Forever Love: A Novella Collection, page 24
I blinked away tears as he cupped my face and tilted my head back so that I was looking up at him. "We're together now," he said. It was as if he somehow knew exactly what I was thinking.
I nodded, but then forgot to think entirely when he gently pushed me back so that I was flat on the bed before he came down over me. Sealing our lips together, he kissed me deeply, with a passion that made my core throb with need. I whimpered when his chest rubbed against mine, my pebbled nipples aching from the contact. I parted my legs and gripped his hips with my outer thighs as he settled in. He held himself up over me with one arm. With his free hand, he started playing with my clit again. The sound of my wetness was unmistakable, but the way Jackson growled with appreciation told me there was no reason to be embarrassed. My nerve endings felt like they were on fire, every inch of me sensitized and ready.
“You’re so fucking wet, but even with that, when I put my cock in you, it’ll hurt at first,” he groaned.
I whimpered as he pinched my clit. “I don’t care,” I said firmly. “I waited for you and I want you inside of me now, Jackson.”
He nodded as he positioned the head of his cock at my opening. I moaned at the first touch of his fat cock getting ready to make me a woman. He pushed in slowly, the width of the head as it penetrated me creating a stretching sensation that left me breathless. I clenched around it, whimpering when he growled low in his throat.
“Fucking tight,” he hissed.
I gasped as he pushed forward slowly, a little bit more of him sinking inside of me. My hands went to his ass, gripping the muscular globes as he slowly rocked in and out.
“Oh, please,” I begged, “put it all the way in.”
He looked up and met my eyes, assessing me silently. “It’s okay,” I assured him. “Do it.”
He jerked his head in acknowledgment as he pulled back and then pushed forward again, firmer and harder. My body felt like it was in overdrive, a parade of sensation slamming into me at lightning speed. When he pushed through my barrier and buried himself all the way, I cried out in wonder. We weren't virgins anymore.
“Holy shit,” I gasped.
Jackson stayed still as his cock jerked inside of me. After a minute of gentle movements, I needed more. “Fuck me,” I whispered. “Make me your bad girl.”
It was as if my words pressed a trigger. He reared back and thrust back in, repeating that motion a dozen times as I adjusted to the back and forth movements. The feel of his thick cock inside of me was incredible, so good that I whimpered and mewed out sounds I’d never made before.
“God, Chloe, fuck,” he groaned.
The rhythmic perfection of his thrusts and the feel of his ass clenching and unclenching beneath my hands drove me wild. He stared into my eyes as he fucked into me faster, our moans filling the room as our hips moved in unison. I couldn’t believe how good it felt. The pain was gone, and only pleasure remained.
“I think,” I whimpered, “Fuck, Jax, I think I’m going to come.”
“Rub your clit,” he ordered.
I didn’t hesitate to slide my hand between us. I shuddered when my index finger made contact with my puffy clit. I was so wet, wetter than I’d ever been, hot and sticky like my body had been waiting for this moment forever.
“Jackson!” I cried as I rubbed circles on my hot button, my core clenching around his cock.
He slammed into me faster and faster, the feeling so incredible I thought I’d pass out from lack of air. I arched my back and yelled his name as I came, my pussy throbbing with pleasure unlike anything I’d ever experienced with my showerhead.
“That’s it,” he growled, “come all over my cock, baby. Fucking love all your cream on me.”
I wailed as he fucked harder, my orgasm rolling on and on, an out of control ride that seemed to have no end in sight. “Fuck, Chlo, I’m going to come.”
His entire body shook as he rooted himself in deep and started doing just that, the heat of his come making my release escalate to another level. He fucked into me frantically as he came, one hot burst after another filling me. I'd stopped rubbing my clit but my hand was still between us so I slid my fingers down to where we were joined, shivering when I felt the heat of our come on my fingers as it dripped out of me each time he pulled back and thrust in.
