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Authors: A. Meredith Walters

Bad Rep (34 page)

BOOK: Bad Rep
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Jordan propped up on his elbows and looked down at me. I touched his eyebrow ring with my finger, something I had wanted to do for a while now.  “What is it?” I asked, when he continued to stare at me.  He gave me the loveliest smile and my heart picked up a few extra notches. 

 

“You are the most gorgeous woman I have ever seen.  God, I could spend the rest of my life just looking at you,” he said quietly, cupping the side of my face.

 

Jordan Levitt was the most romantic guy I had ever known.  He knew just what to say to turn me into a pile of mush.  “You aren't too bad yourself,” I teased, wiggling my hips so that we pressed together without penetration.  Jordan closed his eyes and held himself still. 

 

“Are you sure you want to do this?  Because if you keep doing that thing with your hips, Mays, there won't be any going back.”

 

I leaned up and kissed the side of his neck.  “You're naked.  I'm naked. I think I've made myself perfectly clear that I
want
this to happen,” I assured him, wrapping my legs tight around his waist and pulling him closer to where I needed him to be.  Jordan took a shaky breath. 

 

“Hang on a sec.”  He reached over the side of his bed and pulled his wallet out of his jeans pocket.  He started rooting around.  I knew what he was looking for. 

 

I put my hand over his.  “I'm on the pill, Jordan. And I've never had sex without protection before.  So I know I'm clean,” I told him.  Jordan stopped and looked up at me in surprise.  Now I felt embarrassed so I started to backpedal. 

 

“I mean, it's fine, we can use a condom.  I just wanted you to know that there wasn't an issue with me getting pregnant or me giving you the clap or something.” Oh shit, I was digging a huge hole for myself.  I had to stop...NOW!

 

Jordan dropped his wallet back on the floor and leaned over me again.  “I'm clean too.  So if you're sure...” he trailed off.  I nodded enthusiastically, grinning up at him. 

 

“Oh, I'm sure,” I purred, my entire body quivered in anticipation.  Jordan grabbed my hips and lifted my lower back off of the bed.  He positioned himself and slowly sank into me.  OH. MY. GOD!  He was achingly slow as he allowed my body to adjust to his size.  Because the man was large.  Inch by excruciating inch he slid into my warm depth, his fingers digging into the flesh of my thighs. 

 

I arched my back off the bed as he sank all the way in and started to move his way back out.  He was going to kill me if he continued to go this teasingly slow. 

 

I dug my heels into his backside, pushing him back into me.  “Faster,” I breathed, looking him straight in the eye.  Jordan chuckled. 

 

“I've never gone raw before, baby. I'm afraid it'll be over before we even start if I go much quicker.”  He slid half way in and then pulled out to the tip again.  I was a quivering mess.  “This feels fucking amazing.  You're ruining me for life,” Jordan choked out, his breath hitching as he held himself ready.  Yep, I was going to die like this. 

 

I pulled up onto my elbows and tossed my head back.  “Fuck me, Jordan...NOW!” I demanded, pushing my breasts into the air.  I heard Jordan make a strangled noise, his hand sliding down the middle of my breasts until it came to clutch my hip again.  And he then did exactly what I wanted him to do.  He slammed into me, the headboard of my bed hitting the wall with enough force that it knocked a picture onto the floor. 

 

I didn't care.  All I cared about was Jordan ramming into me over and over again, making the sexiest noises in the back of his throat that I had ever heard.  His fingers started to rub my clit as he thrust into my body with complete abandon.  Suddenly he pulled me up so that I was straddling him, his cock still buried deep inside me.  His mouth came down hard on mine and he started moving me up and down his shaft.  He penetrated me deeply and my orgasm came quickly as I shuttered around him. 

 

Jordan pulled me roughly down on top of him and I felt his release inside me, his entire body trembling as he came with an intensity that set me on fire all over again.  I laid my cheek against his shoulder and he wrapped his arms tightly around me.  He didn't pull out, we stayed connected like that for a while as we tried to get our breathing back under control. 

 

He pulled my head back and held my face as he kissed me gently.  “God, that was fucking fantastic,” he said, out of breath.  It was my turn to grin, feeling incredibly proud of myself. 

 

“Wanna do it again?” I waggled my eyebrows at him.  He laughed and I felt him twinge inside me. 

 

He kissed me and gave me a sexy smile.  “I think that can be arranged.”   

 

 

Chapter Nineteen

 

 

 


We're having that date.  Tonight.  You can't argue your way out of it,” Jordan warned as he pulled my feet off of his lap and sat up on the couch.  I groaned good-naturedly but I was pleased at his suggestion.  It had been three blissful days since the show at Dave's.  Three days of all Jordan, all the time.  He had spent the rest of Sunday at my apartment.  And yeah, clothing was not required. 

 

Riley had banged on my bedroom door around six in the evening wanting to know if we wanted to order dinner.  Because surely we had worked up an appetitive by then.  I had wanted to die of utter embarrassment, but Jordan had taken it all in stride.  He had simply put on his clothes and gone out to the living room to look through the collection of menus Riley and I kept on hand. 

