Then You Saw Me by Carrie Aarons
19
Austin
There are parties at the Prospect Street house almost every night of the weekend.
I’m just not at them. After the time capsule letter and the subsequent follow-ups with Taya, I thought it would be good to give us our own territories while trying to have fun. And since I didn’t feel like staying at the house and watching her flirt with guys because that made my blood boil, I did what every other twenty-one-year-old at Talcott does.
Go to the bars.
There are three main bars in the Commons that college students frequent, but the night always ends at Stars Bar, where there’s a large dance floor and stage most of the girls drunkenly climb on by the end of the night. I’ve spent the last two weekends at Stars, because I couldn’t go home until I was sure most everyone was asleep.
Especially Taya. It’s easy enough to avoid her during the week, since we seem to be sticking to our opposite corners, aka our rooms. But when the roommates throw parties every other Friday and Saturday night, it’s inevitable I might run into her on the way up to the attic.
But tonight, I’m drunk and feeling sorry for myself. The past two weeks have sucked. Even though the thing between Taya and me was just blossoming, I miss talking to her. She has a great sense of humor, and our conversations were always something I looked forward to. She’s also sexy as hell, and it’s damn difficult to keep myself from staring at her when I catch her in the kitchen in her pajamas.
I don’t feel like being at Stars; every obnoxious drunk person, loudmouth girl, and overly cocky guy is pissing me off. The music choices are terrible, and the whiskey is hitting me in the wrong way. Instead of a happy buzz, I’m in that sullen, wasted mood that only leads to a fist in the face if someone touches me the wrong way.
Waving to Brian and the guys, I walk out of the bar alone. Six Prospect Street is in sight, so it’s not like I’m in danger. My sublet house is just a few yards from the Commons, which I guess is good on a night like this.
The music filters out onto the street from five houses away, and I know I’m about to walk into a huge rager in the house. I make it to the lawn, and there is already one kid throwing up out here and a couple half-naked humping each other in plain sight. Ah, college, the definition of class and propriety.
Our front door is fully open, inviting anyone in, and there are people everywhere. Maybe I’m just surly and drunk, or maybe this party is bigger than the others I’ve attended here, but it seems like I can’t breathe or move a square inch with how many people are packed in here.
When I finally make it to the stairs, I find Bevan straddling Callum’s lap on the midway landing. They’re making out and dry-humping like there aren’t three hundred people in our house, and I assume they’re back on rather than screaming bloody murder at each other.
My mood dampens when I make it to the second floor and realize I never saw Taya. Is she with someone? Has she already gone up to her room with another guy? My attitude turns even more sour.
I’m about to head up to the attic when a door in the hallway opens, and as if put there by fate, out comes Taya.
Fucking hell. She’s wearing a scrap of a dress, almost the same color as her skin and smooth silk. She looks naked, and I’m instantly hard as a steel pipe.
Her eyes collide with mine, and she looks like she’s about to turn on her heel and retreat to whatever room is open and unoccupied.
But I’m quicker. Something in me snaps, and I can’t stand this anymore. While I’m still freaked about what I read in there, I can’t stay away from her. And the way she’s been avoiding me, not talking to me, suddenly pisses me off.
My breaking point is reached, probably by the help of the two four-finger pours of whiskey I had at the bar, and I’m on her in a second.
“You going to run away from me every time you see me now?”
“Austin.” Her voice is a snide remark and a warning.
“I said, are you going to bolt each time I walk into a room now? I’m fucking tired of you avoiding me.”
“And here I thought you would rather me stay away from you. Aren’t I just so alarming?” She throws my words back at me.
We’re both drunk and irrational and spewing whatever animosity has been trapped inside.
I walk toward her, and she backs up until her back hits the wall. My hand comes to her throat, gently holding her there, and I feel the gasp work its way up the column of her neck. Her pretty hazel eyes dilate, and my hold on her neck tightens a fraction as I press my nose to her cheek and run it up and down that bone I love to make blush.
“Am I setting off your alarms now? Do you want me to, what did you say on the quad the other day? Go now?” I’m being an asshole, but the combination of my mood and her downright rejection of me the last few weeks have me in a tailspin.
Taya is right. She was a fourteen-year-old with a daydream and a crush and wrote some silly diatribe to a boy she didn’t even know. I’m punishing her for my own fears and doubts about how people view me or how they’ve always treated me in my hometown. This drop-dead gorgeous woman standing in front of me is self-aware, sure of herself, and so fucking sexy in her confidence and demeanor that I’m not sure what the fuck has been wrong with me this whole time.
Holding her to what she wrote would be like holding me to the epic crush I had on Vanessa Hudgens as a kid. I plastered her posters all over my room and watched her scenes of High School Musical more times than I can count. Would I be embarrassed to ever meet her in person and have her find out that I cut out pictures of her and put them on my dresser, thinking about what we’d look like as boyfriend and girlfriend? Hell, yes. And I’d also be humiliated if she ever called me out for it.
It’s at this moment that I realize I’ve invaded Taya’s privacy on such a deep level. Then I took it and twisted it into something wrong, something shameful.
Fuck, I’m the asshole in this situation. Thanks for pointing it out, Vanessa Hudgens.
