Chapter 21

Bella

Jogging to Drew’s house, the fresh, frosty bite that I’d become accustomed to has slowly thawed, replaced with warm air skating across my skin. Although the pain in my foot has subsided, it hasn’t completely gone away yet, and with every step, there’s a little spike of discomfort. I know Caroline would have a heart attack if she found out I’ve been running on the concrete sidewalk every morning, but I don’t care. Seeing Drew is worth the pain.

I arrive at his house at our usual time, and a shiver runs up my spine because I can’t wait to see him. After last night, we’ve technically gone public, so there’s no need to sneak around like this anymore, but that doesn’t mean I don’t want to do it one last time for prosperity’s sake.

Standing at the sliding door, Drew’s in his usual place. On the treadmill, sweaty and godlike. Even with such harsh lighting, he really is a vision in the gym. The door’s unlocked. It has been ever since the first night, but I still like to knock.

His eyes flick up to see me, but he doesn’t smile since he’s too into his run.

Heat radiates behind his eyes, and I know he’s ready for me just as much as I’m ready for him. It doesn’t seem to matter how many times we’ve had each other; we always want more.

I slide the door open and walk in.

“Do you remember when you were on the dance team in high school?” No greeting. He’s straight to the point when he’s in a mood like this, and I love when he’s in a mood like this. Hedonistic and horny.

“How could I forget? I was on it for a week because the minute I found out we’d have to dance for the football team, I quit.”

“Because of me?” he asks calmly.

I lift a shoulder in answer and then pull off my sweatshirt. “Partly. Hated how everyone fawned over you, including me. But also out of principle. I didn’t want to be in my dad’s pocket forever. Being by the sidelines meant he’d critique my every move.”

“Yet you come to his college and join the track team,” he muses, still feeling ice cold. “Odd choice for someone who wants a little independence.” My nipples harden as I look around all the equipment and wonder how he will play with me today.

“I already explained that. Free college overrides my hatred for the football team.”

“Hate?” He raises a brow, slowly making his way to me.

Giving him a small smile, I take my hair out of the claw clip holding it up and run my hand through it. “Guess you guys aren’t all that bad anymore.” He doesn’t respond to that, just stares at the black foam floor in contemplation. “Why the trip down memory lane?”

“I was just reminiscing about the time I saw you dancing at one of the basketball games when we were sophomores.”

“Oh yeah?” That thought makes my body perk up again.

“Yeah. Your uniform killed me. You were always in these tiny, black booty shorts and a crop top that showed off your abs.” He licks his lips as his eyes track my legs, stopping at the little black shorts I’m currently wearing.

“You’ve got a good memory.” I take a step toward him tentatively because he might be flirty, but he’s acting differently, and I’m not sure why.

“When it comes to you, I remember everything. That outfit has been safely stored away in my memory ever since. But do you know what else I remember about that day?”

I shake my head, and he’s close enough now that I can see the sweat dripping off his dark hair and flushed skin. I love it when he’s like this because I know his adrenaline is up, and he’s ready for some release. “You doing the splits at the end of the routine, and that idiot dance partner of yours, Derek, picking you up.”

I throw my head back with a laugh. “You’ve gotta be kidding me? I think I only danced with him once.”

“And I’ll never forget it.” He tilts his head, studying my white t-shirt, so I take it off and show him the black sports bra underneath. Judging by the wince on his face, it looks similar enough to the outfit he’s thinking of. “Tell me, Bella. Are you still as flexible? Saw you out in the club dancing last year, so I know you’ve still got the moves, but has running shortened your muscles, or can you still stretch them out?”

I push my lips out in contemplation. “I’m pretty sure I could still do it.” I wasn’t sure. In reality, I hadn’t done the splits since high school, but the look on Drew’s face makes me want to try.

He smiles and turns on his heels back to the treadmill. “Good. Take those shorts and panties off. I want to try something.”

I squeal in excitement and immediately push all the fabric off my bottom half before taking my sports bra off too.

The look of determination on Drew’s face doesn’t drop as he stands back on the treadmill. “Get over here.” I tiptoe to the machine, and once there, he lifts my naked body so my ass rests on the top of the TV screen.

