Fusion (Explosive #5) (7 page)

“This is how it’s done.”

He released me from his hold and stepped back into the middle of the gazebo. As he broke out into a much better version of the song, I had a hard time containing my giggles. By the time he was done, I was doubled over, laughing harder than the situation warranted, but I couldn’t help myself. When I calmed down, I stood up straight, and he was watching me with his arms folded across his chest.

“If you’re done…and well, I saw you finish…” I paused as he blushed.

I’d never seen that look on his face before. It was adorable, yet as soon as I had that thought, I knew I’d never think of Jeremy Banks as adorable again. Not after what I’d seen. No, he was hot. He was…sexy.

He studied me carefully. I had a feeling he was shocked at how nonchalant I was about the whole thing. Hell, even I was surprised I wasn’t freaking out. I figured I’d have time for that later though, when I was home alone in my room. In private. Because stroking isn’t just for boys, you know.

Suddenly, I wanted to be back at my own place, doing my own thing. I had to get out of there.

“I’m tired. I think I’m going to call it a night,” I told him as I walked past him and started down the long, wooden walkway towards our neighborhood.

“Hey, Sierra?” he asked. All playfulness had disappeared, and the serious tone caused my nerve endings to tingle with anticipation.

I stopped and looked back at him. A silence hung in the air as we stared at each other.

“Yeah, Jer?”

“You know it’s natural, right? All guys do it,” he said a bit hesitantly.

Waving a hand as it if weren’t a big deal, I nodded. “Yeah, yeah. I know
all
about what boys do when they read
Playboy
or watch
Baywatch
or whatever turns you on.”

That was when I realized I wanted to be what turned him on. Could he ever think of me that way?

His eyes fell away from me as his Adam’s apple bobbed up and down. My heart fell a little because I’d probably just mentioned one of the things he’d used to help…move things along. Great. Just great. Now, I’d freak out any time he had a magazine in his hands.

“What about you?”

My eyes widened as he stared out at the surf, doing his best not to look at me. “What about me?” I asked.

His head turned, and his eyes were full of curiosity. I knew what was coming, and even though I could’ve stopped it by going ahead and answering his unasked question, I didn’t. I wanted to hear it come from his lips. And I didn’t have to wait long.

“Do you…masturbate?”

My mouth dropped open in shock at the fact that he had actually been able to get the word out without giggling like a schoolboy like he and Chris used to do when anything remotely sexual came up. Wow. Things really had changed.

“What?!” I gasped even though I had known it was coming. I hadn’t actually thought he’d say the word out loud. As if I’d ever answer that question. Not for him.

“You know…click the mouse. Rub the love button.”

“That’s none of your business!” I shrieked, horrified that he’d turned this around on me.

A slow, satisfied grin settled on his face as a dreamy expression took over. “I’ll take that as a yes.”

I crossed the gazebo and shoved his shoulder. “Whatever. That is not what I said.”

He grasped my arm and pulled me in close. His lips hovered just above my ear, his warm breath causing me to shiver. If I turned my head, our lips would brush. Chris wasn’t there to interrupt this time, and it felt like the perfect moment. I was trying to muster up the courage to do just that when his deep voice filled my ear.

“Exactly, Sierra. It’s what you didn’t say. And, now, I have the perfect visual the next time I’m
strokin’.
”

His voice was sexy, seductive, and it sent a shot of pleasure straight between my legs. For the first time in my life, I was positive I was turned on, and all I wanted to do was touch myself.

I apologize, Divinyls, for all those years I made fun of your song.

Because, from that moment on, whenever I thought about Jeremy Banks, I wanted to touch myself.

My eyes widened as my cheeks flamed. I’d never had masturbatory thoughts before. Despite the cool breeze coming off the water, I was on fire. My palms were sweaty, clammy, and I had the urge to clench my thighs together. At the time, I had no idea what was happening, but I wanted friction down there, and I wanted it immediately.

He apparently missed the way I’d gone silent. He definitely missed the way I was biting my lip and staring at him as if he were the juiciest steak and I was a starving bodybuilder. Instead of reading my body language—and thank goodness for that—he just laughed and grabbed my hand, which I promptly pulled away. I’d never been more thankful that the annoying little Barrister kids down the street had broken the lightbulb in the gazebo or that the homeowners association hadn’t gotten around to replacing it yet. The moonlight was doing a great job of masking my first experience with arousal.

Strokin’.
God, I’d never be able to hear that word—or that song—again and think of it the same way.

My heart was hammering, and I couldn’t get the damn image of him doing just that out of mind. He had the perfect visual? No way. I was pretty sure I did. Even more than that, I was pretty sure I’d just stepped aboard the Sexual Sierra Sullivan Express and I was ready for that ride. Not with Jeremy—hell no. It was way too soon for that—but with myself. Self-experimentation and all of that good stuff.

Not that he’d
ever
know that truth, no matter how many times he asked.

Shit. I needed to get away, and I needed to do it quickly.
Hello, stage left. There’s my exit. End scene. Let’s start over tomorrow.

“Whatever, Banks. You can watch
Dawson’s Creek
alone tonight!” With that, I stormed off in the direction of my house.

I wasn’t actually mad—I just didn’t trust myself around him any longer that night.

His laughter seemed to echo all around me. Flashes of him lying on his bed played on repeat, and my legs moved faster, hoping to put enough distance between us.

