3. Libby

CHAPTER 3

LIBBY

He kissed me.

Not just a small peck or insignificant pressing of lips. Nope. The kiss was possessive. Life changing. Like he was trying to claim not just me but my soul and heart without knowing I was slowly handing it over to him one piece at a time.

The way he touched me and controlled the moment made the ache between my thighs worsen with every passing second. By the time he pulled away and rested his forehead against mine, my lungs burned, and I was long past breathless.

"Shit," he cursed. I blinked, trying to get my head back on straight, but I worried it was regret or disappointment I'd seen in his eyes, and my body stilled. Frozen solid as his body pressed my back against the door he had quickly shut.

"Fuck." He licked his lips as his eyes searched mine for a long moment. "I shouldn't have done that," he muttered, slowly setting me down on the ground.

I had no idea how that went from the best moment of my life to the most embarrassing one to date. I wanted nothing more than a big black hole to pop up like some cartoon and suck me in and make me disappear.

"I'm sorry—" Hector, no, Crank started to apologize, but I wasn't going to be some sad girl about it.. He didn't regret it a whole day after. Nope, I'd been so bad at kissing, he had instantly regretted it.

"No, I should be the one—" I started to say, but he cut me off.

"Wait, what are you sorry about?" he asked, and when I wouldn't meet his gaze, the pads of his fingers tipped my head up. "Libby, what are you sorry about?"

"I wasn't good," I blurted, making a bigger idiot out of myself. Oh god! Can he tell how inexperienced I am?

"What?" His brows bunched so tightly lines formed over his brow. Lines I wanted to do nothing more than smooth with the tips of my fingers. But I didn't. I had to keep my hands to myself.

"I've never… I mean, I have—" I wasn't making any sense. "But it wasn't any good. I haven't kissed anyone since Blanca and I played spin the bottle at Geri's sweet sixteen and?—"

"Fuck," he groaned before he pulled me in, so close I had no choice but to press my chest against his. "Okay, let's be clear about something, okay? I'm not sorry I kissed you, princess."

"Why do you call me that?" I asked and blinked when I realized I couldn't see him clearly through my glasses. Jesus, are my glasses fogged up from what I thought was the hottest kiss in the world?

"I'm not sorry about kissing you, Libby. I just should have been, I don't know… sweeter about it," he shared, almost like he was angry at himself.

"Oh." I probably looked like a fish out of water. My mouth opened and closed. "I wasn't complaining." The words slipped past my lips before I could think. My cheeks burned under his gaze. A deep almost animal-like sound vibrated in his chest, and it spurred something inside me.

"Sweeter?" I asked, curious about what he could possibly mean. His eyes darkened and his nose flared. Hector's Adam's apple bobbed, and I wanted to lick the line of his neck and see what he tasted like.

"Yeah, babe. Sweet." His head bent low enough that his mouth hovered just a breath away from mine. So close, every exhale tickled my lips.

"Soft," he whispered. He brushed against mine just like he'd said. Both of his big, warm, calloused hands held my face with so much tenderness, tears prickled behind my eyes.

"So soft," he mumbled almost to himself. "Gentle." His kisses dropped to the corner of my mouth and slowly made their journey to my jawline and then my neck. "Tender."

I tried so hard to stay still. Afraid that if I moved or made a sound, I might spook him and he would realize it was me who was in front of him. Then, when he spoke, I wished I'd minored in Spanish.

"Mi vida, no sabes cuanto te quiero," his voice rumbled.

"What?" I gasped, trying to make sense of his words, but his tone was too low and the words spoken too quickly for me to catch on.

"Babe, do you have any idea how long I've wanted to do this?"

"You have?" I forced my eyes to open and was met head-on with his intense stare.

"Way too long," he answered almost gravely. My heart felt like it was going to jump out of my chest. This was the thing my teenage self had daydreamed about!

"But…" I didn't have the right words. "I'm just me and you're?—"

"Shh." His nose brushed against mine, and everything in my head quieted. All that existed, all I could ever want was right there in front of me. "Come on." He stepped back, and the cool air-conditioned air hit me. I missed his closeness immediately. I was about to ask where he wanted to go, when his hand took mine and he started to pull me toward his bed.

And that was when I stopped dead in my tracks.

My feet suddenly felt nailed down to the floor. His head tilted. I could feel the questions as he watched me.

"Libby?"

"Umm…" I pressed my lips together. Everything inside of me was saying to go for it. To rip the clothes off my body and let him have me. A man like Hector, a star football player, more than likely had a line of co-eds all too happy and waiting to let him do anything he could possibly want to them. They'd have the experience and knowledge to please him, too.

Not like me.

I'd had my one and only other kiss during that spin the bottle game, and that had been it. I was a virgin. I tried to get myself off a couple of times, but every time I tried, I didn't get there. Or at least I didn't think I did. I wasn't really sure. That's how badly inexperienced I was. If I joined him in bed, I'd make a bigger fool out of myself!

"I should go," I blurted. I turned around and started toward the door, but before I touched the knob, his body caged mine. His body heat radiated off my body but didn't touch me.

His hands rested against the wood of the door above my head, but his lips? Those were on my cheek. And again, with anyone else, any other guy who cornered or used his body the way Hector was, I'd have screamed for help.

But not with Hector. Never with Hector.

Even as he used his size against me, whether he realized it or not, I felt safe. With him, the throbbing and wetness between my legs grew deeper, warmer.

"What just happened, princess?"

"I'm not a princess," I mumbled with a hint of sass. Sass I didn't give anyone!

"Libby, look at me. Please?"

"I just think I should go home," I said just above a whisper. Part of me, well, a lot of me, wanted to shut me up. Do as he asked. Let him lead me to his bed and punch my v-card. Let him teach me a thing or a million of them.

