The Deal by Elle Kennedy
“How can I get you there?” he says intently.
“I don’t know. Just keep touching me. Please.”
He does, and oh my God, he’s so good at it. As two fingers move inside me in a slow glide, I shut my eyes again, but it doesn’t matter. I can still feel him watching me.
Just like Aaron did when he took what I didn’t want to give.
I was fully conscious during the rape. Sometimes, when I’m depressed or wallowing in self-pity, I actually curse the drugs for not knocking me out. Date rape drugs are supposed to knock you out, damn it. I’m not supposed to remember what happened to me. I wish I didn’t remember.
But I do. The memories are hazier than normal memories, but the sight of Aaron’s wild eyes has been branded into my brain. I remember lying there on Melissa’s parents’ bed, feeling his heavy weight on top of me, feeling him thrusting inside me, hard and deep and painful. But it was like I was paralyzed. My arms and legs didn’t seem to work, no matter how badly I wanted to hit or kick him. My vocal cords froze so I couldn’t get a single scream out. All I could do was stare up at those smug brown eyes that were laced with pleasure and flashing with lust.
The vicious memories swarm my mind like a bee attack, stealing away the last traces of desire inside me. I know Garrett feels the change in my body, that I’m no longer warm and wet and pliant. That I’m stiffer than a board and colder than ice.
“This isn’t working,” he says hoarsely.
I sit up, fighting hard not to cry. “I know. I’m sorry. It’s just…you’re…you’re looking at me… and…”
He offers a crooked grin. “Would it help if I close my eyes?”
“No,” I say miserably. “Because I’ll know you’re still picturing me in your head.”
With a sigh, he slides up and rests his head on the bed frame. He’s still hard—I can see his erection straining beneath his track pants—but he seems oblivious to his own state of arousal as he slowly meets my eyes. “You don’t trust me.”
I’m quick to deny it. “I do trust you. I wouldn’t be here if I didn’t.”
“Fine, I’ll amend that. You don’t trust me enough to fully let go.”
My teeth sink into my bottom lip. I want to tell him he’s wrong, but a part of me doesn’t think he is.
“Sex is all about trust,” he says. “Even if you don’t love the other person, even if it’s just a hookup, it still takes a serious amount of trust to open yourself up and let yourself go to that vulnerable place, you know? And there’s nothing more vulnerable than coming.” His mouth lifts in a dry smile. “At least that’s what my Google search taught me.”
“You researched this?” I yell.
Embarrassment reddens his cheeks. “I had to. I’ve never slept with anyone who’s been…you know…”
“I know.” I bite my lip even harder to stop myself from bursting into tears.
“After what happened to you, it’s not surprising that you’re scared to let yourself be vulnerable.” He hesitates. “Were you a virgin?”
I press my lips together and nod.
“Yeah, I thought so.” Garrett goes quiet for another beat. “I have an idea, if you’re willing to hear it.”
I can’t talk because I’m too close to the I’m-gonna-bawl-my-eyes-out brink, so I settle for another nod.
“Instead of me giving you an orgasm, why don’t you try to give one to yourself?”
I thought I’d maxed out my embarrassment credit card tonight, but clearly there’s humiliation left to spare. “I do it all the time.” My cheeks are flaming as I avoid his eyes.
“In front of me,” he corrects. “Make yourself come in front of me.” He pauses. “And I’ll make myself come in front of you.”
Oh my God.
I can’t believe we’re even having this discussion. That he’s suggesting we pleasure ourselves in front of each other.
“Please excuse me while I go hang myself,” I mutter. “Because I am so mortified right now.”
“You shouldn’t be.” His gray eyes harden with intensity. “It’ll be an exercise in trust. Seriously, I think it will be good. We’ll both be making ourselves vulnerable, and you’ll see that there’s nothing to be afraid of.”
Before I can respond, he hops off the bed and peels his shirt over his head. Then, without missing a beat, he yanks his pants off his hips.