“Spread your legs.” It’s not a question but a command, and when balancing my feet on the handlebars doesn’t work for him, he maneuvers my legs so they drape over the bars, and I feel like I’m being split in two. Drew’s unbothered by my whimpers as he takes me in. Spread wide with my entire center on display, I’m starting to feel a little embarrassed, and too exposed.

“Does that feel okay?”

I can’t exactly say that the TV screen is digging into my butt cheek or that there’s a slight burn in my groin because I’m being stretched in ways I’m not used to. If I did, Drew would stop, and I don’t want that to happen.

“It would feel a lot better if you kiss me,” I retort, and he grins.

“We’ll get to that in a minute.” His hands and eyes roam my body as though he’s committing this moment to memory. Glad someone is enjoying my uncomfortable, spread-out position. “Do you know how many times I’ve imagined you on the treadmill like this?” He doesn’t give me enough time to answer before he continues, “Your tight little pussy dripping wet while I work out and eat it.”

Eat it?

Arousal spikes through my core, numbing the pain. The thought alone is making me wet. Drew lifts a finger and teasingly runs it across my slit. “I knew you’d be hot for this.”

His hand goes to the sidebar where my left leg is resting and punches the ‘+’ button a few times until the belt underneath him starts to move. He moves his feet at a leisurely pace while his fingers slowly fondle my lower lips. Always just skating past my clit, or teasing the opening of my center, I groan because it’s never quite enough, but I don’t dare ask for more. He’d slow down just to torture me.

He pushes one of his fingers into me a little farther and gathers up the wetness there before spreading it across my clit and rubbing it around his large thumb. “Drew,” I drawl out, holding onto the tv screen as hard as I can. My grip is loosening because I want to melt into his touch, and my muscles feel like goo.

Drew watches his hand while casually walking and decides to push another finger inside me. “Oh my, gosh,” I cry out. He pumps his fingers faster and faster until he feels me clenching underneath him.

Quivering with arousal, I don’t know how long I can hold myself up. He punches the treadmill's pace up another couple of notches before leaning down and letting his tongue lick up from the bottom of my pussy, all the way to my clit. I scream louder, my fingers tingling with exhaustion, and I’m close, but I can’t have this end. Not yet.

His tongue curls around his fingers, teasing my opening before he laps at my clit. It’s mind-blowing. I can’t think; all I can do is feel. He uses his fingers to pull my lips farther apart, exploring every little crevice of my center. He’s eating me out thoroughly, making sure I feel his lips, tongue, and mouth everywhere.

Tingles soar through my body because the sensation differs from anything I’ve felt before. The orgasm builds inside me, but he hasn’t touched my clit or put his fingers in me since he started. He’s choosing to focus his attention around the edges, and that teasing sensation alone is getting me off.

“Drew. I can’t take this.”

I want to come, but I want to come on his tongue or fingers. I almost feel like climaxing in this position would be a waste without any penetration.

“This is only your first one.” He grunts, not letting up on the edges of my pussy. He seems to know exactly what I’m thinking again, and I don’t have the stamina to argue. Lapping at me again, I let go. There’s no way I can keep hold of it any longer. My whole body convulses, and I lose balance, but Drew holds my hips in place, letting me grind them against his face.

When I come down from the initial high, he flattens his tongue and lets it sit on my now extremely sensitive clit. Slowly, lazily, he drags his tongue around, and at first, I’m not sure if it feels good, but as the aftereffects of the orgasm ease from my body, so does the uncomfortableness. Now it feels like a soothing caress.

Still breathing heavily and losing my balance, Drew doesn’t seem to care. His tongue remains flat on me while he runs, soothing my last orgasm until I start to feel the slow simmer of another one.

I want to stop him and ask for a break, but just as I’ve gained enough breath to talk, his tongue starts to twist across my center, and his fingers push inside me.

I’m done for.

He knows what he’s doing, and I’m helpless to do anything except hold on tight and hope he shows me mercy after this second one.

