36. Nora

THIRTY-SIX

Preparingfor our end-of-year exams is a huge kick in the ass. I much prefer doing practical things like acting or directing but finishing up my screenplay and the commentary has been a nightmare.

My film is a satirical take on Homer's The Odyssey, mostly based around Penelope and the women in the text with a twenty-first-century lens on it. Women in classic Epics always have some sort of troubled past or are witches like Circe, which is why I wanted to make it as unhinged as possible as if these Greek legends were real people in today's society. It was fun working on it and blocking out monologues with Kiara, but actually having to edit it and reread it a million times has been a pain in the ass.

My friends and I booked a slot at the pottery painting place in town as a stress reliever. One of Connor's teammates' moms owns the shop, and she was kind enough to fit us in despite the busy schedule. There's nothing I enjoy more than watching the concentration on my friends" faces as they try to paint little designs on their chosen pieces.

I'm sitting in between Wes and Elle whilst Cat and Connor sit on the other side. Archer was here twenty minutes ago, but he didn't paint. He came and watched like the grump he is, went into the back for something, and then just disappeared. I've never got a good read on him, and I've given up on figuring him out. He might be grumpy and sometimes a little rude, but I weirdly have a lot of love and respect for him. With the way Elle watches him and the way her face drops when he disappears, I'm sure I'm not the only one.

"What are you painting, Elle-Belle?" I ask, leaning over to the heart-shaped box she's been filling in with her watercolors. I'm desperately trying to ignore the fact that Wes has been painting beside me with one hand while his other hand grips my thigh.

She sighs. "I was going to paint daisies on them, but I'm a shit painter. I'm trying something else; you'll see."

"I'm sure it will be gorgeous," I say, looking down at my monstrosity. One of the last times we were all here, Wes tackled me to the ground, and we were in a very competitive paint fight. It was one of the first times I ever felt something for him. He was working his charming magic on me, and the way he was pinning me to the ground did very unholy things to my insides. "It'll look better than mine."

I tilt my head to the side, hoping the new angle will make the frog look a little better. It doesn't. I swore I followed Mrs. Redford"s directions properly, but my mixing of primary and secondary colors has gone horribly wrong.

Connor snorts at that. "I'm sure anything will be better than yours."

"Oh, shut up," I grumble. Wes's hand squeezes my thigh like he's telling me to back down, but I ignore it, just embracing the warmth of his hand.

"You shut up," he barks back. I narrow my eyes at him, sticking my tongue out. "You're so childish."

"I know you are, but what am I?" He doesn't say anything; he just looks down at whatever he's painting. He chose a flat circle, and it's all covered in different shades of purple. "What's that supposed to be Michaelangelo?"

"Purple roses," Cat says for him, smiling down at the thing he's made. They don't look like roses at all, but I don't want to burst their bubble. Connor is not the best in the creative department. "Like the ones he got me for my twentieth, remember?"

"Ah, how could I forget where he left you a note that confirmed to me that you two were sleeping together," I say sweetly. I've not been able to stop teasing them about how insanely romantic – and cheesy – the note was.

In unison, all of us but Connor say, "To my Catherine. Twenty roses for your twentieth. You're my favorite person ever. Love from, Connie."

Connor cringes at his own words, shaking his head when we all burst into a fit of uncontrollable laughter. "I'm never going to live that down, am I?"

"Unfortunately, not," Wes mumbles.

"I still think it was very sweet, Connie," Cat whispers, kissing my brother on the cheek. They share a look that I guess only two people in love give each other. It makes my stomach dip with how happy I am for them both and to have finally realized what true happiness is with Wes.

When the moment breaks, Connor turns back to the table, a serious look on his face. "So, speaking of houses…"

"No one said anything about a house," Wes says, still trailing his hand up my thigh. I squeeze my thighs together, trapping his hand. I turn to him to catch his reaction, but he's just got a satisfied grin on his face like this is the best thing that happened to him.

Connor's next words knocked the wind right out of me: "Cat's moving out, and she's moving in with me."

"Connor," Cat chides, hitting him in the arm. "I was supposed to say it."

"What?!" Elle and I gawk at the same time. The thought of any of us moving out within our years at college has never crossed my mind. We committed to sticking together in our dorm for the whole four years. This was not in the plan.

"The system's breaking down," Elle says, placing her palms on the table as if she's having a nervous breakdown. Honestly, she might be. And I might join her. "I can't fucking deal with this."