My breath lodges in my lungs. I had been touching his erection before, but I hadn’t actually seen it. And now I am seeing it, and he’s long and hard and perfect. My body tingles at the sight of his naked body, and when my gaze slides up to meet his eyes, I glimpse nothing but healthy desire and sweet encouragement in those silvery gray depths. No dirty lust, no gleam of power, no savagery or malevolence.
He’s not Aaron. He’s Garrett, and he’s putting himself on display for me, showing me that it’s okay to let down your guard.
“Take off your shirt, Hannah. Let me see you.” He grins. “I promise not to leer too hard at your stripper tits.”
An unwitting smile springs to my lips. But I still don’t move.
“Show me what you do to yourself when you’re alone,” he coaxes.
“I…” The lump in my throat is too big to speak past.
His voice grows hoarse and seductive. “Show me, and I’ll show you.”
He wraps his fist around his cock, and a moan shudders out of my mouth.
I meet his gaze, and something about the certainty of his expression spurs me to action. My fingers shake uncontrollably as I reach for the bottom of my T-shirt and drag it over my head, leaving me in nothing but my bra.
Then I draw a deep breath and take the bra off, too.
25
Garrett
I’ve never jerked off in front of a girl before. I mean, I’ve given it a stroke or two before putting my cock in a more desirable place than my fist, but whacking it from start to finish? It’s a first for me. And I’m nervous.
But I’d be lying if I said I also wasn’t turned on something fierce.
I can’t believe that Hannah is lying naked on my bed. She’s fucking beautiful. Her body is soft and curvy in all the right places. Her breasts are absolute perfection, round and perky and tipped with reddish-brown nipples. My gaze lowers to the narrow strip of hair between her legs and I’m dying for her to part them. I want to see every inch of her.
But I don’t want to come off like a perv, and I don’t want to scare her off, so I keep my mouth shut. I’m hard as a rock, my cock throbbing in my fist as I try not to ogle the sexy naked girl on my bed.
“You’re not talking,” she accuses, her tone both teasing and nervous.
“I don’t want to scare you off,” I say hoarsely.
“Dude, you’re standing there naked in front of me with your dick in your hand. If that doesn’t scare me, I doubt anything you say will.”
Good point. And damned if my dick doesn’t tingle when she calls me dude. In fact, every word that comes out of her mouth gets me hot.
“Spread your legs,” I tell her. “I want to see you.”
She hesitates.
And then she does it, and my breath spirals out of my lungs. Fucking perfection. She’s pink and pretty and glistening and perfect.
I’m going to come way too fast. It’s a fact. But I do my damnedest to prolong the inevitable. I stroke myself in a painfully slow tempo, avoiding putting pressure on the tip of my cock, ignoring the sweet spot underneath it.
“Show me what you would do if I wasn’t here,” I murmur. “Show me how you’d touch yourself.”
Her cheeks turn the sweetest shade of pink. Her lips are parted, just slightly, but wide enough that if I pressed my mouth to hers, I could slide my tongue between the pouty seam and taste her. I want to kiss her so badly, but I resist the urge. This moment is too delicate to risk panicking her again.
Very slowly, Hannah brings her hand between her legs.
A shockwave of pleasure shudders through me. “That’s it, Wellsy. Touch yourself.”
One fingertip brushes her clit. She rubs it. Her touch is measured, exploratory, like she’s taking the time to find out what feels good.
I match her unhurried pace. My body craves release, but this is too important to blow. Literally blow, because I’m so fucking close I have to breathe through my nose and clench my ass cheeks to stop from exploding.
“Does that feel good?” My voice sounds low and strangled to my ears.
Hannah nods, her green eyes wide as saucers. A breathy noise slips out of her mouth, and I suddenly imagine that mouth wrapped around my dick, and I’m dangerously close to losing it. I snap into emergency jack-off mode, squeezing my shaft tight enough to bring a jolt of pain.
