Page 13 of Myself

She stops laughing and turns to look at me. “I don’t want you to love me; I just want you to fuck me,” she says bluntly.

I tighten my hand on the steering wheel as I think of how to respond to that. “Well, I just wanted you to know that I feel the same way,” I say honestly. I’ve had six long and agonizing months to think about her, and it had made me see that I do love her. That she is the one. I wouldn't ruin my friendship with Ryder for anything, but Becca is everything.

She doesn’t respond, and we drive the rest of the way in silence, but she might as well be screaming at me. The tightness in my jeans is a constant reminder of my thoughts. When I pull up to her parents’ house, I look over at her and see she’s staring at me. Her green eyes on mine, her pink lips parted, and her dark hair falls in waves over her shoulders. I reach out without thought and wrap a curl around my finger.

“Jaycent ...” she whispers, but I say nothing. There’s nothing to say really. My actions alone are telling her what my mouth can’t.

I want you just as much as you want me.

She leans over the center console; her eyes drop to my lips, and she licks hers. I know her intentions, but I can’t bring myself to refuse her. How do you turn down a dream come true? She presses her lips to mine, and that hand that was playing with a curl finds its way into her hair. She moans into my mouth, and I pull her to me. The taste of beer lingers on her tongue, and I instantly feel drunk on her. This time, I let her control the kiss.

Her hand lands on my hard cock, and I jump in surprise. “Becca.” I shove her away from me now, back to reality. I’m hard for her, and that fact makes me feel ashamed. I shouldn’t feel this way about my friend’s younger sister.

She doesn’t say anything; instead, she reaches down, grabs the hem of her shirt, and rips it up and over her head. “I want you, Jaycent,” she whispers.

Fuuuuccckkk! “You’ve been drinking,” I say in protest, but my eyes go to her perfectly round tits that hide behind her black bra.

“So,” she says, simply reaching behind her back. She undoes her bra and tosses it to the floor. Grabbing her breasts, she massages them.

This is a different side of Becca that I’ve never seen before. She’s always seemed so timid. Except back in the bathroom. She’s that girl who walks around with her head down to avoid attention, but I still notice her. I notice how she fights the tears when Conner tells her he’s going out without her. I notice the way she bites her bottom lip with she’s nervous. I notice that when she’s angry, she cleans her room. I know that Titanic is her favorite movie even though she cries every time it ends. I know everything about her, yet it still doesn’t seem to be enough.

“I was sober yesterday, and I wanted you then,” she states. “And the day before that. And the day before that ...”

My heart pounds in my chest at the way she touches herself as if she has practiced while thinking of me. “I’m too old for you,” I say as if I’m not interested. As if she is only a girl and I’m a man. But there’s nothing little girl about her.

She smiles a sexy “come and get me” smile. “I’m eighteen, Jaycent.” Then she releases her breasts. “Remember that birthday kiss you gave me?” she asks as she reaches out to grab my hand and place it over her right breast. “Do I feel too young for you?”

Before I can answer, she leans over the center console again; her hand goes to my jeans, and she unzips them. The sound slowly killing me while my hand rests on her breast. I’m afraid to move it. Afraid to breathe.

She leans in and places her lips to my ear, and I bite my cheek to keep from moaning as her hand pulls my aching cock free of my pants. “I want you to fuck me like you do in my dreams.”

“Fuck, baby.” Why does she have to speak that way? Use that word? “You dream about me?” I can’t help but ask.

“Every night,” she answers softly. Her breath hitting my ear as her hand slowly strokes me.

My head falls back against the headrest, and I groan. I close my eyes, trying to think of anything other than her dreaming of me. “This can’t ...” She silences me with her lips on mine. I keep my eyes closed, and I raise my hands to wrap around her hair, losing the battle. She wants me, and I want her. We both deserve to get what we want, and right now, that’s enough,

I pull away; she’s panting, and I ask. “How do I fuck you?” I need to know.

Her hand continues to stroke me slowly, and I pump my hips, needing her to pick up her pace. “Like you can’t get enough of me ...”

CHAPTER THREE

BECCA

––––––––

“I gotta go make some phone calls,” Jaycent announces as he stands from his seat on the couch.

He looks down at me as he passes by, and his eyes look me up and down before he’s out of my sight. I shift in my seat, feeling like his look alone undressed me. Like that night we had four years ago is still fresh in his mind. It is in mine. I may have been drunk, but it’s burned into my brain. I couldn’t forget it even if I tried.

I had practically jumped him, and I wasn’t going to take no for an answer. I wanted him. God, I had thought of him for so long. And finally, I had the chance to act on that.

I have wanted Jaycent for as far back as I can remember. He always took up for me. He was like my older brother. I know how sick that must sound, but he took care of me. He took me for ice cream. He made me pancakes on Sunday mornings when he would come over to hang out with Ryder. He is in every childhood memory that I have. But that night was our night. And I’ve never had a night that lived up to what we did in the back seat of his car. But like every high, there’s a low that follows.

I sit on my bed, softly rocking back and forth. My phone clenched in my hands. He’s on his way. What am I gonna say? What am I gonna do?

Tears fall down my face at the shame I feel. Embarrassment flooding me. How could I have been such a horrible person? How could I have lost control like I did?

---