“Are you going to kiss me, or chicken out again? Because so far, your bark is worse than your—”
I swallow her words, pressing my mouth to hers so ferociously that it takes her a minute to catch up. My tongue invades her mouth, our teeth and lips colliding. Every pent-up smidge of desire I’ve held at bay crashes out of my body and into hers. Taya is giving as good as she gets, her hand cupping me over my jeans and stroking my cock. Thrusting my hips forward, I can’t wait any longer.
Hauling her up with a growl, those long legs wrap around my waist, and this time, it’ll take a fucking crowbar to separate us. I’m not stopping anything, and I’ll show her just how satisfying my bite is.
“Austin.” She grinds her center into me with each step I take up the stairs to the attic.
I want her in my zone, on the top floor, where no one can interrupt us. The party rages below us, the beat of the music filtering up to the third floor, but we’re alone in the dark, and I’ve never been more ready.
I set her down, our bodies still molded together, as we grind and kiss and feel everywhere. Our hands are moving at hyper-speed, trying to touch each inch while being distracted by the next.
The roughness of the fabric has to be creating a maddening friction against her clit, because she’s clawing at me as I back her up into the room.
“Austin!” she yelps when I push her panties to the side and push a thick finger inside her.
This is going to be loud; we’re going to be loud. The music downstairs will drown us out, but I don’t give a fuck. Even if this house were completely silent and full of people, I wouldn’t hold back. I want all of Taya’s fury and fire.
And goddamn, do I love it when she says my name. “Keep saying my name, beautiful.”
My lips spark a trail of fire down her neck, pushing at the thin material of her dress as she wiggles against me and the finger inside her. One second we’re standing, and the next, we’re in free fall as Taya pulls me with her as she lands with a thump on the bed.
“It only has to be once. I have to know,” she whispers, almost to herself.
As if this will ever just be a one-time thing. I’m not even inside her, and I know I’ll never get enough.
“Then take your fucking clothes off.” My temper spikes because she’s dead wrong if she thinks we won’t do this again.
Hazel orbs flare with desire when I curse, and when Taya just lies there and pants, I reach under her and pull what she’s wearing clear over her head. The only thing left is a lace thong, the one I just pushed away to finger her, and I can smell how soaking wet she is. She kicks her heels somewhere into the depths of the attic, and I pull the panties down her hips.
In seconds, I’m crawling down her body and then my tongue is inside her folds, lapping at the sweet wetness glistening on her skin.
“Fuck!” she cries out when I push a finger inside at the same time I suck on her clit.
Her hips buck off the bed, and this might be my new favorite drink. Fuck liquor or beer, I’m going to get drunk off Taya.
Delicate but demanding fingers are pulling at my shirt until it’s up around my chin, my head in her pussy obstructing the material from pulling free of my body. I lift so Taya can pull it all the way off, and she takes advantage of the position by undoing my belt buckle. Just the sound of that makes my dick twitch with immense anticipation.
“I want you. Now.”
She doesn’t have to tell me twice. In a flash, I’m naked and reaching to my bedside drawer for a condom. My dick is so hard that the minute it meets the air, I’m hissing. Taya takes it in her hand as I rip open the condom with my teeth, rubbing her thumb over the pre-cum leaking out of my head.
I nearly swallow my tongue when she touches me, and I’m about to blackout as I roll the protection on and position myself.
When I push in, we both groan so loudly it must wake the gods. I don’t know how long it’s been for her, but it’s been too long for me. Too long and too much waiting when it comes to this woman. The sense of relief is just as heightened as the sense of pleasure.
This is why I wait. This is why I assess and don’t just fuck every random girl. This is why my friends think I’m a prude who can’t get down with a little kink.
Because when I finally connect with someone and it gets physical, the chemistry is out of this world. As I skate my teeth over Taya’s bare skin, I feel like the entire world could implode, and the two of us would still be here. We’re going to fuck each other’s brains out, and it’ll be the hottest thing anyone could ever experience. This is better than twins giving blow jobs or threesomes with nameless faces.
There is nothing better than Taya under me right now, clawing at my back as I press her knee back into the mattress. There is nothing better than the look on her face when I thrust deep, making her eyes roll back. There is nothing better than the sounds she’s making or the way her teeth have sunk into my shoulder.
And there is definitely nothing better than pounding into her with wild abandon before feeling her pussy spasm and the guttural moan leave her throat as she orgasms.
I swear to all that is holy, I could die a happy man right here, right now.
I’m a predatory animal, drawn to the smell, sight, and sound of her as she gyrates her hips up into me and milks that orgasm for every last drop. I’m so enthralled that I don’t even realize I’m about to come until white spots dot my vision and my whole body seizes in rigors of lust and pleasure. The growl I let out surely just shook the whole attic, and I bury myself in all of her chocolate brown waves as I spill into the condom.
Catching my breath is hard as I come to my senses, Taya still wrapped around me. I roll to my side, careful not to put my weight on her, and pull her against my chest. We don’t speak, the intense reality of what just happened floating all around us.
I want to do it again. Immediately.
But Taya pushes off and rolls away.
“Where do you think you’re going?” I ask, some of the venom from my mood tonight still trapped in my chest.
“It was just once.” Her voice is small and quiet.
My fingers circle her wrist and pull her back down until I can climb over her and I’m positioned between her legs again. My cock is already getting hard, the head pressing on the inner part of her thigh.
“If you think that, you’re truly insane.”
“Or maybe you are, for bringing me up here.”
She’s always challenging me, and I kind of love it. “Let’s find out whose crazy then.”