Hannah rubs herself even faster, her other hand skimming up her body to cup one firm breast. She toys with her nipple between her fingers and I bite back a growl. I want to suck on that puckered bud more than I want my next breath.
“What are you thinking about, Wellsy?” I voice the question not just for her sake, but mine. I need a distraction. ASAP.
Her gaze stays glued to the lazy movement of my hand. “I’m thinking about you.”
Oh hell. Not that kind of distraction.
My strokes get faster as my hand takes on a life of its own. There’s a naked woman on my bed and I can’t fuck her. I can’t, because tonight isn’t about me. It’s about Hannah.
“I’m thinking about how sexy you are,” she whispers. “I’m thinking about how much I want to kiss you again.”
I almost go to her and give her what she wants, but I’m terrified the spell will be broken if I do.
“What else?” I say thickly.
Her hand leaves her breast and travels over her flat belly, down the edge of her hips. God, she’s tiny. I could probably span the entire width of her waist with both my hands.
“I’m thinking about your fingers inside me.”
I’m thinking about the same damn thing, but I satisfy myself by watching her fingers. She pushes two of them into her pussy, while her other hand continues to tend to her clit. Her cheeks are even more flushed now. So are her breasts.
I realize she’s getting close, and the satisfaction that courses through me is like nothing I’ve ever experienced. I’m doing this to her. I’m not touching her, but my presence is turning her on.
I pump my cock, squeezing the head on every upstroke. “I’m close,” I warn her.
“Yeah?”
“So fucking close. I don’t think I can hold off for much longer.” Then I curse under my breath, because I can see the wetness coating her fingers every time she withdraws them. I’m dying here.
“Me too.” Her eyes have gone hazy with pleasure, and she’s rocking restlessly on my bed.
We’re both making noise. I’m groaning, she’s whimpering, sighing. The air is electric and my body is on fire.
“Oh…God…” She’s panting for air now.
“Watch me,” I mumble. “Watch what you’re doing to me.”
I stroke myself faster, and she cries out, “Garrett.”
She comes with my name on her lips, and I come to the sound of it. Pleasure hurtles through me, coating my hand and my abs. The force of my release nearly knocks me off my feet, and I wildly grab the side of my desk, holding on tight as pulsing waves roar through my body.
When I crash back to Earth, I find Hannah watching me. She looks dazed and fascinated, and her breasts heave as she sucks in oxygen.
“Oh my God.” Astonishment flashes across her face. “I can’t believe…”
I blink, and suddenly there’s a naked girl in my arms. She launches herself at me, unfazed by the wetness on my stomach, which now sticks to her skin.
She wraps her arms around my neck and buries her face in the center of my chest. “I came.”
I choke out a laugh. “I saw.”
“I came, and you were here, and…”
She peers up at me in awe. I always forget how short she is until we’re standing face to face and she has to crane her neck to meet my eyes.
“Let’s have sex,” she announces.
Damned if my cock doesn’t harden again. She feels it, her eyes widening as my heavy erection presses into her belly.
But clearly I’m a masochist, because I say, “No.”
No?
It’s official. I’ve gone insane.
“What do you mean, no?” she demands.
I hold my ground even in the face of her visible disappointment. “Tonight was a big step for you, but I think that’s how we need to handle it from now on. In steps.” I swallow, and force myself to add, “Baby steps.”
An odd glimmer crosses her eyes.
“What?” I say roughly.
“Nothing. That’s just what my therapist used to advise. Baby steps.”
She goes quiet for a long moment, and then the most brilliant smile fills her face and lights up the room. It’s the first time Hannah has smiled at me like that, a smile that truly reaches her eyes, and it makes my heart clench in the strangest way.
“You’re a pretty good guy, Garrett. You know that?”
A good guy? I wish. Fuck, if she could read my mind and see all the dirty images flashing inside it, if she knew all the wicked things I want to do to her, she’d probably recant that statement.
“I have my moments,” I answer with a shrug.
Her smile widens, and my chest cracks wide open.
