"This is the s.e.xiest thing I've ever seen."

It's Chance's voice.

My body is frozen. I slap the s.p.a.cebar key to pause the video, and in the reflection on the monitor I see him standing in my open doorway.

Why, oh why didn't I close the door? Because n.o.body is home! Oh, I can't believe this is happening to me.

I pull my skirt down, put my legs down, and press my knees together. I swivel the chair around, even though I don't want to. I turn to face him, knowing I can't hide from this, knowing I can't just vanish into thin air.

My cheeks are burning. I know he's going to have that stupid and annoying smirk on his face. I know he's going to have some smarta.s.s thing to say.

But what else can I do? It's not like I can just pretend he's not there. It's silly to think that maybe if I sit still for long enough, don't turn around for long enough, he'll just disappear.

"What are you doing in my house, Chance?" I ask as I turn, finally meeting his eyes. I try to imbue my glare with stony indifference, like I don't care that he just caught me touching myself to p.o.r.n.

That's when I notice that he's not really smiling. No, he's got another look on his face... something hungry, something I saw at the beach.

"I saw your door was open as I was driving past. I came to check on you, since I know you're alone these days."

It must have been Jess who left the front door open. G.o.d, so this is all her fault!

"I'm fine," I say, looking anywhere but his eyes. My ears are now on fire in addition to my cheeks, and I'm trying to get angry at him, trying to find some way to displace my embarra.s.sment into some less awkward emotion, but I find that I can't.

A silence falls between us, and that's when I notice that he has a hard-on. I can see the outline of his c.o.c.k through his jeans.

I look up at his eyes, feel this insane urge to just rush over and kiss him, and as I s.h.i.+ft in my seat, he shakes his head.

"Don't get up."

I blink. "I, uh-"

"Keep going."

I bunch my brow and shake my head. "What?"

He nods at the computer monitor. "Keep going. I want to watch you."

A storm rages in my mind. Half of me for some crazy reason wants to do it, wants to let him watch me. It makes me feel s.e.xy that he wants to, makes me feel desired... even a little naughty.

The other half of my mind is horrified at the thought of... performing for him.

My heart is thumping in my chest. I can hear it like the hooves of a racehorse. Blood is roaring in my ears. It's like there is a hurricane around me.

I'm breathing quickly, but I realize that my ears aren't burning any more.

I realize that, for some stupid reason, this is what I want. He keeps calling me little-miss-smart but I'm anything but if I want this. I know it's stupid because he's bad for me, because sooner or later, I'm going to get hurt.

Either he'll hurt me, disappoint me, or I'll leave to England, and never see him again.

But, oh G.o.d I so want what's bad for me. Chance is bad for me. There is no possible way in this universe that he can ever be good for me.

It's idiotic.

I want him because he drives me crazy. I don't want him to leave my room. I want him to watch me.

And I want to watch him.

"Only if you do," I say. My voice is barely a whisper. I'm putting myself out there. I'm walking the plank. I'm stepping onto that tightrope with no harness or safety net.

"Okay," he says, without hesitation. "But I want to see your body."

"I want to see yours," I counter. It's the truth. It was always the truth.

We stare at each other, a pregnant pause, and then he's pulling his t-s.h.i.+rt off his amazing body, and I watch as his carved, lean lines come into view.

He nods at me, fire in his eyes, and I pull my tank top up over me, and unhook my bra. It's the first time I've ever been naked in front of a boy, but somehow I don't feel the sting of modesty.

He's working at his belt buckle next, and when he steps out of his jeans, I see the shape of his manhood pressing through his tight boxer-briefs.

"Your turn," he says, and so I unb.u.t.ton and unzip my pleated skirt, and pull it down over my legs. I'm still sitting in the chair, and he's standing up in the doorway.

The words leave my mouth, but it's like it's not me that's speaking them: "Come closer."

Naked but for his underwear, he steps toward me. I watch as his whip-cord tight body ripples, as I can see each muscle flex and relax as he walks. His tattoos give his whole right side of his body a darkened edge, and they're s.e.xy looking, accentuating his figure.

I nod at his underwear, and he removes it, pulling it down. His c.o.c.k springs out from a tuft of trimmed pubic hair, thick, dripping pre-c.u.m.

