Whatever It Takes (Bad Reputation Duet #1)(29)

Willow glances at her clock and grimaces. “Holy—we’ve been talking for three hours, and I’ve sufficiently ruined your nap and the whole purpose of you getting rest.” She buries her face in her palms with a long groan. “I’m the worst. I’m sorry.” We’re both beating ourselves up.

Her for distracting me.

Me for distracting her.

I don’t know how to fix this.

“You’re not even close to the worst,” I tell her. “I enjoyed tonight—or today—or whatever you call it.” Tonight for her. Still today for me.

She unburies her face and slowly braids her hair. “So do you want to… maybe… um…?” She takes a breath, her eyes soaking into me like she wants something. And then timidly, she slips off her overall straps and pulls off her green shirt, just in a blue cotton bra.

God.

Blood pulses in my dick, and my eyes trace her soft skin and the tops of her breasts. Yeah, I want to. Times a million.

I yank my hoodie and tee off my head. Tossing both on the floor. I adjust the computer, setting my laptop more on my mattress near my waist. I see myself in the screen—what she can see—and my whole body is almost in full view.

I focus on Willow, and I frown. “Hey, we don’t have to do this if you’re not into it, Willow.”

Her shoulders are bowed in, and she’s clutching her elbows. She pushes up her slipping glasses. “No, I want to. I really do. It just feels kind of…” She glances around her dorm room. “It’s really quiet here.”

“I can put on music.”

She nods and rubs her arms.

I play an alternative rock playlist on my computer, so she’ll hear the noise. “Better?”

“Yeah.” Willow exhales. “I’m nervous.” She shakes out her head. “I wish I weren’t this nervous.”

I know her well. I know that she’s pretty shy and reserved. Our relationship moved slow from the start. Like the slowest I’ve ever had. And there wasn’t one day where I wanted to press fast-forward and speed up. She’s also the best I’ve ever had.

In everything.

“It’s okay that you’re nervous,” I assure. “It’s probably because we’ve never had Skype sex before.”

I look her over, wishing I could be at her dorm a billion times more now. To ease her nerves, to make her feel good. Fuck, it’d be easier if I could just touch her…

She speaks so softly this time; I don’t catch the next words over the music.

I hit the volume on my keyboard. “Say that again?”

“Does it turn you off?” she asks in the quietest whisper. “How nervous I am?”

I shake my head, almost smiling. “No.” Honestly, I’m really smiling.

Her lips start to rise seeing my smile. “What?”

“Your insecurities are pretty cute. You always think you’re so lame and meek, but you’re like that daytime soap opera title.”

Willow leans closer to the screen. “General Hospital.”

I push longer pieces of hair out of my face. “The other one.”

“As the World Turns.” Willow grins a bit, knowing that’s not the right one either. We both don’t watch soaps, but we know our television.

“Damn, college is making you stupid,” I say, sarcastic.

She laughs. “You say it.”

I sweep her features. “The Bold and the Beautiful.”

Willow bites the corner of her lip, her smile appearing again.

“You’re beautiful, Willow.” I skim my girlfriend with hot desire that pricks my nerves and blankets my skin. My dick strains against my jeans. “I think you should get under your covers and watch me. You don’t have to get naked or show me anything.”

Her eyes widen. “You’d be okay with that?”

“Yeah. No question.” I’m usually the one who takes the lead whenever we’re in bed anyway. She prefers that, and I’d rather be in control.

Willow slips under her sheets, and the screen goes wonky as her computer falls to its side. After a second, she must prop the laptop on her lap—since the screen stabilizes. I have a clear view of her face, her cheeks flushed and glasses a bit smudged.

I stay in my camera frame for Willow, and I unzip my jeans and kick them off my legs. Left in black boxer-briefs, I palm my hard dick above the fabric. All the while, I watch her pleasure mount on-screen.

Her breath hitches. I strip off the last layer of clothing. Left buck-naked, and I spit in my hand and stroke my length.

My muscles contract. Fuck. Heat blisters across my body, and I look at my girlfriend, aroused flush creeping up her neck. And I imagine sinking my erection between her legs. I imagine Willow beneath me, trusting me—a girl who’s delicate and shy at most touch, and I go slow and rock deep. My hardness filling her tight warmth that clenches around me.

I fist my shaft in an up-and-down motion and buck my hips up into my grip. “Fuck,” I groan. I just want inside her. I just want to be in bed with her.

I just want more than this, and I know I have to be happy with the fantasy and our ocean-apart reality. Like maybe it’ll be enough in the end.

I arch my hips into my clutch again.

Willow lets out a soft, aroused noise.