I stare at Cat, my eyes wide. "You're moving out? We only have a year left, Cat. It was always supposed to be just us three."

She sighs, biting her bottom lip. "I know, but I just want a change of scenery, you know? I'm at their house all the time anyway, and he doesn't mind me moving into his space. It'll be nice to live together. We were probably going to move in together after we finished college, anyway, so why not now?"

When I don't get the words out, Wes speaks for me. "Makes sense to me," Wes says, shrugging. Not the words I would have chosen. And a little too accepting for someone who constantly complains that they're always fucking.

I turn to him, my eyes narrowed. "You knew about this, and you didn't tell me?"

He grins. "Seems like they wanted to tell you themselves, Sunshine."

I take in a deep breath. This isn't the end of the world, but it kind of feels like it. It has always been us three. Always. Through everything, we've always been together. We've had our little traditions over the years, and seeing how much they've faded out in the last year reminds me of how much I need to keep the connection with them. When you spend so much time with someone, it's hard to let them go. It's hard to watch them go. Even if it's just a few blocks away. None of us share any classes, so we'll hardly see each other on campus. Cat moving in with Connor just means they'll spend more time together, and there'll be less room for our girl time. Before we know it, they'll be married and living across the world.

"Are you guys okay with this?" Cat asks. Elle and I both nod, but she knows just as much as me that it might take me a minute to process this. We'd never want to hold her back from something that she loves.

"I'm okay with it," I say. "It's just a shock. I've gotten so used to living with you. It's going to be weird with just us two."

"Yeah," Elle agrees. "How are we going to fill the Catherine-sized hole in our hearts?"

Cat's lip quivers as if she's about to cry. If she starts crying, we're all done for. "I'll be less than half an hour away, and I"ll still see you all the time, anyway. Besides, there's a waitlist for some girls who want to transfer dorms. We can do some interviews in a few days to get to know them. That way, it won't be too bad."

That doesn't sound like an awful idea. "Ooh, like auditions!" Elle says.

"I guess?" Cat shrugs one shoulder.

"Can we make them sing ‘Since U Been Gone' like in Pitch Perfect?" I ask hopefully. The boys groan. We've had a connection with that movie since it came out, and I don't want to miss the opportunity to recreate one of the best movie sequences in cinematic history.

"If you insist," Cat says, smiling wide. "Are we good?"

I turn to Elle, and she beams at the two of us. An absolute ray of sunshine, that one. "We're always good, Cat," I reply. "We want you to be happy, and if moving in with my boring-ass brother is what makes you happy, then fine by me." We all laugh, but Connor just throws me a scowl. I know he loves me, really.

"Okay, this is great and all that, but I want to get back to painting now," Wes says, impatient as ever.

Just like Wesknew about Cat and Connor dating before I found out, he knew she was going to be moving out. As much as he tells me I'm his best friend, he's a traitor. He doesn't seem to care that I'm annoyed at him because the second we get back to the dorm, he's kissing across my neck like he's not seen me in years. He's got his hands on me in every way that I can, and I'd appreciate it if I could get through my dorm without falling over.

"Can you relax?" I ask, pushing at him, but he only pushes back. He pushes my hair in front of my shoulder, kissing me from behind as I squirm under his touch. The bareness of my neck just reminds me of the necklace I'm missing, and goosebumps spread across my skin. "Wes."

"Hm?" he hums into my skin as I fumble with the key to my door.

"Can you at least let me get into my room?" I laugh. He listens then, finally stepping away from me. I unlock the door, and within seconds, my back is against it, and Wes is pressing himself into me. I gasp at the hardness in his jeans. "What are you doing?"

He kisses across my jaw, making a slow journey down my neck. "This dress has been driving me insane all fucking day." My eyes flutter closed and he murmurs, "So fucking hot."

"I know. That's why I wore it," I pant.

He just hums, kissing and sucking on my neck like a man starved.

"I'm still annoyed at you, by the way," I manage to get out when his hands travel further up my thighs, his rough hands massaging me there.

"What have I done now?"

"You kept me out of the loop. Again," I say. He groans in response. I have way too much fun messing with him. "You're supposed to be on my side."

"I'm always on your side." He buries his face into my neck, making shivers erupt across my entire body as he kisses and sucks me there. "I've been such a good boy, Nora," he whines.

"Not good enough."

"No?" I shake my head, trying to catch the breath I didn't know I lost. "What can I do to prove it? Tell me what I need to do, and I'll do it. I'm desperate, Sunshine."

