Say the Word(72)
“Mmm,” I murmured noncommittally, not really caring which pretentious school was undoubtedly preening over his application at this very moment. I didn’t want to talk about the fact that in a year’s time he’d be thousands of miles across the country, in California or the northeast, while I’d still be in Jackson. Or, if by some slim chance I managed to snag a full academic scholarship to UGA, in Athens. The most likely scenario would find him returning home for his first winter break with a new collegiate, senator-approved girlfriend in tow, while I worked sixty hour weeks at Minnie’s in order to make ends meet.
“No interest in which school, huh?” he asked, calling out my indifference.
“I’m sorry, I’m being terrible.” I sighed, turning to face him with an apologetic look. “I’m probably the most unsupportive girlfriend of all time. Tell me, please.”
“I don’t know, maybe I shouldn’t tell you now,” he teased, one side of his mouth lifting in a half grin.
I looked at him with pleading, puppy-dog eyes until he caved.
“Fine, fine, I’ll tell you.” Bash grinned fully at me. “Go Bulldogs!”
I froze, stunned. “You applied to UGA?”
He nodded, a self-satisfied smirk crossing his face. “Well, it wouldn’t be showing much state pride if I didn’t at least apply.”
“Does your dad know?”
Sebastian’s grin faded slightly and he shook his head. “No. But I’m the one who has to spend four years getting a degree I don’t want in political science — I figure I should at least get to pick which school I receive the damn thing from.”
“You did this for me,” I whispered, grinning at him. I couldn’t believe it.
“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” He shrugged casually. “I happen to have a vested interest in the UGA football team. I have absolutely no opinion whatsoever about whether the girl I love happens to be attending that same school next fall.”
My world stopped as his words registered. The girl I love.
He’d said it, right? Out loud and intentionally? I hadn’t hallucinated or experienced severe brain trauma or fallen across some kind of dimensional shift into a world where our deepest desires were fulfilled?
My mouth was gaping like a fish and my thoughts were a tangle of elated disbelief as I tried desperately to formulate a reply — the reply. Because there was really only one thing to say.
But Sebastian didn’t give me a chance to say it.
Abruptly, his hands circled my waist and he hoisted me over the center console so I was sprawled across his lap. I squealed in protest but it did nothing to deter his movements, and I quickly ended up with my back resting against the steering wheel, my knees straddling Bash’s thighs, and my arms draped loosely around his neck.
“That’s better.” He grinned, leaning forward to kiss the freckles on my nose. When his hands began to drift down from their hold at the small of my back to pull me against him, a soft groan slipped from between my lips.
“You’re evil,” I muttered, as his hands pushed my uniform skirt higher up my thighs so it bunched around my waist. His fingers toyed with the thin straps of my underwear as his mouth captured mine in a brief kiss.
“Are you sure you want me to drop you off? I have serious doubts that your Latin homework will be as…” His teeth scraped lightly against my earlobe as he shifted closer to whisper. “…interesting… as what we can come up with in the next thirty minutes.”
“I suppose Ms. Ingraham can wait a while,” I whispered into his collarbone, grinning. My hands locked around his neck tighter and I pressed myself flush against him, feeling a wave of desire crash through my system as his hands skimmed my back through the cotton Minnie’s t-shirt. All thoughts of verb conjugations and worksheets fled as I pressed our lips together hungrily, my body moving against his in a slow, rhythmic grind. His tongue brushed against mine, my fingers traced his arousal through his jeans, and the point of turning back was quickly lost.
“I need you,” I whispered, not caring that I sounded like some cheesy romance-novel stereotype. Because, in that moment, it was the truest thing I’d ever felt — my life was falling to pieces around me, and only Bash could make it whole again. I needed to be full, complete, reassured that this life wasn’t all misery and misfortune. That love and joy still existed, and were strong enough to outweigh the sorrow or, at the very least, balance it out.
My hands tore at the buttons of his shirt and I was suddenly, achingly, desperate to feel his skin against mine. His fingers fiddled with his zipper then came up to roughly rip my panties aside, their thin straps no match for his urgency. With one swift motion, they were torn away. Sebastian’s hands wrapped around my waist, lifting my entire body slightly into the air. His gaze burned into mine as he brought me back down, ramming himself inside me with one fierce, fantastic stroke.
I cried out as he filled me, my hands bracing against his shoulders as I began to ride him. His jaw was clenched, his gaze saturated with heat as he fought to remain in control. Palming my breasts in his hands, he watched me move against him through slivered eyes. My head fell back as I began to unravel, the dizzying passion sinking my eyelids down to half-mast. The car ceiling over my head grew slightly unfocused, blurred as though I’d been slinging back shots of vodka all night.