16. Chapter 16

Chapter 16

Wes

There is nothing hotter than a woman taking control.

Don’t get me wrong, I am always happy to take the lead, but damn is it fun when someone else takes the wheel. There’s that element of surprise that you just don’t get when you’re the one making the move. And to say I was surprised when Trip planted her lips on mine would be an understatement.

Well, maybe more of a statement.

If I’m being honest, the chances of kissing Trip were high tonight. And no, not because I plan to hang a sweat sock off my door handle – although I can’t deny, that has happened in the past – but because I’ve realized I do, in fact, like Trip a lot more than just a friend. And yes, I am aware my life has turned into a Taylor Swift song. Moving on.

My plan for the evening was simple yet meticulous: set the stage with some Zac Efron singing his teenage heart out, followed by a deep dissection of what it means to be a high schooler, and finished off with a casual conversation drop of where Trip stands on kissing me. Subtle, smooth, and full of consent. The moment would have been screenplay perfection had Trip not jumped ship early. A shame, truly, but I suppose her soft lips pressing against mine is a good compensation.

Before the lip-to-lip contact can turn into a real kiss, Trip scrambles back and hugs her side of the couch. Can’t say I’ve ever gotten that reaction before. Ouch.

“I-I’m so sorry. I don’t know what I’m doing.” Crimson red heat creeps up her neck and deepens the flush in her cheeks.

“My presence does that to most people,” My attempt at a joke falls flat as disappointment settles heavily on my chest. “Is this the part where you tell me to pretend this never happened?” I’ve been lucky enough to have never fallen victim to that particular cliché, but hey, I guess there is a first time for everything.

Her misty grey eyes widen in alarm as she registers my tone. Bitter has never been a good colour on me.

“No! I mean, it’s not that. I meant to kiss you,” embarrassment shines in her eyes, “It’s just I’ve never… you know. Made out before.” She whispers the last part and ducks her head, blocking her crimson face with a golden-brown curtain of hair.

My stomach clenches painfully at the sight of Trip trying to hide from me.

“Hey,” I grab her hand and give it a tug to direct her attention back to me. Turning her head, she stares at a spot on my chest, completely avoiding my gaze. Intertwining my fingers through hers, I use my other hand to gently tilt her chin up. Moving as though her eyes are weighted down, Trip’s gaze rises ever-so-slowly until finally her eyes lock on mine.

“Between the two of us, we are going to get through this.” A flicker of a smile tells me Trip remembers the last time I used that line as well. “Kissing is so much easier than dancing, and lucky for you, you’ve got the best teacher there is.” The responding eye roll makes me laugh, and the sound seems to dissipate some of her tension.

“Do you have any questions?” I ask without a trace of mockery. The most important thing when working with a rookie is making sure each party is comfortable and open to communication. Feel free to quote me on that.

“Would you be able to… guide me through it?” There’s a vulnerability in Trip’s voice that I have never heard before. It’s as though the confident girl from earlier, the one who pressed her soft lips against mine, has retreated back into the shadows of anticipation of rejection.

As if I could ever resist my grey-eyed siren.

“I will do so gladly, but first,” I pause for dramatic effect, waiting for the impatient wrinkle to form between her brows.

Ah, there it is.

“First we are watching High School Musical.”

“She left him again?” We have made it to the final film of the trilogy, and I am pleased to report Trip is wholly invested in Troy’s wellbeing. Or lack thereof, as the case may be.

“Sharpay at least stuck by him all three movies! Sure she was a bit selfish and seriously passive aggressive…”

“I think it’s safe to say plain aggressive,” I cheerfully interject the commentary as Trip continues her rant.

“… but it sure beats the meltdowns he has to go through being with her.” Trip glares at the couple dancing on screen, as if she is visually accusing them of displaying a toxic relationship via Disney Channel.

I chuckle, patting her hand in understanding, “Both Troy and the audience needed those breakdown songs to grow. If no one ever made mistakes, why would we change?” Trip grumbles under her breath as another song comes on.

Grinning, I take her hand and pull her off the couch.

“What do you think you’re doing.” Her suspicious squint goes wide as I lightly trace my fingers from the top of her shoulder down to her fingertips. I leave a trail of goosebumps in my wake, and when I reach her hands, I flatten my palms against hers and bring them up to my shoulders.

“We’re dancing.” I leave her hands resting there and move my own down to her waist. Trip rests her head against my chest, and I rest my chin atop her head, the two of us swaying to Efron’s heartbreak.

Destiny and fate have never been something on my radar, but in this moment, with Trip between my arms and her shampoo filling my senses, it feels like this has been the plan all along.

Shit. Maybe I should be a songwriter.

Trip pulls her head back and looks at me with a question in her eyes. Or maybe it’s my own question reflecting back at me.

