Page 42 of Rival Summer

I hesitated for a moment, then let out a small laugh. My hand reached out, gently pulling her hands away from her face. "Chandler, you have no idea how cute it is that you're acting jealous right now."

She blinked, confusion mixing with the red tinge of embarrassment on her cheeks. "What?"

"Seriously," I continued, not being able to keep the smirk off my face. "In some weird way, I think it's hot because it means you like me enough to be jealous."

"Shut up," Chandler scoffed, her hazel eyes darting away from mine. "It's not hot." She fidgeted with the hem of her blanket, creating little ripples in the fabric. "And now it’s even more embarrassing that you know I've never... done that before."

"It’s not embarrassing," I said softly, catching her gaze and holding it.

Her expression faltered, vulnerability flickering across her features. "It isn’t?"

"No," I confirmed, brushing a strand of her hair behind her ear. "It would be so fucking hot to do something with you no one else has."

Her eyes flicked up to meet mine, surprise etched into every line of her beautiful face.

"What?" she asked, hopeful. "You think it'd be hot to do that… with me?" A blush crept over her cheeks, her question hanging between us like a delicate secret.

I couldn't help but smile at the innocence and earnestness in those bright hazel eyes. Leaning closer I whispered, "Chandler, I'd do anything you wanted me to. You just have to ask."

She glanced up at me through thick lashes, a hesitant smile playing on her lips. "How would someone ask for that? I wouldn’t even know..." she trailed off, fingers still fidgeting with the fabric.

"Just be honest with me," I said softly. "Tell me what you want."

She opened her mouth, then closed it, clearly uncertain. The look she gave me next was vulnerable, but I could see her trying to muster the courage to tell me what was going on in that head of hers.

"Okay," she whispered. "I guess I'm curious to try it.” Her words tumbled out in a rush of breath.

"You guess?” I asked. I paused, choosing my words carefully. “I'm not going to do anything with you if you aren't sure. It’s okay if you’re not ready. There's no reason to rush it."

She nodded slowly, absorbing my words but then her eyes sparked with determination, stopping me mid-breath. "Boston,I want to try it," she said decisively. She bit her lip, a small, nervous gesture of hers that drove me wild.

"Try what exactly?" I asked, even though I knew what she meant. I needed to hear her say it, clearly, without any lingering doubt.

She drew in a sharp breath, her hazel eyes fixed on mine. "I want you to..." her voice trailed off for just a second before she found her courage again. "...Go down on me."

A smile broke across my face, for the strength it took her to finally say it. "All you had to do was ask," I said softly. My thumb grazed her cheek, tracing the line of her jaw gently as I pulled her toward me.

"Are you sure?" I whispered against her lips, needing that final confirmation.

"Yes," Chandler breathed out. "I'm sure."

With a confident nod, I traced my thumb along her lower lip, reveling in her softness and warmth. I pressed my lips to hers, the kiss growing from tentative to hungry as we found a rhythm belonging to just us. She tasted so good, so sweet, like the cranberry drink she’d had earlier.

"Is your ankle alright?" I asked, gently laying her back on the bed.

She nodded then grasped the hem of my shirt and pulled it over my head, tossing it to the floor. Her glossy eyes roamed over my abs approvingly.

I leaned over her, pressing kisses on her neck, nibbling and sucking the sensitive skin. My lips pressed against her fluttering pulse, a delicate beat that urged me on. My mouth grazed her collarbone and she made a small sound of pleasure. I’d found a sensitive spot, and my own desire soared.

"Keep making those noises for me," I said, my breath hot against her throat. Her moans and sharp inhales would tell me everything I needed to know. The way her breath caught, a signto linger; her quiet moans would urge me on. And it wasn’t just about understanding what she liked and what she needed. Knowing her body’s language, the way she reacted to me without having to say it—it was about the connection between us. Both of us knew there was nothing else like it.

My fingers trailed over her silky pajama shirt, deftly undoing each tiny button with one hand. My lips followed as I worked my way down, savoring her soft skin against my mouth. When I reached her breasts, I grazed my thumb over one nipple. A soft gasp escaped her lips, and I responded, flicking my tongue over her peaks before drawing one into my mouth, then the other. Her flesh between my teeth was intoxicating. Her hands roamed my body, gripping my back, pulling me closer as she moaned softly.

"Do you want me to keep going?" I whispered, tracing a line of fire down her abdomen, stopping where her hips curved.

She moaned in response, a simple affirmative “mhm” that vibrated through me, fueling me.

With tantalizing slowness, I peeled her wickedly short bottoms away, revealing her panties, drenched. I groaned, I couldn't take it anymore. My mouth was watering at the sight of her, my thoughts racing with what it would feel like to slide myself deep inside her. Her eyes were still wide with desire and she sank her teeth into her bottom lip as she watched me shift myself between her legs.

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