How he can do all these things with his tongue while jogging and fingering me is beyond my comprehension. I thought guys were supposed to be terrible at multitasking. I can barely hold onto the machine and climax at the same time, but Drew’s always been a savant in training and in the bedroom.

He rocks my world every single time with seemingly little effort.

When he adds a third finger and his tongue flicks across my clit again, I unexpectedly fall apart, crashing into an orgasmic bliss that only Drew’s ever been capable of bringing out of me.

This time, I have no extra strength to hold onto the machine. My body slacks, my muscles sore from overuse, and before falling to an untimely death, Drew slams the emergency ‘STOP’ button and catches me in his arms. Once the treadmill comes to a standstill, he carries me over to the workout bench and places me on it.

Stretched and satiated, painful tingles spread up my thighs, and it’s only after he washes his hands in the sink and offers me a towel that it all starts to feel a little weird.

“That was amazing,” I say in hopes that it will break the ice, but Drew’s frosty exterior remains. In fact, it’s so frosty he gets the disinfectant spray out and starts cleaning the TV on the treadmill.

Talk about a mood killer.

The smell of bleach fills the air. Sitting on the black leather bench, still damp and naked, he hasn’t looked at me once. Apparently, there’s a spot on the TV screen that won’t come clean, and he’s more focused on that than me.

“Anytime, friend. ” He emphasizes the last word. Okay, he’s definitely in a weird mood.

In an attempt to get him out of it, I lay my body on the bench and wait for him to look up. My skin goosebumps from the air conditioning because it takes so long for him to finally acknowledge me.

With a straight face, he scans my naked form as though it’s nothing and then walks to the sink, turning his back to me.

Okay, well, that didn’t work.

Unfortunately for me, watching his back and butt muscles while he wrings his towel out is making me hot, and I know with just a few kisses from Drew, I’ll be ready.

“Are you going to have sex with me or not?” I blurt out rather incredulously. I can’t believe Drew is so callously ignoring my body lying on a silver platter just for him.

Draping the wet towel over the sink, he turns, leans his butt against the countertop, and looks at me. The lust is gone. His face trained into something that I can only describe as annoyance, which is confusing as hell because just two minutes ago, he was eating me out on a treadmill.

“What are we, Bella?”

The words make sense, and his frustration starts coming together. “What do you mean?” I play dumb because I need more time to think about the answer. I thought I’d managed to avoid that question yesterday, but it seems the non-answer is still playing on his mind.

Drew sighs, pushing himself off the counter, and stalks toward me. “I’ll have sex with you if you can give me an answer about what we are.”

“But aren’t we currently having sex?”

“If we are, does that make you my girlfriend then? Am I your boyfriend? Are we official?” It’s the question I knew was coming after last night, but I’m still vastly underprepared for it.

Squirming in my seat, I’m quiet, trying to think of anything that might distract him from the question. Going out with Drew and his friends to the sports bar was easy. To anyone watching, I was just hanging out. Low commitment and little thought. Drew’s not that, but answering his question the way I’d want to means accepting that we’ll have to tell my dad.

I’m a big girl, and I shouldn’t be so afraid of admitting it, but every time I think about disappointing him, I nearly wet my pants.

“Uhh,” I say as my mouth hangs open and I look to the ceiling.

“Because that’s all you talk about when we’re together, and I’m starting to wonder if that’s all you’re interested in.”

“No, of course not. I was the one who suggested we go out last night, wasn’t I?”

“Yeah, you were,” he grits. “But the only time you showed any interest in me was when my ex came over.”

“So you admit she’s your ex?” Now it’s my turn to be pissed. I shut my legs and cross my arms over my chest. What a waste of a good orgasm.

Shaking his head, he closes his eyes in aggravation. “Bella. You’re focusing on the wrong things. I dated Brianna as a freshman before I knew you were coming here. The minute you stepped on the tarmac in Hope, my focus has only been on you. It seems I can’t say the same thing about you.”

“Where’s all this coming from? I went out on campus with you. That’s what you wanted, right?”

Cricking his neck, he turns away.

“We need to tell your father.”

