Chapter Eighteen

Zach

Honey's skirt sways as she shuts her locker. I know without needing to look that all the guys are watching. Ever since Jamie embarrassed her and she started fake dating me, she's had this newfound confidence in herself. I like it, and I'm not the only one.

That's why I find myself flirting with the inappropriate when it comes to her. Yesterday, when she drove me home, I skirted way too close to the truth, and she called me out on it. Stupidly, I reacted and took our phone conversation too far. I flirted with her, knowing Ella and Tiff were on the other side of the door. That was when reality and guilt settled in. My life is with them, not with Honey, and as much as I'd like to think this mindless flirting doesn't affect me, it does.

With her hand on her locker, she turns to look at me as though she knows I'm watching her. A slow, sexy smile curves her lips, and she raises her eyebrows in invitation. I make my way to her, and the way she watches me has me a little curious. Something feels different this morning. There's an extra twinkle in her eye, or maybe it's a little more pop to her hip, but something's changed about her, and I can't put my finger on what.

She tips her chin and rolls to her back when I reach her. "Good morning, gorgeous."

Her finger scratches under my chin, and she draws me in, kissing me. I brace my hand against her locker since she pulls me closer, and I'm guessing she wants to make a show of it this morning.

I feel a little woozy as she backs away, because that kiss felt different. I don't know how to describe it, but it felt like there was something a little deeper there. Who knows, maybe I'm making this up in my head because of our conversation last night.

"Good morning, Z," she purrs with a serene smile sprawled across her face. Her dimples pop on her cheeks, making her eyes crease, and the only thing I can think of is how gorgeous she looks when she smiles.

"How are you?" I ask, wanting to nuzzle her neck and taste her skin, but I stop myself. I hold back a groan when she runs her fingers through my wet hair, scratching her long nails across my scalp.

"Better after seeing you." Her gaze lingers on my lips, and she leans in to kiss me again. Her hands clutch at my white shirt, crumpling it in a desperate need to bring me closer. Her kisses are feral and hungry, and when she nips at my bottom lip, my dick immediately gets hard. I know, I know, I shouldn't be getting this excited over a fake girlfriend, but after everything that happened between us, I feel like we're a little beyond that. Not quite dating, but close enough to fool around and be okay with it.

"Honey." I try to back away to look at her, but she doesn't let me. She wraps her hands around my school regulation tie, pulling me closer and pinning herself between me and the lockers. I slam my hands against the metal above, caging her in as her lips dance with mine. Mutterings of students sound around us, but I don't care because all I'm thinking about is how much more I want Honey. So I do what any guy would do if they were dating her. I claim her in front of the school again and take pride in it. When I lift her leg, her breath hitches as our hips connect, then I skate my hand up her smooth thigh until I feel the hem of her skirt. It's déjà vu from the other night, and like last time, she's not pushing me away.

My hands tremble when they graze against the soft skin of her thigh, causing it to goose bump. I need a minute; otherwise, my dick might explode. I'm not a virgin, not in the slightest, but I haven't exactly been chasing tail the last couple of years. Focusing on football, scholarships, and Ella has hindered any of that.

Dragging my lips away from hers, I kiss her jaw, licking and nipping at her skin and enjoying the sound of her moaning. Her hips tentatively move against mine, and her body quivers beneath me. From what I can remember, she was never overly affectionate with Jamie in the hallway, so this amount of PDA will no doubt cause a stir with the rest of the student body. At least that means something other than my pants is stirring.

We make out for what feels like hours, but it's probably only several minutes when she lets me back away from her. Her lipstick is smudged, and her hair looks crazy even though she's wearing this cute red headband that frames her face. She's beautiful like this. Horny and heady.

Damn, am I horny too.

All this making out and play dating has my dick harder than a screwdriver these days and means I'm thinking about way more than football when I'm in the shower.

Her lips part, and she draws in a calming breath. "That was… nice." She teases, tugging her bottom lip between her teeth. I want to feel her mouth pressed against me again.