"I can see that you're desperate, Wes," I say, panting.

"Then do something about it," he says, peeling down the straps of my dress enough to kiss along my shoulder. The way his lips work over my skin almost makes me want to surrender myself to him. To give him all of me. He can have all of me as far as I'm concerned.

"What do you want me to do?" I ask breathlessly.

"You can start by taking off that dress of yours," he whispers. He steps back, turns me around, and walks me towards the bed. I stand with my back to it, peering up at him, suddenly not sure where I should look. "Take your time, baby. I can wait all day if my reward is seeing what's under that dress."

His words knock the wind out of me. I slowly bring my hands to the straps of my dress, keeping my eyes locked with him as I drop one down, pulling my arm out. His heated gaze makes my skin erupt in goosebumps.

I peel down the other side until both of my arms are free, and my boobs bounce out on top of the fabric. My entire body tingles when I watch his eyes travel down to my chest, and I continue pushing the dress off me until I'm wearing nothing but my panties. The look on Wes's face is almost enough to make me drop to my knees in front of him. He's worshiping me without even saying anything.

"Fucking hell," he groans, pressing his fist to his mouth. I feel awkward. I've got no clue what to do with my hands. I've never been asked to undress in front of someone, not like this, at least. And he's looking at me like he wants to eat me.

"Okay. Now what?" I ask, my voice strangled. He steps closer to me, and I step backward, the back of my knees hitting my bed.

"Get on the bed and spread those pretty legs for me. I want to see you," he says, his voice low and rough. I pathetically whimper just at his words, and he's not even doing anything. I drop onto the mattress, and he's over me in seconds, kissing me deeply. He makes his way down my chest and to my stomach. "Fuck. When did you get this?"

"A few years ago." I look down at him, my chest heaving as he kisses across my belly button where a golden star stud has been pierced. "I don't put it in all the time. I took it out when Ryan and I were dating. He said it wasn't flattering. I just put it in when I want to feel pretty."

He hums against my skin, kissing across the area. "You doll yourself up just for me, Sunshine?" he murmurs as he swirls the gold in his mouth.

I let out a soft "Fuck," as I watch him.

"Answer me," he demands. He kisses across my thighs, making my head spin as his teeth tug on the fabric of my panties. I don't know what's switched in him, but he's managing to turn my inside out with all these soft, lingering touches.

"No," I get out. "I do it for myself."

"Right answer." Wes bites at my panties as he keeps his gaze locked on mine. His eyes are hooded. Hungry. Almost like he's been starving himself for this. For me. As if reading my thoughts, he groans, "Do you know how long I've waited for this?"

My back arches at his rough voice. "How long?"

"Fucking years. It's been absolute torture," he whispers into my skin, running his hands up the length of me, cupping my breasts. "I won't be able to keep my hands off you after just one taste, Nora."

The desperation in his voice undoes me. So does the way he says my name. It feels like he always calls me everything but my actual name. It's always Nor, Sunshine, or my personal favorite, Stargirl. But when Wes calls me by my name, I feel like I've reached the peak of my existence.

He continues kissing along the fabric that I've drenched, pressing his lips to my clit. I moan embarrassingly loud. He doesn't seem to care, though; he just nudges his nose against me, and I let out a soft cry. The way he's just there, hovering, smelling, feels so fucking dirty, and I love all of it.

"How wet are you, Sunshine?"

"I think you can figure that one out on your own, Wes. Don't you think?" I would sound snarky if I weren't already out of breath. He hums, the sound vibrating against my clit, rushing right through me.

"Do you still want to play, pretty girl?"

"Always," I whisper. He doesn't seem to get the hint, and he continues peering up at me with his face between my legs. "Yes, yes, yes," I chant like I'm in some sort of cult. "I want this, Wes. I want you. Please."

My chest is heaving now, and he laughs at me, all deep and throaty. "I didn't say you had to beg, baby."

I'd give him some sass if it didn't feel like my entire body was on fire. I'd do anything if I didn't feel like putty in his hands. He keeps his eyes locked with mine as he slowly – so fucking slowly – works down my panties until I'm bare in front of him.

I thought that being naked in front of my best friend for the first time would make me anxious. I thought I'd get up and run. But with the way Wes is burning holes into my skin with his eyes, full of complete wonder, I don't feel scared. I feel like I'm being worshiped properly for the first time.