When he was done, I stared into his eyes as I brought my hand up and licked my middle finger. His eyes flared as I traced his lips with my index finger, sliding it inside so he could suck the taste of us from my finger. Inside me, his still hard cock jerked three times in quick succession.
“Keep tempting me and you’ll be lucky if you’re able to walk tomorrow,” he growled.
I wiggled my eyebrows and grinned. “Challenge accepted.”
We spent the rest of the night in bed. Although I was able to walk the following day, I felt him inside of me with every move I made. I was more than fine with that since we had a lot of time to make up for.
Epilogue
Jackson, The following weekend
“Dude, you guys are nuts. You went from years of avoiding each other to being together pretty much around the clock,” Alec snickered. “You’re now the most pussy whipped guy I know.”
He’d said it low so that my parents and Chloe’s dad wouldn’t hear.
“This from the most whipped guy I know,” I countered under my breath.
He gave me the finger as we both burst out laughing before we got back to work. The five of us were busy finishing fanning out the sixty yellow helium balloons around my living room that I’d had delivered half an hour before. I was going all out for a few reasons.
The first reason being that Chloe had officially moved in with me the day before. The second reason was the call she’d gotten three days before to let her know she’d gotten the job she wanted at Early Intervention.
Currently, Caroline was keeping her busy at the spa while I decorated my apartment with my parents, Uncle Leo, and Alec. The champagne I’d bought to mark the occasion sat on the table next to a dozen yellow roses that I’d picked up earlier.
The third reason I was going overboard felt like it was burning a hole in my pocket.
“They’re here,” my mom called out from her post at my front window.
I’d expected to be nervous, but instead I was calm and centered like I’d been waiting my entire life for what was about to happen. Probably because I had been.
My entire focus went to the door to my apartment as I waited for Chloe to enter. When it swung open, I dropped down on one knee. Her mouth dropped as she came to an abrupt stop, her eyes wide as she looked at me. I was centered by the certainty in her eyes. We both wanted what was about to happen, and I knew what her answer would be.
“Chloe Annabelle Holland, other half of my devoted heart, will you marry me?”
She was nodding before I’d even finished the question. “Yes! Of course yes. So much yes,” she blubbered, tears rolling down her beautiful cheeks.
The room was full of applause from our family and friends as I slid a heart-shaped diamond ring onto her slim finger. We heard a similar sound four months later when we were married at the Bliss County Church.
* * *
Chloe
Two years later
“What the hell do you think you’re doing?”
I let out a dramatic sigh as I set the small detailing brush I’d been holding down on my tray. I’d only just started outlining with paint, so it wasn’t like I was working up a sweat.
“I think it’s pretty obvious that I’m painting a mural,” I said in a teasing tone.
“You shouldn’t be exerting yourself, baby. I’ll do it.”
I shook my head as I walked into my husband’s arms. “I’m not handicapped, Jax. I’m seven months pregnant and healthy as a horse. Also, I love you more than anything in the world, but at last check your artistic ability was nil. I want our daughter’s nursery scene to be perfect and the brush hardly weighs anything. You worry too much.”
He really did, but I adored his overprotective alpha ways. “Can you at least wait until I’m here to watch?” he asked on a sigh.
I chuckled against his chest. “Yes, honey, I’ll wait. What do you think of it so far?”
He was silent for a moment as he looked at the scene I'd sketched out throughout the day.
I smiled when he sucked in a breath of surprise as he took it all in and realized what he was looking at. “Holy shit, baby. It’s so detailed I feel like I’m at the carnival. I notice you got Aria’s crystal ball in there.”
I nodded as I turned in his arms and pointed to what was next to the crystal ball. “Not only did I get the ball, I got our card. That’s going to be the wheel of fortune card.”
“How lucky am I to have you?” he murmured as he turned me in his arms.
I smiled and wrapped my arms around his neck. “I think it’s the other way around,” I admitted.