Her hands wrap around my biceps, and I drop my forehead to hers. "We're going to be late," I whisper, not caring about class, but I know she does.

Honey rubs her nose against mine. "I can think of better things to do than history." Her eyes darken, gleaming with mischief I want to take advantage of.

"Oh yeah? Like what?" I dare to ask. She looks both ways, and although the hallway is quieter, a few students still mill around. With her hand gripping my tie, she pulls me down the hall. There's a foolish smile etched across my face as we pass students lingering in the hallway. For all intents and purposes, everyone thinks I'm dumbstruck by this girl, with my hard-on and goofy smile.

Maybe I am… just a tiny bit.

She takes me by surprise when she stands in front of the janitor's closet, opens the door, then drags me inside. Once we're cozy, she shuts the door. I hear the click of the lock, and I look at her with furrowed brows as she leans against the wood with a wry smile.

"The janitor's closet?" I raise my brow. "Little cliché, don't you think?"

She sways her hips, dipping them to draw my attention, but I can't stop looking into her amber eyes. As she stares at me like I'm a steak and her mother's out of town, I step back, confused. As hot as this whole situation is, I have no idea what's happening.

"Now what?"

The room is small, and with every breath, it feels like it's getting smaller. The smell of bleach stings my nose, but I'm too curious about her intentions to let that bother me.

She bites her bottom lip. "I, uh, think we might need a new rule."

Just as my heart rate calms, Honey reaches for me and gently scratches my chest, watching me with dark, interested eyes, and I don't know where to look.

"A new rule?"

Her eyes drop to my chest, following the trail her fingers make around my pec. "Yeah, well, I thought we're doing such a good job with the dating that maybe we need to take it up a notch." She brings her lips to my neck, leaving small, barely there kisses as she travels to my shoulder. "We talked about the potential of kissing plenty of times, but not the possibility of more."

I screw my eyes shut, trying to ignore how good it feels when her tongue tickles my skin. "More? But we're not actually dating." I put it out there, even though her hand is now softly playing with the edges of my buttoned shirt, threatening to go under. Yes, this feels a hell of a lot like more, but I need clarification.

"I don't know about you, but all this kissing has been turning me on," she whispers in my ear before swiping her tongue against my lobe.

Am I dreaming? Because the Honey I know wouldn't be so brazen as to say that. Maybe I misheard.

I swallow, trapping my lips for a second. "Can you repeat that?" I'm so lightheaded from all the blood rushing to my dick that I'm certain I imagined the words in my boner-filled haze.

"I'm tired of getting riled up from our kisses only to be let down," she states, and I know she's referring to her party, because I walked around with a boner for the rest of it. "So, I propose a new rule. We help get each other off." She says it so simply that it sounds like it makes sense. Just two friends helping each other out again.

"Uhh." I'm about to faint because of the lack of blood circulating in my head—the top one, that is.

"How about we start now?" A mischievous grin crosses her face, and her finger dips under my shirt. She toys with the button long enough that it unbuttons, then moves her hand to the next one.

"Sorry, Honey. Are you propositioning me to have sex with you in public?" I ask with a hint of amusement. There's no way that can be the truth. She says nothing, just plants her lips on mine, and when she squeezes my ass, I get my answer.

What the hell have I gotten myself into?

"Honey, you can't be serious?" I ask as I back away from her. With my mouth agape, I watch as this beautiful girl turns shy.

Biting her bottom lip, she shrugs. "Why not?"

Dead. I must be dead. This can't be my reality. Do I want to see what it feels like to have Honey all over me? Of course I do. But did I ever expect she'd suggest this? Nope.

She lets out an awkward breath when I back away. "I'm so tired of being what everyone wants me to be. Trying to act perfect for my parents. To look perfect for Jamie. Look where all this acting perfect got me. Embarrassed in front of the whole school with a lackluster sex life. Oh, and a fake boyfriend who's only dating me to win a bet."