“Or not at all! I hate that chick show anyway!” he called after me. “I’ll go home and watch
Baywatch
instead!”

I bristled at the thought. It was silly because he was just egging me on. Ever since
Dawson’s Creek
started earlier that year, we’d both been hooked. We’d watched every episode together, and even though he complained at times, I knew he secretly loved it.

And that was why I was not surprised in the least when, just two hours later, Jeremy knocked on my window.

See? We were already learning. Not that he’d have interrupted anything. That’s another story for another time. When? How about never? Let’s just say I finally took care of business.

So much for thinking time or distance would help stamp out my desire. As soon as he climbed through the window, my eyes went to his groin. I was disappointed that it was covered up.

Don’t get me wrong though. I wasn’t ready for sex with Jeremy—or anyone. I wasn’t ready for
anything
physical. But that didn’t mean I wouldn’t have minded another peek. Look, my curiosity had been piqued, and I wanted a closer glance. Even if it was just anatomical examination… Clinical… For research purposes. Yep, that’s what I told myself, trying not to feel like a perv for wanting to check out my best friend’s package.

I shook my head clear of the thought as he slid his shoes off and settled onto the bed beside me as he usually did. We assumed our positions—him sprawled out with his arm open wide, and me curling up beside him. He absentmindedly ran his fingers through my hair as I cuddled up against his warm chest. It’d always been innocent and friendly.

Until just then.

Nothing about our snuggling felt platonic, even if the whole feelings thing was completely one-sided. Ugh, I felt like I was in an old episode of bad television—the girl with unrequited feelings. Yep, that was me.

If Mom and Dad had any idea of how I was starting to feel about Jeremy, or what had transpired a couple of hours ago, we’d be ordered out of the bedroom, on separate couches, with Lexi between us and Dad glaring at Jeremy the entire time, waiting for him to make an inappropriate move. Don’t worry, Dad. Your little girl was safe. He’d never made a move, and I was pretty sure he never planned on it. I was the only predator in the bed that night, and instead of doing anything I wanted to, I fixated my eyes on the television as Joey and Dawson tried to figure out where to go with their relationship after an amazing—and unexpected—first kiss between best friends.

It was silly, but I was insanely jealous of that kiss. I wanted that kiss. However, I was never going to get that kiss, and boy, did that blow.

Like I said, my life was beginning to feel like a television show. Only I wasn’t Joey, and I wasn’t kissed senseless by the boy of my dreams.
Thanks again, Chris. Jerk.

“What were you so excited about telling me earlier?” he asked during a commercial break.

In all the
excitement
, I’d completely forgotten about the whole reason I’d burst into his room. His own version of bursting had distracted me.

God, I had to stop thinking about it.

It took a moment for me to remember what had even happened earlier that afternoon. When I did, I sat up and beamed at him. He smiled at me, those freaking dimples deepening. I could’ve stared at those dimples all day. More than anything, I wanted to kiss them. Then his lips while my hands held his face, my thumbs pressing into those little indentations as I held his mouth to mine. Maybe if I just did it, with no one there to distract us, then I could blame the show. Just wanting to see what would happen if we did what they had done. I had just started to lean down when his voice stopped me.

“Sierra?” he prompted, pulling me out of my gaze.

Oh crap. That was a close one.
I cleared my throat and clapped my hands.

“You’re looking at the newest Raiders cheerleader!” I informed him proudly.

His eyes went wide, lighting up at my words while the corners of his mouth turned up. “Seriously?” He lifted up and rested on his elbows, the excitement emanating from him.

It warmed my heart. Still, I told myself not to read too much into it. We did everything together. It made sense he’d be happy that we’d have this, too.

I nodded. His smile grew wider.

“Seriously,” I confirmed.

“So, you’ll be at all my games?” he asked, awe transforming his face. As if I wouldn’t have gone to them anyway.

“Every. Single. One.” I drew the words out for added emphasis.

Not that he’d needed it. He was already sitting up and gesticulating wildly with his hands, doing his own sort of silent cheer.

“You have no idea how happy this makes me, Sullivan. It’s freaking perfect. Me on the field, kicking ass and taking names. And you on the sidelines, cheering me on and wearing my number on your cheek.”

The truth was I did know. Because I felt the same way. But, instead of admitting it, I merely shrugged.

“You know the deal, Banks. Where you go, I go.”

“And don’t you ever forget it.”

I couldn’t if I’d tried.

I just hoped it wouldn’t bite me in the ass later on.

As a rule of thumb, I never got embarrassed. It was a blessing and a curse. A blessing because I did some pretty hilarious stuff. A curse because, half the time, I ended up grounded. But I was me, and embarrassment wasn’t in my genetic makeup. I’d tried blaming it on my parents once. You can guess how well that one went over. Here’s a clue: My punishment doubled. But even Dad hadn’t blamed me too harshly for trying. Mom, however, had not been amused.

There wasn’t a dare I wouldn’t accept. Well, aside from that one time Chris had dared me to moon Sierra while our moms were sitting beside her on the beach. I was a jokester, but I wasn’t stupid. But, when he’d bet me that I wouldn’t prank call our fifth-grade teacher looking for Jack Hoff, I’d picked up the landline right away. Fortunately, Mrs. Miller hadn’t had caller ID. Or she at least hadn’t cared enough to call back. I’d figured she was used to it, but that hadn’t stopped us from looking up random numbers in the phone book and telling stupid jokes to whomever answered.