I know in that moment that I’m in trouble.
I agreed to help her not just because I’m her friend, but because I’m a man. And when a woman asks you to have sex with her and give her an orgasm, you don’t think about it. You say hell yes.
Well, she got the orgasm. She did. And I know I’m going to get the sex. I will.
But right now, all I want is for this girl to smile at me again.
26
Hannah
“Stop right there!” a sharp voice booms as I hurry toward my bedroom. “Where do you think you’re going, young lady?”
I spin around, startled to find Allie lying on the couch in our common area, balancing one of her icky juice cups on her knee. In my haste, I hadn’t even noticed her.
“What are you doing home?” I ask in surprise. “I thought you have econ on Wednesdays.”
“It got cancelled because the prof has Ebola.”
I gasp. “Holy shit! Are you serious?”
She snickers. “Well, no. I mean, maybe. He sent out an email saying he’s come down with an illness—” she uses air quotes “—but he didn’t say what the illness was. I like to imagine it’s something bad, though. Because then he won’t be able to teach for the rest of the term and we’ll all get automatic A’s.”
“You are an evil person,” I inform her. “And one day that voodoo black magic of yours is going to come back to haunt you. Seriously, don’t come crawling to me when you get Ebola. Anyway, I have to go. I just popped in to drop off my stuff before I head to rehearsal.”
“No way, Han-Han. You’re going to sit your pretty butt down on this couch, because we need to have a little chat.”
“I really can’t be late for rehearsal.”
“How many times has Cass been late for rehearsal?” she challenges.
Good point.
With a sigh, I walk over to the couch and flop down. “Okay. What’s up? And make it snappy.”
“Fine, you want snappy? How’s this—what on God’s green planet is going on with you and Garrett?”
My mouth snaps closed. Crap. Busted. I mean, I had texted her last night saying “over at Garrett’s—be home late” but Allie lives in her own Sean-centered bubble for so much of the time that I’d been hoping she wouldn’t bring up the subject.
“Nothing’s going on,” I answer.
Ha, if by “nothing” I mean “I went over to his house and we both got naked and masturbated in front of each other and then I had an orgasm and he had an orgasm and it was the best feeling ever.”
Allie sees right through my feeble a
“No.”
She narrows her eyes. “Fine. I’m going to ask you twice. Are you dating—”
“I’m not dating him.” I sigh. “But we are fooling around.”
Her jaw falls open. A second ticks by, then another, and then her blue eyes light up in victory. “Ha! I knew you were into him! Oh my God! Hold my juice—I think I need to break out in a happy dance! Do you know how to do the running man? If so, can you teach me right now?”
I laugh. “Oh God, please don’t do a happy dance. And it’s not a big deal, okay? It’ll probably fizzle out soon.”
Yeah, when I go out with Justin.
And double crap—this is the first time since Dean’s birthday that Justin has even crossed my mind. I’ve been entirely focused on Garrett, on the way he turns me on, the things I want to do with him. But now that I’m reminded of my impending date, I experience a sharp tug of guilt.
Can I really go out with someone else after what Garrett and I did last night?
But… It’s not like I’m dating Garrett. He’s not my boyfriend, and there’s no way he considers me his girlfriend, so…why not?
Still, the urge to cancel on Justin refuses to go away, but I push it aside as Allie continues to gush about the awesomeness of this hookup.
“Did you sleep with him? Oh, please say yes! And please say that it was good! I know you and Devon didn’t have Brangelina-level chemistry in the sack, but from what I’ve heard, Garrett Graham has some serious moves.”
Yep. He certainly does.
“I didn’t sleep with him.”
She looks disappointed. “Why not?”
“Because…I don’t know, because it didn’t happen. We did other stuff.” My face burns hotter. “And that’s all I’m saying about the subject, okay?”
“Not okay. BFFs are supposed to tell each other everything. I mean, you know everything about my sex life. You know about the time Sean and I tried anal, and you know how big Sean’s dick is—”