Fusion (Explosive #5) (6 page)

Holy crap.

Holy crap.

Holy crap.

The thought ran through my mind in super-quick succession as if my brain had suddenly turned into a broken record.

Holy freaking crap.

That was a close one.

I could have killed Chris.

I could have also thanked him.

I’d been on the verge of kissing Sierra, and I wasn’t ready for that.

Was I?

Don’t get me wrong. As Sierra’s breath had hitched, my eyes had locked with hers and all I could think about was placing my lips on hers. I didn’t want forehead or cheek kisses anymore. I wanted her supple lips against mine. I wanted to know if her favorite cherry ChapStick really made her lips as soft as the slender tube claimed. I wanted my tongue to experience the taste of hers after years of her sticking it out at me whenever I’d irritated her. I wanted to wrap my arms around Sierra’s waist, pull her in close, and kiss the hell out of her, blowing any movie kiss out of the water until we got detention for our public displays of affection.

And, suddenly, I wanted that detention more than I wanted anything else in the world.

So yeah, I could kill Chris.

But, now that I was coming back to my senses, it was clear Chris had done me a favor by interrupting a moment that would’ve fundamentally changed everything between Sierra and me. I wasn’t ready. I hated that, but it was the truth. High school was going to bring about so many changes, and the last thing I wanted was to do something to ruin my friendship with Sierra. As much as I wanted to, I couldn’t act on my impulses until I knew what the hell I really wanted. I wasn’t quite ready to take that leap.

But fucking hell. I wished I were.

AFTER OUR NEAR KISS
—I was still calling it that—things were seemingly normal with Jeremy and me. I spent too many hours analyzing every second of that interaction, and every time, I came up with a different conclusion. He’d been going to kiss me. He hadn’t been going to kiss me. I’d been reading it wrong. I’d been reading it right. I exhausted myself trying to figure out what it all meant.

Even if it had truly been a near kiss, Chris’s interruption had put a stop to it. The way Jeremy had jumped away from me as if I’d had the plague still haunted me. In that one move, he’d made it clear it hadn’t meant anything, and that was my final determination. I was convinced that the whole thing was in my head, some sort of wishful thinking.

And let me tell you, that sucked. Big time.

At the end of the day, however, I’d rather not have played tonsil hockey with my best friend if he wasn’t attracted to me. That would’ve been a nightmare. Instead, I brushed my confused feelings aside and settled into my daily routine as a new freshman at Navarre High School. I walked the halls with my shoulders squared and my head held high, and from time to time, I checked out the upperclassmen.

I never admitted it to Jenna, but even the cutest guy in school didn’t hold a candle to Jeremy. The only thing that would help get my mind off his messy brown hair, his infectious smile, and his cute dimples was distance. Unfortunately, I wasn’t getting that, nor did I want it. So I spent day in and day out trying to squelch my attraction to him only to have it grow every single time he flashed his gorgeous smile. It wasn’t easy, but I was clearly a glutton for punishment, because as much as we could be, we were attached at the hip, and when we weren’t together, I wished we were.

Cue the inner sighs.

If I’d been afraid that things would change when we went to high school, I shouldn’t have been. We had every class together and spent what time we could doing homework. It wasn’t much, actually, with his football practices taking up most of his afternoons.

Actually, things
had
changed, just not in the way I’d thought. Our time together had exponentially decreased since we’d started school. He was either on the football field or lifting weights in the field house after school, and I was left sighing at the dining room table, doing my schoolwork on my own. It was too quiet, too lonely, and I was miserable staring out the window at his house, just waiting for him to get home.

It was probably pathetic, but he’d been my partner in crime for six years. I’d come to rely on Jeremy far too much, and I didn’t know what to do with myself when he wasn’t around.

Pretty freaking lame, right?

After a week of moping around, I was starting to annoy myself—as well as my family. Mom suggested I add an extracurricular activity to my schedule, so I decided to try out for the cheerleading squad. It made perfect sense to me, and I didn’t know why I hadn’t thought about it myself. Why wouldn’t I want to be on the sidelines, cheering Jeremy on? Not to mention I’d have front-row seats to him in those super-tight football pants. It seemed like a win-win to me.

I hadn’t told Jeremy that I was trying out because I was nervous and didn’t want him to be disappointed if I didn’t make it. Failure wasn’t something I was used to, and I didn’t want to be pitied if I wasn’t on the list of names at the end of the week. So that’s why he was my first stop after the results were posted. It’d been nearly a week since we’d been able to hang out for more than an hour after school, and I missed him. I couldn’t wait to see him, and as I opened his front door and raced down the hall, nervous butterflies swirled in my stomach.

“I made it!” I shouted, throwing his door open and barreling into his room. In my haste, I almost missed the fact that Jeremy’s shorts were pushed down, his penis was out and on full display, and he was stroking it.

I
almost
missed it.

My feet immediately stopped moving as I stared at him lying on the bed…pleasuring himself.

Oh. My. God.

There it was. His penis in all its brilliant glory. His large hand was gripping it tight, moving up and down in a long, quick pulls.

Up.

Down.

Up.

Down.

I wondered for a quick second if he wasn’t doing it too fast, but then a grimace formed on his face and he emitted a low moan. His eyes were closed tight as he moved his fist faster, faster, faster.

