Page 3 of The Weight of Your Wishes

“Me? I would never.” Even as the words leave my lips, I can’t help the dubious smile that curves them. It’s not my fault if anyone wants more from me.

He rolls his eyes and curls his hand around my chin, gripping it softly. I let my mouth fall open and stick my tongue out, inviting him to play. His blue eyes flicker as he leans forward and drags his tongue over mine. They swirl around each other in the small space between our opened mouths, out in the open where anyone could see if they wanted to. I buck up against him and grip his hips, using them to grind him down against me. Blood thrums through my veins, giving me that extra jolt of energy I need.

I trail my palm up his arched spine until I reach his nape and tug at the hairs there to get his attention. He peers at me through his lashes, his face flushed. “Where do you want to take this, cutie? My car? Yours?”

He hums in thought, working his lush lower lip between his teeth. “My back seat’s packed full for the trip home tomorrow.”

“Look at you all prepared,” I joke. “My car it is. I haven’t even begun packing.”

He rolls his eyes and shoves at my chest playfully. “Of course not. Why would you ever do something like that?” He stands up a bit shakily, and I follow, resting my arm around his shoulders. I keep my eyes glued to the door, paying no attention to the people around us.

Warm, muggy air greets us on the way out, and he glances up at me with a gaze far too assessing for a drunken fling. “What?” I ask.

He turns thoughtful. “It’s just that… you have this sort of bad boy, carefree reputation. You don’t even show up for classes half the time, and when you do, you usually sleep through them. There are always wild stories circulating the rumor mill about you, but whenever we’re one on one, you’re so far from that. Like a sweet, slightly depressed teddy bear.”

I snort out a laugh. “Bad choices don’t make a bad person. Did you want me to be more of an asshole? I could do that. It’s kind of hot, honestly.”

“See, that right there!” He giggles. “Bad boys usually aren’t self-aware enough to know they’re fucking up.”

He has a good point, but I don’t say so. We approach my beat-up old car, and I open the back door for him. It’s not the first time he’s been back there, so I don’t bother with the self-deprecating jokes about it. Pulling out my keys, I jam them in the ignition and get the A/C flowing so we don’t suffocate in the Florida heat. “You never answered me about the asshole thing. Could make for some decent foreplay,” I tease.

He rolls his eyes, and his dimple pops out when he smiles. “Shut up, X. I like the sweet stuff. Hookups don’t need to be so impersonal.”

“My thoughts exactly. Now show me some ass, cutie. What color thong are you wearing?”

His lashes flutter. “I don’t always wear thongs, you know.”

“Me either,” I shrug. “I own a few but haven’t worn them out.”

“Shit, I don’t know why that’s so surprising to me, but of course, you can pull off leather jackets and combat bootsandthongs.” He situates himself on his knees to get his skin-tight jeans pulled down, and then I see it—a pink string trailing between his soft, round ass cheeks. I groan and begin palming them before he can work his stubborn pants all the way down. “God damn, Sammy.”

“Cute right?” He asks, glancing over his shoulder at me.

The tight space in my back seat is tricky, but I lean right in and ghost my breath against the pale skin. “Super cute.” Hooking my thumb around the thin string, I pull it to the side, wishing it wasn’t so dark in here so I could see every detail. He wiggles his butt side to side, making a needy little noise.

I dive right in, trailing my flat tongue over the silky smooth skin of his crack. “Shit,” he hisses. I moan and circle around his entrance, taking my time. Whatever lotion he used before coming out tonight mixed with his natural musk is intoxicating. I take my time eating away at his hole with my tongue and lips and a little bit of teeth. Before long, he’s a panting mess, rutting back against me urgently.

I thrust my tongue into him now that he’s softened up and smooth my palm around to his front. Just as I suspected, the tiny scrap of fabric does nothing to conceal his boner. It juts out of the waistband proudly, begging to be touched. I drag my fingertip from the fabric-covered base, trailing upward until it meets the hot flesh of his glans. His quick hiss of breath fuels me forward. I swirl the pad of my finger around his leaking slit, loving the way he trembles. Goosebumps ripple across his flushed skin, and he groans. “Come on, Hendrix. More.”

I jolt away from him as a hard smack bangs against my driver-side window. “Open the car! Hurry up! Cops are coming!” Marina yells hurriedly. My heart thuds into my stomach.Fuck.

Sammy scrambles to pull his jeans back up and throws the door open, nearly falling out of it. “See you in a couple of months, I guess.” He flashes me a quick smile before jogging away. I give him a tight smile and clamber into the front seat just as Marina slides in next to me.

“Go on then—drive,” she urges me. I turn the key that’s already in the ignition. My shitty car roars to life on the first try for once, and we’re off.

“Jesus, Marina.” Blood thunders in my ears as I try to focus on the dark street.

She rolls down the window, lights a cigarette, and hands it to me before lighting her own. “What a rush. Look,” she points in the rearview mirror as we approach the stop sign. I flick my eyes up and see the tell-tale red and blue flashing lights of cop cars. Fixing my eyes back on the road, I look both ways before continuing on. There’s no way I should be driving right now. Trying to calm my frayed nerves, I take a deep drag from the cigarette.

“Can’t believe our last party was cut so short,” she complains, eyes glued to her phone, already looking for another party we can go to.

“Where are we headed?”

She sighs, dragging a palm down her face. “I don’t know. This is so much work.” I nod and figure we can just aimlessly drive for a while until we get back to town. Wind billows through the windows causing Marina’s thick, curly hair to whip back and forth, grazing my cheek occasionally. Her phone automatically syncs to my radio since we ride together so often, so she puts on some Alice in Chains. Our taste in music is the exact same.

We belt the lyrics out, screaming into the night. During times like these, it feels like I’m floating on air. The big smile pasted on her face is a replica of the one on my own; we’re two halves of the same whole. I exhale a breath of relief—relief that I have my person, my one best friend whom I can be free with. She knows me inside and out, and I have no reason to hide anything from her.

She glances down at her phone again. “Oh!” she exclaims, and I turn my head to give her my attention without thinking. My grip loosens on the steering wheel, and it slides through my hand quickly as the car veers right. My heart climbs into my throat, and Marina’s loud gasp assaults my ears. Everything’s happening too fast, I don’t know what to do. I throw my arm out against her chest and squeeze my eyes shut. A million thoughts race through my brain.Is she wearing her seatbelt? Are we going to survive this? Will she survive this? She has to. I’ll never forgive myself.

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