It’s a simple statement, but it holds so much more weight.

“No. Not yet.”

“He’s going to find out soon, B. I can’t keep something like this hidden from him for long.”

“I’m not ready.”

“When will you be ready?”

“I don’t know.”

Shaking his head, he finds his t-shirt and shoves it on. I follow suit, not wanting to be the only naked person in the room. “I should have known this would happen. You don’t want a commitment; you want a conquest. I should never have agreed to take you on dates away from campus. I’m your secret little sex toy. Nothing else.”

I have to stop myself from laughing at his words because it’s not a joke. His hard-lined face tells me just how serious he is.

“That’s not true.”

“Okay. Then what are we?” He asks it like a professor that knows you haven’t been listening.

And I answer it like a student that is most likely failing the course with a shrug. “I guess we’re just people that like to get naked together. You know, you’re someone that likes to put his fingers inside me, and I’m someone that likes to put your cock in my mouth as a thank you.”

I close my eyes because I know that’s a lie. That’s not what Drew is to me. It never has been, but when he puts me on the spot like this, I don’t know how else to answer. He wants me to commit, and I haven’t had a boyfriend since Jimmy, and this is the main reason why. Boys are drama. Drama. Drama. Drama.

And Drew is the biggest drama of them all. My father might have an aneurysm when he finds out.

I stop my mind mid-thought. Is the drama only happening with Drew because I want him to be my boyfriend but don’t know how to do it without my dad finding out?

When I look up, I’m met with Drew’s ticked jaw, and I give him a smile that I hope he knows means I’m semi-joking. He doesn’t find it funny, though.

“Unbelievable,” Drew mutters, stalking past me. “Guess that answers my question.”

With his hand on the door, I shout, “Wait.” He stops but doesn’t turn to look at me. “I like you a lot, Drew. I want to tell my father; it’s just that things are complicated.”

There. I said it. I got it out.

“Let’s uncomplicate it then.” He spins on his heel with a smile on his face.

“Uncomplicate it, how?” My shoulders draw down, and I hide my disappointment because it feels like we’re about to have the breakup talk. There’s sweat on my brow, and my heart beats faster. What am I doing? Why the hell am I pushing Drew away? I don’t want to break up with him. We’ve only just started.

His hands wrap around my arms, and he bends down on one knee. My eyes widen because, oh my god, did I get this all wrong? Here I was thinking it was a breakup talk, but he’s about to propose.

“I’m not ready for marriage,” I blurt out, and he stops moving.

“Good to know. I’m not ready for breakfast. Pretty full after my workout,” he says with a smirk.

“Sorry, I don’t know what I’m talking about.” I drop my head, trying to hide my burning cheeks, but Drew doesn’t let that last long. He tips my chin with his thick finger and kisses me passionately before dropping his forehead on mine.

“Let’s tell your dad we’re dating. It uncomplicates everything.”

How can he still not get it? I’ve said no, but he’s still pushing. I went out to the bar, but he wants more commitment. I don’t know if I can give him more than I already have. He’s Drew. Perfect in every way, and everyone loves him, but I’m me. I’ll fuck it all up, and lose him and my father in the process.

“I’ve already said no.” Backing out of his hold, he doesn’t stop me. “I like you, Drew, but I’m not ready to see my relationship with my father broken because I took his favorite player away. I’ve fucked up too many times in the past, and this doesn’t just affect me. It affects you, my dad, and the whole team. There’s a lot to consider, and I can’t commit to that.”

The honesty feels like a heavy weight off my shoulders, but the sadness on Drew’s face adds it all back. I can’t give him what he wants, and he can’t accept who I am.

“I’m sorry, but I think I should go.”

We’re at an impasse. We always have been, but it’s only now that I’m confident enough to admit it.

I back out of the room, watching Drew as I leave. He says nothing. There’s no emotion on his face as I shut the door, but what was I expecting? A goodbye kiss? Yeah, I blew up any opportunity of that happening.

Walking out, when I shut the door, there’s a heavy sense of finality, and I don’t like it, but I’m not strong enough to go back and fix it.