Clarence Carter’s “Strokin’” came to mind, and I slapped my hand over my mouth as my eyes widened. I knew I should look away, but I couldn’t. It was like his penis was a magnet and my eyes were the metal. I was transfixed. I was mesmerized. I was drawn to watching this act, one I’d never seen before. Hell, I’d never even seen a penis before. And, suddenly, my interest level skyrocketed.

I took a step farther into the room, wanting to get a good look. Unfortunately, I didn’t notice the gym bag in the doorway until I was tripping over it.

“SIERRA!”

Jeremy’s frantic shriek snapped me out of my trance, just as his…stroking was coming to fruition. Apparently, in his…umm…throes of ecstasy, it’d taken a moment to register that I was there. Not that it deterred him from what he was doing.

He apparently couldn’t stop himself, and I couldn’t stop watching.

Oh. My. God.

I mean, I’d heard about this in health class, and Ryan—the self-proclaimed class perv—joked about jacking off all the time, but actually seeing it in person was fascinating.

It wasn’t quite like I’d imagined. To me, I’d always had this picture of Old Faithful erupting and shooting straight up out of the tip, gushing and drenching everything in its path. But this wasn’t like that. It didn’t shoot fast, but it also wasn’t a dribble. It was a couple of quick spirts and penis twitches. The white substance appeared thicker than I’d thought it would. It was weird to think that millions of tiny sperm were swimming in that little bit of…stuff.

Once again, I wanted a closer look, so I took another step into the room.

And then Jeremy shouted my name again.

I stopped in my tracks after I’d realized what I’d done. My eyes—sadly—left his now deflating member and whipped up to his face, where I was greeted with a contorted, conflicted mask of pleasure and mortification. That’s when the reality that I’d just seen Jeremy get off finally set in. And I…

I wanted to watch again.

Mortified couldn’t even begin to describe what I was feeling at that moment. God, had I really just stood in the doorway and watched while he’d done that? I shook my head and blinked a couple of times, hoping to wake up.

No such luck.

I wasn’t in a dream. I wasn’t in some alternate reality. I was still in Jeremy’s bedroom. I had just walked in on my best friend jacking off, and instead of quietly closing the door and coming back later, I’d watched.

And I’d liked it.

My cheeks flamed at the thought. A fluttering took hold in my belly, and I had the sudden urge to squeeze my thighs together, wanting to relieve some of the unexpected tingling that’d snuck up on me.

Holy hell. I was turned on.

“Sierra,” he repeated. This time, it wasn’t a scream. It was a panted plea.

But what was the plea? Did he want me to come closer? Or put as much distance between us as possible? Part of me wanted to meet him on the bed, where I could explore his body. The other part of me knew I had to get out of there.

So I turned and ran out of his room like a bat out of Hell was chasing me.

His dad called out a greeting from the living room, but I was too freaked out to respond. In fact, I scurried out the front door, down the steps, and past my own house. I didn’t stop running until I’d made it to the gazebo overlooking the water. Bending over as my side cramped, I sucked in deep breaths and tried to get the vision of Jeremy’s man parts out of my brain.

But I was failing. It was all I could see. It wasn’t even just the sight of his penis that turned me on. It was watching him in the act. The performance I’d just witnessed? It was incredible. Now, I was breathless for another reason.

I wanted to go back and observe repeatedly, this time with a close up view. Perhaps with some audience participation.

The thought caused my cheeks to flush. With heat or embarrassment, I wasn’t actually sure. But the truth was I was both aroused and mortified.

I wanted to move far away and never see his face again.

It was confliction at its finest.

I had no idea how long I stared out at the water, replaying the scenario over and over and over. It could’ve been hours. It could’ve been mere minutes. Either way, I still wasn’t ready to face him when he cleared his throat behind me. I didn’t know if I’d ever be. So I froze, sitting as still as a statue, acting as if he couldn’t see me. Waves of emotions poured over me. Humiliation. Avid curiosity. That damned arousal. A strange fear also set in, but later, I’d understand that as a primal urge.

“Sierra.” His soft voice called to me, almost sounding pained.

As much as I wanted to pretend I couldn’t hear him, the whisper of my name on his lips forced me to turn around. I took a deep breath and plastered a smile on my face when I saw that he was dressed. Then I shimmied my hips, figuring humor was the best way to deal with this…situation. The last thing I wanted was for things to be weird between us just because we’d finally gotten to the age where knocking was a must before bursting into each other’s rooms. And even more so, I didn’t want Jeremy to realize I was flustered from having seen him in that state. Or that I wanted a second peek.

He leaned against a wooden pole, watching me with cautious eyes. Even still, his eyes weren’t meeting mine. It was clear he didn’t know what to say. Neither did I, short of asking if I could see it again.

Then I knew exactly what to do to break the silence. A not-so-sexy rendition of “Strokin’” left my lips.

At first, he didn’t look amused, but once I started singing about the directions in which I’d stroke (or the ones in which I’d like to watch him stroke), his lips twitched and curved into a smile he couldn’t fight anymore. First to the east. Then to the west. I nearly faltered over the line of who I’d stroke it to. But somehow, I pushed through, even though a tingle started between my thighs at the thought of Jeremy stroking it to me. I knew better, but it didn’t make me want him any less.

“Ha. Ha. Very funny, Sullivan,” he grumbled, stalking towards me.

There it was again.
Sullivan
. It was the proverbial cold shower I’d needed to extinguish my arousal. At least, it was until he placed his hands on my hips to still my movements. The image of where those hands had just been ignited my desire and brought it to new heights.