“Trip,” the words come out huskier than I intend. My gaze gets dragged down as a smile tugs at her too-full bottom lip.

“Wes,” the sound of my name leaving her mouth is enough to make me want to throw her over my shoulder and carry her back to my bedroom Caveman Cody-style.

“Would it be okay if I kiss you now?”

Lou

If I thought I was breathless before, then this must be what it’s like to have an asthma attack. Wes’ question falls on my pounding ears, and like any sufficient vacuum, it vacates all the oxygen from my lungs. The musical fades into the background as green eyes flick to mine, patiently waiting for permission.

The room feels thick with tension as I stare at the handsome face mere inches from mine. The lack of air currently circulating my body makes me unable to form words, so I nod instead. Releasing one hand from my waist, Wes carefully strokes my cheek before slowly bringing his mouth to mine.

His lips are surprisingly warm as they press into my own. Gently caressing my jaw, he tilts my head and teases my mouth open. His tongue skims my bottom lip and hysterics bubble up inside me. Don’t you dare laugh, don’t you dare…

Wes bites down on my lip and any thoughts of laughter vanish from my mind. Pleasure bursts through me and a sound escapes my mouth. Did I just… moan? The shock has me floundering for a few moments, but it doesn’t seem to hinder Wes in the slightest.

Time becomes nonexistent kissing Wes. I can’t tell you how long we stand in the middle of the dorm, playing a game of tongue tag as Stella would say, but all I know is I never want it to end.

Without warning, Wes suddenly pulls away and drops his hands to my thighs. My groan of protest turns into a yelp of surprise as he hoists me off the ground. Wrapping my legs around his waist to keep me from falling, I gasp as he peppers kisses along my neck. Appearing unfazed by my bodyweight, Wes walks backwards until we hit the couch, the grip on my waist not lessening for a second.

He sits down, my legs continuing to straddle his own, and leans us back so our chests are flush together. I run my hands through his midnight hair, the silky strands giving way for my fingers. Dragging his mouth back to mine, Wes runs his hands up my jean-clad thighs to cup my butt, tugging me closer still. It’s only when I shift that I feel the hardness beneath me.

Wes groans at the sudden friction and heat shoots straight to my core. Shifting again to test the reaction, I smile as the smothered sound escapes into my mouth. The hands gripping my hips tighten as Wes rocks me forward and suddenly it’s my turn to gasp.

Even with two pairs of jeans separating us, Wes has pleasure humming through my body like he’s been studying it for years. Well, I’m sure he’s been studying the female body for years, just not my own.

The thought triggers reality to seep into my lust-filled state. I’m kissing Wes. The social butterfly who’s been upfront about his player status since day one. And I’m the social outcast he befriended and has taken a liking to. Wes isn’t looking for a relationship, he is looking for the next good time.

I put my hand on his chest and gently push away, untangling my mouth slowly from his, “I think that’s enough firsts for today.” My voice comes out in huffs, lungs still struggling to catch up with the make out session.

The grip on my waist loosens so I can lean back and look at the man I’m still straddling. Swollen lips and shining emeralds smirk back at me, “And how would you rate your first experience, mademoiselle?”

“Not terrible.” Wes barks out a laugh and I feel it vibrate through his body. Not an unpleasant sensation by any means.

“My fans will be so happy to hear you say that.” I smile weakly at the joke, his words echoing the reminder that tore me away in the first place.

I slide off his lap, already planning a quick exit strategy, when Wes grabs my hand.

“Hey.”

Forcing myself to meet his gaze, I note the strands of hair sticking up in every direction. I swallow an unexpected laugh; it looks as though I electrified him.

“You know I wouldn’t have done anything you weren’t ready for, right?” Genuine concern floods Wes’ expression and I pause, once again taken by the player’s thoughtfulness.

“I know.” I mean it, too. Wes may get around with the ladies, but when it comes to making sure his partner is comfortable and willing; there is no doubt in my mind he always pulls through. No guy who would pressure a virgin into sex would ask permission to kiss her first.

“Good. I couldn’t stand the thought of you not trusting me.” The edge in his voice makes the raw honesty feel more like an exposed nerve than a reassurance.

With a twinge in my heart, I realize this must not be the first time Wes has had this conversation. And given the sorrow in his tone, I don’t think the past left a positive mark.

“I trust you, Wes. More than anyone else on this campus.” I say the words like a conviction, leaving no room for an argument. He closes his eyes in visual relief and I can’t help but adding, “Well, you might be tied with Stella if I’m being honest.”

Wes chuckles at my admission, “Make sure Stella doesn’t hear that or she’ll be kicking my ass for first place.”

I smile and shake my head, “You’ve got that right.”