More Than This (More Than, #1)(73)

Slutbag.


***


After a few more than a couple of beverages each, we head back to our room.

“Oh. My. God,” I say, “That old dude is my Lit. Professor and that girl is in my class.” I watch as the couple make there way over to us, fondling each other, not a care in the world.

Jake laughs.

As they come closer, Jake decides to be a smart ass and stand right in there way so they have no choice but to stop and look.

He does this to be an *.

When they stop and see him, and me, it’s awkward as all hell.

“Hi, Professor Greene,” I say quietly, looking down, I try to smile but it doesn’t follow through because Jake is an *, and this is fricken awkward.

“Oh!” The professor sounds surprised. He let’s go of the student and straightens up, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Hi, Miss Jones.”

He eyes me and then Jake.

His eyes widen slightly.

“I didn’t know that Jake Andrews was your boyfriend.”

“Oh, he’s not.”

Jake tenses next to me, then walks away, heading towards our room.

The professor tries to make awkward conversation, and the student tries to hide behind him.

As quickly as possible we say our goodbyes and I walk back to the room.


When I open the door he’s coming out of the bathroom.

“I’m going to take the floor, so you want to pick what pillows and blankets you want now?” he says to the room. He won’t look at me.

What?

“What?”

“I said-"

“I know what you said, Jake. But we have a king sized bed here, it’s not like we haven’t slept in the same bed before. Did I do something?”

“Whatever, Micky. Just pick so I can get some sleep. I’m tired as f*ck.”

Micky? He never calls me Micky.

“What happened? You never call me Micky.”

“Well, maybe I should, that’s what your friends call you right?”

“Jake-"

“Well, if I’m not your boyfriend, and I’m not your friend, then what the f*ck am I?” he’s yelling at me. “What the f*ck am I to you, Mikayla? Tell me, please, because you sure as shit aren’t making it clear!”

I look down and shrivel into myself, hoping to god this isn’t happening. Because I need him, so bad. And he hates me right now.


Jake


“So?” I ask.

“Jake, I can’t, I can’t be more than this, not now, not yet.” Her voice breaks as tears form in her eyes. She won’t look at me.

“More than what, Mikayla?” I growl out. “More than friends? We’re more than friends and you know it. You can’t deny it either, all the touching and feeling. The innocent kisses and f*cking hand holding. You,” I point to her. “You sitting on my goddamn lap whenever you get the chance. Last night, when you were riding my dick? And I made you come? That’s what friends f*cking do, Mikayla?”

“Jake, that’s bullshit, don’t put it all on me. You know damn well you’re partly responsible for that too. It’s not just me. It never has been.”

“I’m not the one denying anything, Micky.” I spit out again, just to bring it home. “You’re the one that can’t decide what the f*ck we are.”

“I don’t know!” she yells, standing up. Her voice is hoarse and tears are leaking from her eyes faster than she can wipe them away. She’s biting her lip so hard she’s going to draw blood. “I don’t know what the f*ck to say, Jake. I mean, you have to know how I feel about you. You have to know that I…” she trails off.

“That you what, Mikayla?”

“I don’t know, okay?” She starts pacing the floor. I stand and watch her. “I just know that we can’t be together, not in that way. It’s just too much. I’m not ready. It’s just too f*cking soon and I’m not f*cking ready for it,” she screams louder with every word. She calms her breathing down and looks at me. “I just, you know how I feel, Jake. I just want you. Just you…”


Mikayla


Instantly, he’s rushing over to me and pins me against the wall. He lifts me up by my ass and I automatically wrap my legs around his waist. He’s kissing my neck, my collarbone. My face. Anywhere but my mouth.

I’m gripping his hair, my head thrown back to give him better access to my neck, I’m moaning and groaning and I’m so f*cking wet, I’m sure he can smell it. I want him so bad. God, I want him.

He leads me to the bed and places me down. His lips never leaving my skin. He starts to remove my top and I sit up to help him pull it off. I’m not wearing a bra and my nipples are so hard they could cut glass. I’m so f*cking turned on. He continues to kiss my neck while one hand cups my breasts gently and passionately. I scream quietly into the air. He position himself between my legs and I let out a cry as we start to move together. His lips get lower and lower on my neck until they reach my chest. He starts to kiss my breasts, one after the other, then licks in the dip between. I’m about to lose control, then his tongue is on my nipple and his mouth covers it, sucking gently, then moving to the other and doing the same, licking, and sucking and nipping each one. My hands are gripping the comforter under us and my head is thrashing side to side on the pillow. I’m struggling to keep from crying out loud, the pleasure is That. Fucking. Amazing. Then his mouth goes lower, and lower, his tongue dipping into my naval and I know where this is going and I want it So. Fucking. Bad. I want to cry in anticipation. His hands go to the band of my pants as he slowly starts to pull them down. My hands go to his hair, as I not so subtly push him further down, begging, pleading for a release, the alcohol making me braver.