He's pretty d.a.m.n big. Definitely bigger than the guy I was just watching in the video.

I pull my own underwear off, and just as I'm about to drop it to the floor he sticks out his hand.

"Give it to me."

I look at him with horror. He wants my underwear?

But then my gaze trails down his body. The sight of him naked makes something rumble deep inside me, and my eyes settle on his hard c.o.c.k.

I hand him my underwear a so glad I wasn't wearing a ratty old pair, or, heaven forbid, granny panties a and watch as he presses them against his nose and inhales my scent.

"You smell amazing," he groans, and he brings his other hand down to wrap around his c.o.c.k, and he starts pumping himself.

I just sit there, staring, watching him while he jerks himself off, watching as his stomach muscles crunch, as his arms flex, as he works himself while he smells me.

So I start to touch myself, too. I turn to face him fully, and I don't bother with the video. We won't need it.

I'm turned on like I've never been before. He's putting on a show for me, and I am determined to put one on for him as well.

I lift my feet up onto the chair, spread my knees, and begin to rub my c.l.i.t. He watches me out of hungry eyes, and I watch him out of hungry eyes.

His c.o.c.k looks really nice. I don't know how else to describe it; it's just a nice looking c.o.c.k. He steps closer to me, close enough that I'm sure he can smell me, smell my arousal, see just how swollen I am.

I'm moaning softly as I touch myself, as I feel that spring coiling, that ball of energy inside me expanding. It's in my belly, growing outward, and I know it's not going to take me long.

"Yeah," he says, staring at my s.e.x. It's like he can't get enough of it. It makes me feel a thump of excitement in my chest. It makes me feel desired. It makes me feel s.e.xy.

I push two fingers inside me, and they slide in easily. I'm rubbing my front wall but it just doesn't feel as good as when he does it.

He's still enthralled with the sight of me touching myself. I feel like I'm the only girl in the world that has this kind of attention from him.

Me... the nerdy girl. Me, the unpopular girl who never hiked her skirt up, who never wore makeup to school.

He wants me!

And then we meet eyes, and like that, the tension snaps. He drops my underwear, I stand up, and he pulls me tight against his body, crushes his lips against mine, and we're kissing like there's no tomorrow, mas.h.i.+ng mouths and banging teeth and twirling tongues and sharing saliva.

I'm moaning and panting onto his face, and he's devouring my body with his hands, groping every inch of flesh I have, pulling at my nipples, rubbing the insides of my thighs, cupping my s.e.x...

I moan as he pulls a finger up through my folds, shudder as he touches my c.l.i.t. His fingers settle just above it, and he begins to rub me in circles like he did at the beach.

I squirm in his arms, turn around and put my hands behind me so I can grasp onto his manhood. He's so thick, so hard, I feel like I'm holding onto the handle of a hockey stick.

I begin to pump him behind my back, and I can feel his c.o.c.k rubbing against me. He fingers me from behind me, and our skin is pressed so tightly together that the heat from his body radiates straight into me.

He's kissing the back of my neck where it meets my shoulder, making the hairs on my body stand up on end.

I'm squirming and writhing like I was at the beach. I can't believe we're doing this again! I can't believe I'm giving myself to him like this, again!

But he makes me feel desired, makes me feel attractive. I can tell just from the aura around his body that he wants me bad... it's almost like he needs me.

And it's so hot... and it's making me so hot.

"Oooh," I moan as he rubs me, as he caresses me, as he makes me feel good. He's creeping me closer and closer to the precipice, and I clamp my eyes shut and I lose focus on pumping him.

"Come on," he says in my ear, and he guides me to the bed. He swipes my suitcase off it, and I watch as it turns upside down, spilling all my folded clothes, but I don't care.

I lie on the bed, looking at him, feeling l.u.s.tier than I ever have. He pulls open my knees, and he drops in between them, and I feel his hot breath on my s.e.x.

"G.o.d, you smell amazing," he groans, and I shut my eyes, waiting for the touch of his tongue on my s.e.x, thrilling in the fact that he is about to go down on me, about to eat me out. It'll be my first time ever, and somehow, I'm not nervous.