I stay silent because of how tragically sad that sounds. Here's this beautiful, intelligent, vivacious girl with such low self-esteem she thinks I'm only interested in hanging out with her because of a stupid bet. In reality, when I'm around her, I forget about the bet altogether. Sure, somewhere in the back of my mind are thoughts about the money and what it could do to help Ella and Tiff, but ninety-nine percent of my brain is focused solely on Honey.

"I thought you never wanted to talk about your sex life again?"

She raises her hand, a little more desperate than before. "Well, cat's out of the bag. You already know I haven't had an orgasm from a guy."

I groan when she says the word orgasm, annoyed that it sounds so hot coming out of her mouth. "I want to feel something, and since you're my fake boyfriend, I want to feel that something with you."

Her points are logical, and as she steps toward me with purpose, I nearly give in and let her do whatever she wants. Then her hand clutches my shoulder, and clarity reaches my foggy brain. She can't regret me.

"Babe. I'm not fucking you in the janitor's room. We might be fake dating, but I have higher standards than dicking my girl in a closet for the first time."

That makes her pause and search my face for any signs I might be serious. She throws her head back and sighs. It's kind of sexy, but I stay silent because I need to hold my ground. Honey's acting crazy, and I need to be sensible.

"But you were touching me," she mutters, and now I'm embarrassed. Yeah, I nearly went under her dress the other day and today, but to be honest, I didn't have a plan beyond palming her ass. Maybe a little squeeze or two, but I hadn't thought there was much of a reality that she'd want to go further than that.

"I think if we did something, you'd regret it, and I don't want you regretting me, Kitty Cat."

"I can't regret you, Z. It's not possible."

I want to believe her so badly because I'd do anything to touch her, but I can't. This is not how things were supposed to go between us. I should feel guilty, but I don't.

Honey leans against the wall and closes her eyes. "I'm not asking you to fuck me." Damn it, those filthy, breathy words coming out of her mouth are nearly more than I can handle. "I just want to feel something," she whispers. "Please."

My fingers are itching to touch her. The idea of watching her fall apart makes my dick so hard I'm worried I'll come in my pants, but I'm still unsure. Only the thin wood of the door separates us from our peers. "Plenty of people saw us come in here. They'll know what we're doing, and I'm not sure I'm okay with that." Am I turning down guilt-free, relationship-free sex? Maybe the smell of bleach has fried a few of my brain cells.

She smiles with half-lidded eyes. "Olivia told me this morning."

"Told you what?"

"That there's more to the bet than just prom. That Jamie added a public sex bonus." The words spill out of her mouth calmly, which frightens the living shit out of me. Something else has to be coming. "Surprised it took Brett and Jamie so long to think of something like that to add."

"You aren't angry?"

"Not at you. You hadn't mentioned it, and you're pretty much declining my offer now, so you can't be that desperate for cash. Brett and Jamie aren't exactly God's gift to feminism. They both like pussy, money, and posturing more than anything else."

She thinks I'm declining because I'm not interested in her. Wait, am I interested in her? I guess that's not really the question that needs to be answered. The question is if she's interested.

"How much do you get?"

"Five thousand dollars a pop." I say it simply, because Honey and I have never lied to each other. That's not part of our relationship.

She cocks a brow, but no surprise registers on her face. "That's generous for Jamie. Let's get you that money."

Without another word, she rakes her hands through my hair, pulling my head back. I grit my teeth, biting back the moan because I like the tingling pain she's causing. She directs my face to her neck, coaxing me to graze my nose against her supple skin, and all I smell is her sweet flowery perfume. I'm getting drunk on everything Honey, but there's no way I will fulfill her request.

She grapples with my hair a little harder when she feels my hesitation. "Please," she whispers against my ear. "Do this for me." How the hell am I supposed to say no to that? I want to touch her; she wants me to touch her, but it doesn't feel like the right place to do it.

She swipes her tongue across my earlobe, and my dick twitches. I kiss her gently on the neck, whispering into the skin, "Not like this. Not here."

Pushing her body against mine, she's not taking no for an answer, and I'm not sure how long I'll be able to hold out.

"Honey," I drawl in warning, but she ignores me, and one of her hands moves from my hair down to my chest.