I meant it. He was the most amazing partner ever. If I’d known I’d be as happy as I was with him, I’d have accepted his first marriage proposal—way back when we were in first grade.
The End
Out of Formation
Copyright
Out of Formation
© 2017 Ella Fox
ALL RIGHTS RESERVED. This book contains material protected under International and Federal Copyright Laws and Treaties. Any unauthorized reprint or use of this material is prohibited. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by an information and retrieval system without express written permission from the Author/Publisher.
This is a work of fiction. Names, characters, places, and incidents either are the product of the authors imagination or are used fictitiously, and any resemblance to actual persons, living or dead, business establishments, events, or locales is entirely coincidental.
Edited by Gemma Rowlands
1
Elena
My backpack is in the process of sliding down my arm when Becky Hillstrom—of the acclaimed Virginia Hillstroms, she frequently brags— starts one of her infamous inquisitions. Her firing off questions is in no way surprising since we jokingly refer to her as The Interviewer because she never stops.
“How was your uniform fitting? Did you get that body butter I told you about with the shimmer, the one that doesn’t smell like alcohol? And last but not least, tell me you took the time to read Julia's email.”
I nod as I set my bag on the floor and slide into my seat.
“Which one is a yes?” she asks.
I let out a little laugh as I unzip my bag to pull out my iPad, a notebook, and a pen, all of which I set out on the desk.
“Most of the above,” I answer. “The fitting went well—no gains since last year, which means I didn’t get any crap from Mandy. The body butter is as good as you said it would be, I’m so excited I finally found one that complements my apricot and honey body wash. As far as Julia’s email goes, I got it on my way here but didn’t even have time to skim it. Feel like breaking it down for me or should I start reading?”
The way Becky’s face lights up tells me that whatever the email says, it’s exciting and she cannot wait to fill me in. Her expression suggests it’s either significant team news or unbelievably juicy gossip.
When she dramatically leans closer to my desk, I’m sure there’s gossip involved. “I freaking knew you wouldn't have read it! Honey, prepare yourself because I am about to give you some knowledge.”
I snort out a laugh and nod my head. “Hit me,” I joke. No doubt this is gossip based, but I'm betting it’s nothing too good seeing as how this is the first day of our senior year in college. There hasn’t been time for anything exciting to happen with our group since a lot of people only arrived back in town over the last few days.
Since I spent the majority of the last eight weeks camped out on the couch at home trying to get over a broken heart, I’ve been pretty oblivious. Not anymore, though. As of today, I’ve officially pulled my head out of my ass, and I am going to get back into the swing of things. No more sad sack me. From now on, it’s all going to be positive.
“Coach Adams got fired. F-I-R-E-D fired,” Becky announces dramatically.
My brows shoot up as I take in the information. Coach Adams has been the head coach of the Tigers for the last thirty years. In this town, he is to football as God is to earth. There’s a freaking statue of him out in the front quad for goodness sake, and each year theres a parade in his honor after the last game of the season. In the three seasons I’ve been a cheerleader for the university I’ve never heard anything less than reverential about him, which honestly has always struck me as a bit weird. Personally, Ive always found him a bit pompous and a lot stiff, but that’s just me.
Football is a serious money maker here. Having a Division I football team and an award-winning cheerleading squad is a big deal at the university, and Coach Adams's high profile got the football team and the cheer squad a lot of money for equipment and travel. Whether he’s the warmest guy in the world or not, he’s like a religion in this town and on this campus. I can’t imagine the athletic department without him at the helm.
The more I think it over, the easier it is to conclude that Becky is wrong. There’s no way Coach Adams is gone. I’m pretty confident he could run around the quad naked, and no one would say a word.
“Wait a minute,” I say, my tone dripping with suspicion. “You’re pulling my leg, right?”
