Page 172 of Something Rad
“These sounds,” Robbie groans. “You’re killing me, Cooper.”
My head falls forward again and I look at Robbie. I’m not even aware of what sounds I’m making. I just know I need more of him. My hands move up his chest and around to the back of his neck. Everything in me wants to wrap my fingers in his ridiculously perfect hair.God, I love his stupid hair. But I stop myself, knowing he doesn’t like that. Knowing nowwhyhe doesn’t like that, I settle on the nape of his neck.
Robbie’s brows pull together just slightly. “Cooper, are you okay–”
He doesn’t get to finish his question before I’m yanking him to me, crashing his lips into mine. He lets out a hum of satisfaction against my mouth, and, I must confess, it brings me an immense amount of pride to know I’m making him feel as good as he’s making me feel.
I don’t know what’s come over me. I try not to think about it too hard. I also try not to simply think about the reality of the situation I’m currently in. About the fact that I–Sara Cooper– am making out withRobbie Summers. That I’m letting him practically dry hump me on the side of the road up against his Camaro.
I also try with everything in me not to think about how much I like it. How I want even more.
If I could go back in time and tell the girl he dumped Jolt Cola all over on the first day of school what she’d be in for this year…
A smile involuntarily comes to my lips against Robbie’s, and he takes it as a cue to deepen the kiss. His head tilts, and the moment his tongue brushes mine, I feel his fingers dig into my hips. He slowly slides one hand up, grabbing another handful of my hair and tugging my head to the side to keep me right where he wants me. My body doesn’t know where to focus its attention, feeling overstimulated everywhere. From the pull of my hair in my scalp, to my bruised and busy lips, to my suddenly tight and heavy breasts, to the blissfully aching place down below – it’s all too much, but also…not nearly enough.
I pull away suddenly. “Robbie, put me down,” I pant.
Though his eyes are hazy and full of confusion when he opens them, Robbie responds immediately, gently setting me down.
“Please step back,” I whisper, placing a hand on his chest and giving him a gentle shove.
Concern etches between his brows as he takes a large step back.
“Cooper,” Robbie shakes his head, “I’m so sorry.” I don’t break his eye contact as I reach behind me. “It was too much–”
“I need more,” I say, cutting him off. Then, without ever looking away from Robbie, I open the back door of his Camaro and settle down onto the backseat, pushing backwards until I’m fully stretched across it on my back, propped up on my elbows. “You said something about a backseat?”
Robbie’s jaw unhinges itself as he stares back at me, his worried facial expression slowly melting into a grin.
“What are you still doing out there?” I ask him.
Robbie shakes his head at me, his tongue pushing into his cheek. “Don’t have to tell me twice,” he drawls before crawling in after me, closing the door behind him.
With the doors closed, the music is suddenly deafeningly loud. Both Robbie and I make a show of covering our ears and end up chuckling at the ridiculousness of it before he sits back on his knees and leans over the front seat to turn the radio down to a reasonable volume. The final seconds ofPurple Rainfade out just as he settles over top of me. I can feel my heart thudding against my chest when he reaches up, pushing my hair out of my face. The next song begins, and I immediately recognize it asWaiting for a Girl Like Youby Foreigner. It appears Robbie does too, his hand freezing in its movement. I catch the way his face twists up in the moonlight streaming through the car windows and tilt my head at him.
“Do you want to change the station?” I ask him, remember how he didn't seem to like this song before when it came on in his car after the Back to School Dance.
Robbie’s eyes appear to refocus, staring directly into mine. “No,” he says, shaking his head, a soft grin spreading across his face. “Absolutely not.”
He swipes his tongue once over his bottom lip before leaning down and kissing me. It’s so gentle, like he’s trying to whisper a secret to me with the featherlight touch of his lips against mine and the brush of his hand across my cheek.
By the time Robbie pulls back, I feel like putty in his hands, warm, soft, and pliable. “You know,” I say, “your eyes look like something too.”
“Yeah?” Robbie questions, brushing his lips against the hollow behind my ear. “What’s that?”
I let out a hum of satisfaction. “Chocolate,” I breathe. “Sometimes milk, sometimes dark.”
Robbie pulls back to look at me, amusement flickering across his face. “Well, aren’t you cute, Cooper?”
“Shut up,” I chuckle.
“Been daydreaming about my chocolate eyes?” Robbie teases.
I shake my head. “Never.”
Robbie twirls a strand of my hair between his fingers. “Wanna dive inside them like that kid dove into the chocolate river in Willy Wonka?”
“Augustus Gloop?” I rear back, feigning offense. “Do I remind you of him?”