At first I think he's going to lick my c.l.i.t, but I feel his tongue on my outer lips, swabbing up one side and then down the other. It's a tease, and I half-groan, half a breath away from hurrying him up.

But then I feel the press of his tongue against my folds, and I moan as he pulls his tongue up, lapping up my nectar, before he rests on my bud and begins to lick slowly around it.

"Come on," I practically beg, and I run my fingers through his hair, grip onto it, and press his face down into me, mash myself into him.

He obliges. He starts to flick my c.l.i.t from left to right, and I'm just in heaven right now. I'm arching my back, gripping at his hair, and he's slowly speeding up, and I'm just utterly lost.

I feel his hand move to my entrance, and he slowly pushes a finger inside me and I groan loudly, grasping onto my b.r.e.a.s.t.s, pulling at my nipples as he angles his finger upward, as he rubs my front wall.

"Oh G.o.d," I say breathlessly, pus.h.i.+ng my hips up into his face rhythmically, almost like I'm f.u.c.king his face.

He wraps his lips around my pearl and he sucks on it while he licks it, and I push his head down harder against me.

The temperature in my core is rising; I feel like I'm coiling tighter and tighter, just waiting to be sprung.

He slides a second finger inside me, and now he's f.u.c.king me with his fingers, pressing upward with each of his hand's thrusts.

I'm stretched by his two fingers, and I feel an intense pleasure, overwhelming, and before I know it I'm cussing and swearing and I don't even know where it's coming form.

"Oh, f.u.c.k, yes, like that, like that," I hiss at him, gripping tightly at his hair, bunching it up in my fists.

I'm gyrating my hips against his face and he's working me so well, he knows exactly how to make me feel good. He's making me feel better than I've ever made myself feel before.

I raise my whole lower half off the bed, my whole body shaking and thrilling with pleasure.

He's driving me toward the edge, closer and closer, and I feel a twinge inside me as he laps at my c.l.i.t, as he penetrates me with his fingers over and over again.

The pressure is building. It's a tightness. I'm going to explode.

"f.u.c.k," I rumble, my voice now baritone, base. "Don't stop," I whisper.

"Yes... YES!" I cry as I crest. I'm soaring, in orbit.

Ecstasy grips me as I scream, as I crunch my stomach, I tighten my body. I'm rigid, frozen, a snapshot of pleasure.

He drives me through it, keeps it going, and I'm shaking and trembling, toes curled, as I'm dunked in a pool of bliss. My legs are so tight, my thighs so tense, and I'm gripping onto his hair so hard...

And then it's over. The pinnacle has pa.s.sed and I'm winding down, panting, replete, satisfied, blissful.

He eases me down, stops licking my c.l.i.t when I shudder and shake, too sensitive now. He slides his fingers out of me and plunges them into his mouth, sucking all of my c.u.m off his fingers.

I'm just lying on the bed. The backs of my hands are now against my forehead. I'm sweating, breathing hard, and I'm grinning. That felt really, really good.

That's when he gets up, and I see his c.o.c.k, rock-hard, jutting out from his crotch. I'm imbued with this confidence I've never felt before, and I sit up, push him back onto the bed, and I slide myself down his body, rubbing his c.o.c.k against first my belly, then up in between my b.r.e.a.s.t.s.

I can feel his pre-c.u.m leaving a hot, wet trail on my skin, and I find it so f.u.c.king s.e.xy.

He's just looking at me out of l.u.s.t-filled eyes, lips slightly parted. I can just see his teeth beneath them, and I lick my lips, finally down in between his legs.

I grip onto his c.o.c.k, absolutely love how hard he is for me, and I position it in front of my face.

There's this little thought in the back of my mind telling me that I've never given a b.l.o.w.j.o.b before, that I don't know how to do it.

"You're f.u.c.king s.e.xy when you're down there," he tells me, his lips pulling into a smirk. He puts his arms up behind his head, and looks hotter for it.

My eyes linger on his arms, travel down their undersides, down the side of his body. I wipe my eyes over the jagged edges of the tattoo he has on the right side of his abdomen, in this position making out what it is now.

It's an abstract image of a flying eagle, only, it's in the skin, not the ink. The tribal-like lines emphasize the blank s.p.a.ce. It's like a stencil. A reverse-tattoo.