Becky shakes her head. “No,” she whispers emphatically. “He had an affair with a student last year and then dumped them during the summer. Apparently, it wasn’t the first time he’s slept with a student—but it was the first time the student he dumped had pictures and video to share with the administration. It was also the first time Coach Adams was dumb enough to have had an affair with someone who comes from a family full of major donors to the university. Even though technically the student is now an alumnus, it’s provable that the affair took place over the course of their senior year.”
It’s the juiciest thing to happen at our school since ever. I’m shocked but also endlessly curious about who Coach Adams had an affair with. “Shut. Up,” I whisper-squeak. “Does anyone know who the student was?”
When Becky’s eyes light up as she grins like a Cheshire Cat I can tell she’s been waiting for this very question. “That shitty little ass-grabber, Michael. Freaking. Simmons.”
Swear, my eyes bulge out of my head for like four seconds. Maybe even five. My brain rejects her assertion in the most definitive of ways. Michael Simmons was one of the biggest douchebags on campus. He graduated last year, but for the three years he was on campus when I was, he managed to hit on or have sex with every girl I know. “There’s no way—”
“Bible, this is the truth,” Becky assures me. “I thought everything you’re thinking right now when I found out. Captain of the football team, future president, Mr. Never-Without-a-Girl-on-His-Arm and voted Most Likely to Have Five Wives is at least bi, if not gay. To say he hid it well is an understatement.”
“How is no one talking about this on Facebook or Snapchat? Both are like gossip central to this school,” I point out.
“It’s because the whole thing is just starting to leak out now. By later tonight, social media and the entire campus will be on fire with gossip since we’ll all be getting read the riot act this afternoon. A lot of this was covered in Julia's email, which you really should have read on general principle alone considering she’s your coach,” she says dryly.
I give a sheepish shrug because it’s not like I can argue the point. She’s right.
“Anyway,” Becky continues, “the staff found out in waves. Julia was told to be on campus two weeks ago for an official meeting of the athletic department. She said she knew right away that calling her in before the school year even started meant something was up, and she wasn’t wrong. Once she and the other team coaches had the info, they were sworn to secrecy. Some of what I know didn’t get covered in the email, but since shes my cousin, I leaned on her until she gave up what she could.”
Becky’s eyes sparkle with excitement as she shifts in her seat, her hands sliding over the bright orange surface of her desk. “The bottom line is that we only know about it now because they’ve canceled all practices today for a mandatory meeting where the dean will be reading the entire athletic department the riot act. Anyone involved in sports here at the college has to attend. They’re going to lay the law down about personal relationships with the coaching staff.”
I flip my hair over my shoulder as I roll my eyes. “Michael Simmons may have dabbled in some ancient ass but come on,” I say dismissively. “Not one of the rest of us is even a little bit attracted to any of the coaching staff. They're all old. The college has absolutely nothing to worry about.”
Becky nods in agreement. “I know,” she whispers dramatically. “Like any of us care about geezers who blow up balls all day.”
I haven't held on to my virginity to lose it to a random coach—not that I’m saying being a virgin right now makes me smart. In fact, quite the opposite. I’ve held onto it because I’m an idiot who has spent far too many years focused on one person—the very one who wants no part of my virginity. I’ve done my best to like other people, including guys here at college that I tried dating but that quickly went nowhere. All of the binge-drinking around campus (and closet steroid use with the athletes) isn't attractive to me at all. Don’t even get me started on how many of them don't know how to do laundry. There’s a smell in the boy’s dorms and apartments that is stomach turning, so staying away from them hasn’t been a problem.
Meanwhile, whenever my friends talk about my virginal state, I lie and tell them that I'm holding out for a business type. It’s a lie. I have—um, had, dammit! Why does my brain not understand that it’s time to use past tense when thinking of him— a major crush on a man who is the epitome of the athletic type, and no one else has ever measured up to him in my eyes. Not even close. After the events that went down two months ago, I’ve decided I need to move on. The harsh insinuation that I’m too young to know what I want was a tough pill to swallow—one that’s still giving me indigestion.
