11. Tammy

CHAPTER 11

TAMMY

The summer before senior year…

Baxter's tongue is soft and delicious. The second it skimmed my lips, I opened my mouth. It was an instinctual move, like my body told my brain it's not required for a while because… I got this.

And I'm happy to let it, because this feels so good.

I don't know what possessed me to do it.

Curiosity, maybe?

Baxter's gotten uber hot this summer. I don't know how it happened, but one minute he was kind of long and gangly, and then over the winter, he bulked up big-time. I nearly lost my mind the first time I saw him shirtless this summer, and it's taken everything in me to play it cool and not let my attraction show.

But right now, I can't help myself. This is our last day of summer together, and when he was lying beneath me, looking at me like I was the sun and he would happily spend his life orbiting me, I just had to test my "can we be more than friends" theory.

I could feel him all hard beneath me, and it sent this terrifying, yet addictive, thrill right through me. I obviously turn him on, and I want to know where this leads. I've never done it with a guy before. I'm curious, but I've never met someone I wanted to go all the way with.

Could Baxter be it?

I mean, he'd be a safe bet, right?

If I was going to lose it to anyone, why not him?

He's my best friend. We care about each other.

But do you love him?

Of course I do!

I mean, like that. Do you love him romantically?

I'm not sure. Although my body would suggest otherwise.

Our breaths are growing short as we deepen the kiss again. I skim my hands over his shoulders, curling my fingers around the back of his neck and letting my tongue take the lead on this.

He tastes amazing. I love the feel of our tongues gliding against each other. Long licks, then short swipes, then another lick that pulls a moan out of my throat.

Baxter's hands are skimming my back, the pads of his fingers sending tendrils of pleasure across my skin.

I want him to undo my bikini.

The thought catches me off guard for a second, but I know it's true. My body is yearning for pure skin on skin, and before I can stop myself, I'm reaching back and doing it for him.

"Tammy, what are you…?" His words trail off as I sit up and let the fabric slip off my shoulders.

His face is the picture of awe, his eyes drinking me in like I'm the eighth natural wonder of the world.

"You're beautiful," he croaks, trying to sit up.

I shuffle back to give him room, and he reaches for my chest, then stops, his hand in midair as he checks my face.

"It's okay." I grab his fingers. "I want you to." Placing his palm over my right breast, I catch my breath when he gives it a light squeeze.

"Holy shit," he breathes, his lips flirting with a smile as he curls his hand behind my neck and pulls me forward for another deep kiss.

His hand is still massaging my breast, and it feels new and tantalizing and so freaking good. Then he lets his fingers explore, brushing over my nipple—a delicate study of my sensitive skin.

My tongue falters in his mouth, and I sit back with a gasp. "That feels good," I manage, staring down at his fingers on my nipple.

He cups the side of my breast and runs his thumb lightly over the nub. I can't help a soft whimper. Biting my lower lip, I relish this buzz of energy running all the way through me. It charges down to between my legs, tingling and begging for more.

I don't even have to ask him before he's reaching for my other breast, teasing the other nipple as well until I can feel this intense pressure and heat pooling at the top of my thighs.

I've never felt like this before.

I've made out with guys when we played spin the bottle at parties. I've done seven minutes of heaven in the closet with Ricky Tolson at his fourteenth birthday party, but that was just heavy kissing and some over-the-shirt action.

This is something else.

"Bax," I whisper, fisting the back of his hair and angling his mouth to mine.

Our kisses turn deep again. Deep and desperate. He starts to groan, too, and my hips can't help but rock over him.

He groans again, squeezing my breasts and letting out a soft whimper.

I can feel his hard shaft skim my inner thigh, and oh man, I want to see it, touch it.

Ripping my mouth from his, I stare down at his tented board shorts. He's breathing hard, his face the picture of desperation. Is the pressure too much for him too?

"I want to touch it."

"Tammy." He breathes my name, but I don't give him a chance to say anything else.

Skimming my fingers into the waistband of his shorts, I ignore that flash of trepidation and pull them down. His dick springs free, and now it's my turn to gaze in wonder at this thing. It's hard and long with this glistening drop at the end of it. I've never seen a penis before—only cartoon images in puberty books.

This is… "Wow," I whisper.

He groans, tipping his head back like he's about to orgasm, but I haven't even touched him yet.

"Tammy," he moans.

I reach for him, curling my fingers around that shaft and gliding my hand up and down.

"Oh, wow," I breathe, barely able to hear past the hammering in my heart. This feels amazing. How can something be so hard and yet the skin around it be so delicately soft and smooth?

He groans as I skim my thumb over the end, marveling at this new discovery. No wonder people always make sex sound so great. The sensations skipping through my body right now are overwhelming. This heady zing, this aching need between my legs.

Swiping that bead of moisture off the top of his dick with my thumb, I grasp him again and run my hand down until Baxter jerks, his eyes popping wide and his body convulsing.

"No, wait," he rasps, jolting on the grass, his legs spasming beneath me as a spurt of white cream shoots out of his dick and lands directly on my cheek.