He never does as I expect, and he surprises me by kissing a trail across my inner thighs, licking the wetness that has gathered there just for him. He groans as he continues making a meal of me, his hands locked around my outer thighs. The sight of his face between my legs makes my head spin.

"So good," he murmurs. The sound vibrates against my pussy, and my back arches, gripping onto his hair. Wes Mackenzie's gorgeous face is between my legs, and I feel like I'm in heaven. "I've been starving for this, Nora. Fucking starving."

"Wes." I let out a whimper when his mouth finally met my clit in a soft pinch. He's hardly doing anything, and I'm sure I could fall apart in his hands right now. He gives me one long lick down my pussy before he starts feasting on me.

I don't think the sounds leaving my mouth are even intelligible anymore. I'm squirming beneath him as he continues licking and sucking on me like he was fucking made to do it. The muscles on his back make my vision go blurry.

He has no business being this fucking attractive. He didn't even need me to tell him that I wanted to feel him here. He just did it. In fact, he initiated it, which is a lot more than any guy has ever done for me before. It shows me that he wants this. That he wants me.

"How's this?" he murmurs into my skin, sucking my clit into his mouth.

"Wes."

He chuckles, the sound deep and throaty. "You've got to tell me if this is good, or I'll stop." My hips buck up in response, my mouth drying as words fail me. "You don't want me to stop, do you, Stargirl?"

"No," I gasp. "Please don't stop."

"I thought that would be the case," he mutters. He continues feasting on me, my body writhing beneath his touch. "Be a good girl for me and keep still."

"I– I can't."

"You can, Nora. I've got you."

His encouragement helps me relax slightly, but everything still feels like it's spinning out of control. I always get too in my head during sex, and part of me wants to let him do what he wants, and the other wants to boss him around.

I can't tell if he's purposefully edging me, but his pace has increased, and every time I feel myself about to go right over the edge, he stops. I need him to draw this out. It always feels better when I can take my time, feel myself building, and then get thrown right over.

"Wes," I beg, my hands tightening in his hair. "Go slower."

He listens immediately, changing his pace so the strokes of his tongue are soft and taunting. He circles his tongue around my clit, slipping through the wetness, and I moan. I look down at him as he peers up at me, his mouth glistening with me. "Like this?"

"Yes, like that." The confirmation makes him get back to work, doing exactly what I need. I feel light-headed like I could pass out right now.

"If I put two fingers in your pussy, will that be good for you?" If my brain could form coherent thoughts, I'd tell him that it would. I hope the desperate gasps that are leaving my lips and desperate swivel of my hips are enough of an answer.

He teases one of his fingers at my entrance, and I cry out in response, which turns into a satisfied moan when he slips two fingers inside me. It's tight, and I feel him everywhere. He moves his tongue on my clit in tandem with his fingers, the pace painfully blissful. "Fuck. Yes. Just like that."

"Yeah?"

The sound rushes through me, and I sigh. "Oh, God," I whimper, my entire body sweating. I've never felt like this before. No one has ever made me feel this good with just their fingers and tongue. As if he reads my body just right, he increases the speed as my orgasm builds. "Wes."

"Say my name like that again," he whispers into my skin. I shiver. "Please."

I don't do as he says because I end up screaming his name instead when the orgasm slams right through me. I don't know what it says about me, but the desperation in his tone, the whine, the pleading is what threw me over the cliff. He holds my body on the comedown, still licking me and tasting me like he can't get enough.

He looks up at me, sucking his fingers into his mouth with a devilish smirk. Oh, God. He starts to kiss his way back up my body, paying attention to my belly button piercing again before he kisses up my stomach. He swirls one of my nipples into his mouth before he gets to my neck. This is all too much. Way too much.

"I fucking adore you, Nora. I'm in awe of you," he whispers before he collapses on his back beside me. I'm still trying to catch my breath, and I slap my hand against my forehead, feeling how hot I've gotten. I'm in awe of you. No one has ever said that to me before. "Not got anything to say?"

"Thank you," I mutter, turning to him.

He leans over to kiss me, and I don't have time to register where his mouth has just been before I can taste me on his lips. He pushes his tongue into my mouth, and I moan. Everything about it is so dirty, and I wonder why I've never done this before.

"You like how good you taste, Stargirl?" I hum against his mouth in agreement. "Good. Now you know how addicting it's going to be for me from now on."

I chuckle. "That's a little possessive, don't you think?"

"No. It's just true." I thought he'd laugh at that, but he doesn't. He looks at me seriously and passionately, and all I want to do is be this version of myself with him forever.