"I know you want this too. I can feel it." Her hand moves to my belt. "Let's add another five grand to your earnings."

Her fingers graze the fabric of my pants, and that's when I lose control. I swipe my tongue out, licking the length of her neck and tasting the sweet honey of her skin. "I'll get you off," I whisper, and she squeals.

She's not getting what she's expecting, but I'll make sure this isn't something she regrets later.

Pushing her back against the door, I drape my body over hers and pin her in place. It's a clear sign I'm the one calling the shots now. I run my hand up her thigh and wrap her leg around my hip.

She uses her hands to direct me back to her lips and kisses me with full force. Now that I've given her the okay, nothing is holding her back. I feel the same hunger and need that I did the night at her party, and I can't wait to watch her come apart.

Pushing my hips into her, I drag my hard length against her center. I may not be able to feel how wet she is with the fabric between us, but she'll know exactly how she makes me feel. A little breathy moan escapes her mouth, encouraging me to move faster.

"Zach." She sighs, dropping her head against the door as she moves rhythmically against my dick. We've officially skated past the point of appropriate for fake dating, and I should have held my resolve, but my brain is too clouded with Honey to care.

Slowly, I snake my hand to her ribs, where my thumbs edge the underside of her breasts. She pushes her chest out, and I move my hands to rest on her fabric-covered breasts. When she moans my name, I gently squeeze.

What the fuck are we doing?

Backing away isn't an option anymore since I can't seem to stop my dick from rubbing against her hot, warm panties. She feels so good, and my mind drifts to possibilities of what we could do if she wasn't Honey and I wasn't me.

With her eyes closed, a small smile warms her face, so I don't stop. I slowly and methodically rub my body against hers the way I would if we were naked.

Small droplets of sweat coat her brow, her eyes crinkle shut, and she gets a little breathy. I like the way she looks, so I work my hips faster, banging her against the door as she moans. Anyone on the other side can hear us now, but I couldn't care less, because all I'm focused on is watching Honey's face crack.

She takes a little breath in and stops.

Her legs clamp down a little tighter.

She bites her bottom lip.

Another breathless whisper of my name.

She's so close. When her hands clutch at my shoulders, I know she's there.

"Zach, I think I'm…" That's all she has to say. I bang my fist against the door beside her head, working myself faster and harder, drilling her into the wood with every pump of my hips.

She drops her bottom lip, and her brows cross. Her body stiffens underneath me for a split second before bucking.

I hold myself against her, letting her take everything she wants from me. Watching her come has to be one of the best experiences of my life.

She doesn't open her eyes right away, but as her face softens and her hands unclench, the reality of what we did starts to settle in. When she drops her leg, I step back, concerned that I'll try and take this further.

I just dry-humped Honey Sanderson in the janitor's closet of our school. Not only does that mean we need to have a major discussion after this, but there's serious potential I'm risking my scholarship if we get caught.

Then I rake my eyes across Honey's serene face, knowing I wouldn't take any of it back. Honey needed that. She needed to feel something, and I needed to be the one to make her feel it.

"We should go." I barely get the words out, but I know I need to get some air. If not, there is a serious possibility my dick will fall off.

Although she nods, she makes no attempt to open the door. Instead, her gaze lingers at my belt buckle, and her hands drop to the leather. "Honey, what are you doing?" I push my hips back just as she grabs the loops of my pants, keeping me in place.

"Did you really think I would let you leave here with a hard-on the size of Texas?"

What the fuck is happening? This isn't how it's supposed to go.

Before I've had a second to think, Honey's already unbuttoned my pants and her fingers are grasping my zipper.

Placing my hand above hers, I say the hardest thing I've ever had to say. "Honey, we shouldn't." I know she's disappointed. I am too, but we need to talk before anything else happens between us.

"Relax," she coos. "This is a quick quid pro quo. You just rocked my world; now it's my turn." She talks like we're exchanging milkshakes, not bodily fluids. Luckily, my brain still works despite the lack of oxygen, and I thread my fingers with hers.

"We should probably get to class. I could be in a lot of trouble if someone finds us."