But the fear of embarrassing myself or not looking a certain way started to drown me. What if he was into girls who waxed? I was trimmed down there but not hairless. What if I was?—

"You want to go home? Or you think you should?" His questions snapped me out of my thoughts. My shoulders rose and fell, but I didn't turn to face him.

"Libby, mi vida, look at me." Mi vida? My life? The sweet, gentle term of endearment caught my attention. I glanced over my shoulder, and our eyes locked. "There you are. What did I do?" There was something in his gaze. It was genuine and warm, and somehow, I knew it was just for me.

"We were going to your… umm…" I felt my face heat up and could only imagine how red I'd turned.

"To my bed?" he guessed. I nodded, shoving my glasses back up the bridge of my nose.

"Yeah." I heard his hands slide down the door slowly, almost like he was giving me a moment to escape, but I had a feeling I was already very much tangled in his web.

His hands dropped to my waist. Slowly, and oh so gently, he turned me around and bent so we were at eye level.

"You're tired."

"Right," I lied. I mean, I had been, but that kiss had woken me up.

"So, I was taking you to my bed so I could grab you a shirt and some shorts and you could get into bed."

"And then?" The words were just above a whisper, and I frowned when I caught a slight smirk on his mouth.

"Then?" he repeated before he pressed his talented lips together. Almost like he was trying to stop himself from smiling. "I was going to suggest you take a nap. On my bed. We just worked an overnight shift and…."

"Oh god," I groaned. My head dropped. Thankfully, he couldn't see my mortification since I didn't try to pull my face off his strong warm pec. And if I were paying attention to anything more than my own embarrassment, I would have caught the erratic almost nervous beating of his heart.

His hand covered the back of my head and stroked my hair, and just like that, I actually relaxed. It was a simple, innocent touch but felt like it had loosened everything inside of me and was quickly turning me into a puddle of mush.

"What did you think I was proposing?"

"I don't know." My answer sounded muffled against his shirt.

"Hmm," his chest rumbled. "Babe, look at me, please?" I had a feeling that soft please could get a girl in trouble. I did as he asked, finding the courage to look up until our eyes connected. His gaze was soft, if not still a little intense.

"What did you think I was doing, baby?" Baby? Princess? Mi vida? All these cute little nicknames were seriously going to my head. Was this how he operated?

"I don't know. You kissed me like… well, like that—" I pointed behind me toward the door I'd been pressed against. "And then... I'm not… I'm not very… umm…" His brows bunched and something in his eyes darkened. "I'm not very experienced, and I thought you were done with, you know…"

"Done with what?" There was an edge to his voice I missed in the moment.

"Foreplay," I blurted, but for some Godforsaken reason, I kept talking. The sooner we had this conversation, the sooner he'd realize how stupid and na?ve and just not worth his time I was and send me off to my dorm, and we'd never have to talk about it again.

We'd go back to the way things were supposed to be, and the universe would make sense again.

With me and my nose stuck in a book, soaking in any and every little detail about him from afar. And he'd go back to… hooking up with sorority girls and whoever else he hooked up with. The thought left an ugly tightening in my gut.

"Foreplay. Done with foreplay and, you know, you wanted to get on with it." He didn't move. And then I realized he wasn't breathing. I straightened and looked at him. "Crank?"

"Hector," he corrected, and something inside me got all warm and mushy. "First off, when I have you, and foreplay happens? It's not going to be some hot-as-fuck kiss against the door. It's going to last hours."

"Hours? I squeaked, but he ignored me and kept sharing. Shaking up my world with every single word.

"And I won't come up for air until all I can taste and breathe and feel is you. Do you understand?" I didn't know how I was still standing. Or how this was actually real life.

Did Hector Dominguez actually say that to me?

"Honestly? No," I whispered. His gaze zeroed in on my teeth pressed into my bottom lip. His hand cupped my face, the pad of his thumb brushing where I'd bitten down on.

"You will." I would? He sounded like it was a promise or a vow. I shivered and he frowned. "I'm fucking this all up," he groaned. I blinked, tearing my eyes off his.

Knowing he wasn't just going to pounce on me or that we weren't going to have sex, I wasn't sure if I was disappointed or relieved. Maybe a little bit of both, though more of the first, if I was honest.

"Come on, let's get you taken care of." His hand slid from my face to my shoulder to my arm and didn't stop until he was holding my hand.

He walked us to the dresser next to his bed. One I had not noticed. Without letting go of my hand, Hector took out a baby blue shirt with our school's mascot on the front. He handed it to me and then added a pair of shorts.

"Put this on. I'll be right back," he ordered gently. Before I could argue, he kissed the top of my head and walked out. I glanced down at the clothes in my hands then around Hector's room.

He had said a lot of things.

Things I wasn't ready to dissect and overthink. But one thing kept bouncing in my head, playing on repeat.

Let's get you taken care of.

Let's get you taken care of. I blinked away tears that were suddenly seriously threatening to roll down my cheeks.

Let's get you taken care of. It had been a long time since someone had taken care of me.

Or had wanted to who wasn't my best friend or her mom.

Sure, now it was her brother, but this felt different.

If you had told me this is where I'd find myself this morning before my shift last night, I would have thought you were crazy. Now I wondered if I was the one who should be locked into a looney bin.

How the hell had this happened?

But I guess I wasn't completely overthinking it because while deep in my thoughts as I heard Hector's words bounce around, I'd taken my uniform off and changed into his clothes. The shorts were too big. I tried to tie them and then fold them over, but it wasn't going to work.

Thankfully, his shirt was big and long enough it passed my knees about an inch, so I decided to just wear that, not realizing it had his last name on my back.