathing only intensified.

 

Edging my hands beneath his shirt, I pulled it over his head.

 

When he twisted to deposit his shirt on the floor I spotted a second tattoo, low on his back. I

 

remembered what he said about them being well-placed.

 

I smoothed my fingers down his chest as goose bumps broke out over his flesh. I eased his shorts

 

down and let his erection spring free.
Damn.
He was taut, smooth, and all kinds of exquisite.

 

I trailed my hands down his belly to his hips, teasing the area around his erection with my fingers.

 

He grabbed my face and kissed me with such passion and conviction I was begging for air. His mouth was on fire as his tongue tangled deeply with mine.

 

“Bennett, you’re beautiful,” I whispered against his lips.

 

Then I tugged his fingers away from my face and down to his sides. I watched as he balled his fists,

 

but he kept his hands there.

 

I looked into his eyes. “Can I touch you?”

 

His response came out in a muffled pant.

 

I traced my thumb over his silky tip and watched how his chest heaved and his eyes glazed over.

 

When my fingers grasped the length of him the breath caught in the back of his throat. He felt firm and

 

smooth in my steady hands.

 

Bennett knotted his fingers in my hair and then skimmed them along my neckline. I relished every

 

touch, every breath, every time he whispered my name.

 

I pulled his shorts all the way down his legs, and he stepped out of them. “Get in the shower.”

 

Without hesitation he moved backward, crossing over the threshold of the door, and then under the

 

stream of water. I watched as it cascaded off his shoulders and beaded down his chest. I reached for the

 

hotel soap, unwrapping it and running it under the water stream, despite my arms getting wet. I lathered

 

up and then washed the front of him—his neck, his chest, his stomach. When my fingers traced down

 

below to his dark and curly hair, he squeezed his eyes shut and moaned. My fingers were sufficiently

 

soapy, and when I worked my hand up and down the length of him, he braced the shower wall. “Jesus,

 

Avery.”

 

As I moved my fingers fast, and then slow, and then fast again, his hands gripped my shoulders and

 

then trailed down to my breasts. He ran his thumbs over my nipples, which became instantly hard

 

through two layers of clothing. As my breathing intensified so did my caresses. My hands stroked up

 

and down his warm and soapy shaft.

 

“Oh God. I’m close,” he panted.

 

“Come for me,” I whispered against his lips. That was the breaking point as he groaned out his release and tucked his head against my shoulder.

 

The milky white substance washed off his stomach with a swipe of my hands, and I stepped back,

 

dazed, and more than aroused. His eyes locked on mine, and if they hadn’t loosened their hold soon

 

after, I might have come right then and there.

 

I turned away from him as he finished his shower. I brushed my teeth and changed into a dry shirt,

 

and then lay down in my bed, facing away from his. He took five minutes more in the bathroom and I

 

nearly fell asleep, except my mind was far too busy processing everything.

 

When he stepped into the room, I felt his eyes on me, but I didn’t stir. I hoped he thought I was

 

asleep because I didn’t want to have a discussion about what just happened. I didn’t regret it for one

 

moment, but I didn’t want him to read too much into my actions or think it meant more than it did. I

 

wasn’t even sure what it meant at this point. All I knew was that some part of me—some raw and carnal

 

part—longed to reach out to him. Touch him.
Please
him.

 

My mattress caved in from the pressure of his knee, and I squeezed my legs together. I was still

 

cooling down from the intense experience of seeing him naked and making him come.

 

It made me feel powerful in ways I couldn’t explain.

 

“Avery,” he whispered in my ear. “Why did you do that?”

 

“I wanted to,” I mumbled. My eyes fluttered open and I stared out the dark window. “I
needed
to.

 

God, Bennett, you’re amazing. Just leave it at that.”

 

I heard a sharp intake of breath, and then felt his warm fingers on my shoulder. “What if I wanted

 

to do things to you, too?”

 

I shook my head, even though my underwear felt instantly moist. “No Bennett. It’s okay.”

 

God. Just the sound of his voice.
“Besides, you’d be breaking your own . . . code. Just . . . go to

 

bed.”

 

He was silent for so long I wasn’t sure if he hadn’t drifted off to sleep. Finally, he sighed and said,

 

“Good night.” He reached down and placed a hot kiss in the crook of my neck. My shoulders stiffened and I tried unsuccessfully to hold in a moan.

 

“Damn it, Avery.” Then his tongue was stroking my ear and I almost came unglued. I curved my

 

head toward him, my breaths shooting out in hard gasps. I heard a groan in the back of his throat right

 

before he sealed his mouth over mine.

 

His tongue performed a slow dance inside my mouth—relaxed, lazy, and all kinds of sexy. The

 

exact opposite of my pulse, which was steadily climbing to the stars.

 

His hand edged under the hem of my shirt to my stomach and I flinched. His fingers slid to my bra,

 

pushing it up to let my breasts loose. He nudged me flat on my back and lifted up my shirt, exposing me.

 

His eyes raked up and down my body before he swung his knee over my stomach to straddle me. Lifting

 

my arms above my head, he held them captive while he kissed me, soft and gentle, trailing his tongue

 

along my lips.

 

I squirmed beneath him, feeling his hard-on grow against my belly. He tugged off my shirt and

 

unhooked my bra, pulling the lacy material from my arms and then dropping it on the bed. He caressed

 

the length of me with his eyes while my chest heaved.

 

“Perfection,” he whispered against my lips.

 

He lay down on his side while his fingers stroked my breasts and stomach, trailing his nails up and

 

down the center of my chest, driving me insane. My breasts felt swollen and my need turned to

 

desperation. When he traced his thumb around my nipples, my fingers fisted the blankets so tight I

 

thought they might gouge holes.

 

As his hand fingered the edge of my pajama pants I nearly jumped out of my skin. He rose to his

 

knees and gently pulled the pants down my legs and tossed them aside. I had on a pair of pink cotton

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