Her face falls. Ignoring it, I pat down her hair and adjust her headband before taking her hand again and leading her out of the closet.

Several students back away as the door opens. Honey looks at me with a knowing glare. They were listening to that whole thing, and Jamie will probably find out about this before the end of the day.

Her steps are lighter than before, but weirdly, all I feel is annoyed, and it's not because of the flagpole in my pants. A moment like the one we shared should have been between us. Now we will be the talk of the school for all the wrong reasons.

Grabbing my hand, she takes my mind off the fiasco while dragging me down the hallway. That whole session was hot, but I'm left with the lingering question of what now ? Surely, this little act of defiance is her way of saying she's feeling me as much as I'm feeling her.

Just as I'm about to tell her we need to talk, she interrupts me. "Are you around Friday night?"

"Friday night?"

Her smile tilts to the side. "Yeah, I know it's a bye week this week, so I was wondering if you were free to come to Kyle's party with me?"

My blood goes cold because this little act is complicating things. I already promised Tiff I'd look after Ella on Friday to give her a break. Just as I'm about to say no, my voice breaks at her overeager eyes.

"Sure, I'd love to go." It feels like there's a stone in my lungs holding back the words I can't say. Too many commitments, too many complications, and here I am, adding to them.

She hugs me, but I'm less than thrilled about this. In fact, I couldn't think of anything worse than spending more time than necessary hanging out with these idiots, but apparently, hanging out with Honey trumps that.

I'll just have to make sure I spend the whole weekend with Ella to make it up to Tiff.

I get a strange sense of déjà vu when I open the door to the weight room, and all of the noise in the room stops. Blank stares and sharp whispers greet me, and I know exactly why.

Honey.

"Yeah, we're not doing this today." Mike sighs, pushing me out of the room before I can make a comment. He tosses a glance over his shoulder and shuts the door.

"What's going on, Mike?" I play dumb because I want to know what he knows.

He shakes his head. "Jamie. He's looking for a fight today, and if he sees you, all bets are off."

"Why?"

Mike looks up at me with wide eyes. "Are you really going to keep pretending that you don't know anything about the rumor?"

"Did he finally realize I'm a better ball player than him? Because that ain't a rumor, that's the truth. One that he could have figured out just by using a scouting report."

He spears me with a glare so hard I swear I feel it piercing my chest. "Stop, Z. It's not funny. This stupid bet is getting out of control and is tearing the team apart."

I raise my hands. "I didn't start this stupid bet, and I'm the one helping your friend."

"Screwing her in the janitor's closet isn't exactly helping her, is it?"

"So you heard?"

"Yes, I heard, everyone's heard. Even students at North Central High have heard about it."

"It's not what you think."

"Is that your way of saying you didn't screw Honey in the closet?"

"I didn't." However, I did dry hump her to oblivion, but I don't need to mention that.

"Then why have you got that stupid lovestruck look on your face?" I pull my lips into a flat line. "God, this is getting messy. I thought you and Honey agreed that it was only about the money and revenge."

"It is only about the money and revenge."

"You sure about that? Because I've never seen you with such a goofy smile on your face, and now I'm hearing secondhand that you and Honey are fooling around in the janitor's closet? You know that kind of shit can get you expelled?"

I nod. He's right. It was not only a stupid, spur-of-the-moment thing, but I haven't stopped thinking about it since it happened, and I'm more confused about where Honey and I stand more than ever. We need to get on the same page.

Mike grabs my face, forcing me to look at him. "Remember why you're here. For football and family." He doesn't say their names, but I know exactly who he means. Tiff and Ella are why I'm here. They have become more important than I could have ever imagined, and he's right. My focus should be on them.

But then honey-colored eyes and caramel hair seep into my mind, and I'll never admit it to Mike, but something in my chest flutters.

Shit.

I hate to admit it, but he's right. I need to talk to Honey before things get messy and confusing. Feelings over the richest girl in school aren't exactly something I can deal with when I have college, championship games, and family commitments.

I need to talk to her before this whole thing gets dicey.