 

I had blown off the weekly Chi Delta chapter meeting, sending Gracie a text using the age old headache as an excuse.  She texted me back with
Who are you kidding? :-)
Yeah, who was I kidding indeed.  After a dinner of pizza and beer, Jordan and I had crawled back into my bed and worked on letting each other know just how much we enjoyed being together.

 

He was flipping amazing.  And I was in so deep that I wasn't sure I could swim to the surface.  Jordan walked me to class but I couldn't completely ignore the looks and whispers we received.  Jordan seemed unfazed by it all and I tried really hard to follow his example. 

 

I had caught a glimpse of Olivia watching us while we had lunch together in the commons.  Our eyes met briefly and the hate in her gaze had me wanting to look away, but I didn't.  Instead I met her stare head on until it was she that finally looked away.  I had a momentary sense of triumph before I felt bad for feeling that way. 

 

So, here we were, Wednesday afternoon.  I had just gotten back from two painful hours of my English symposium class.  I had decided on being an English major, thinking, hey I love to read, why not?  What I hadn't counted on was having to read so much.  A book a day was starting to kill me.  I had curled up on the couch, reading about Milkman's crazy mother in Tony Morrison's Song of Solomon and Jordan had shown up with my favorite mini eclairs from Cup and Crumb. 

 

He brought me chocolate.  The man was a god.  Then he had sat down beside me on the couch and pulled my feet into his lap and started rubbing the arches with the balls of his thumbs and I knew his deity status was firmly set in stone. 

 

I was in the full-on throes of massage heaven when he announced his plans to take me out.  I was still a little iffy about being too public with our relationship.  Just because Olivia was a raging bitch, didn't mean that I liked the thought of flaunting our relationship all over the place.  But I had to seriously stop worrying so much about what everyone else thought.  But it was a weakness of mine.  This incessant need to be liked.  Though I tried to squelch it for Jordan's sake.

 

“So where are you going to take me?” I asked, tucking my feet underneath me and leaning into Jordan.  He put his arm around my shoulders and pulled me tight against his side.  He kissed my temple and I loved that we could be both wildly passionate and achingly tender.  This was the best of both worlds, right here.

 

I put Tony Morrison down on the coffee table and let Jordan hold me close to his chest.  “You'll see,” he said mysteriously.  I looked up at him and raised an eyebrow. 

 

“I'll see?  No hints then?”  He kissed my mouth softly. 

 

“Not a one.”  He let me go and laced up his Adidas before getting to his feet. 

 

“Well, how should I dress?” I asked, following him to the door.  Jordan pushed my hair back away from my face and cupped the side of my neck, his fingers pressed into my skin. 

 

“Doesn't matter, because you always look beautiful,” he commented, pulling me in for one last kiss. 

 

“That doesn't help you know,” I mumbled against his lips.  Jordan chuckled and then our mouths fused together.  It seemed like every time we tasted each other it took an act of god to pull us apart.  This time it was Riley, throwing open the door and stomping inside.

 

“You have a bedroom, you know!” she called out, going into the kitchen.

 

Jordan groaned and dropped his hands from my face.  I closed my eyes in annoyance but smiled anyway.  “I'll pick you up at 7:00,” he said, walking out the front door. 

 

“7:00 it is.”  I replied, grinning as he walked backwards down the hall, his eyes still on me. 

 

Closing the door after Jordan, I let out a contented sigh.  “So things are good in fairytale land I see?”  Riley asked, plopping down on the couch and turning on Myth Busters, her favorite show.  I sat down beside her and laid my head back. 

 

“Yeah, things are pretty great,” I admitted, rolling my head to the side so I could give her a big smile.

 

She smiled back.  “Good, it's nice to see you happy and not moping around here like some sort of Cure reject.”  I rolled my eyes. 

 

“How's Damien?” I asked.  I didn't see much of the two of them.  Riley usually went to his house by campus.  I secretly thought Damien was weirded out by all the girl stuff in our apartment.  The last time he had come over he about had a coronary when I accidentally left a box of tampons on the kitchen island.  He was so awkwardly cute that you wanted to pinch him. 

 

“Eh, things are fine,” she said a little moodily.  I recognized that tone.  She wasn't happy.  I sat up and turned to face her. 

 

“What happened, Riley.  Spill,” I urged.  Riley sighed and flicked off the TV. 

 

“It's nothing. I'm probably being stupid.”  She tried to wave it away but I wouldn't let her. 

 

“If you're upset, it's not
nothing.
  So what's up?”  Riley let out an exasperated huff. 

 

“Okay, so there's this awesome film festival down town this weekend. And I got us tickets because I thought it would be a pretty cool surprise.  I mean, Damien is a freaking art major.” 

 

I nodded.  “Sounds cool to me,” I said supportively.  Riley nodded her own head. 

 

“Yeah, right?  Well, I gave them to him last night after we were done with our shift at Barton's and he told me he couldn't go.  That he promised his roommate they'd go to the driving range.  Can you believe that?  He's ditching me and a film festival for
golf
?” Her voice rose in pitch and I knew she was more hurt than angry. 

 

I wanted to laugh.  What I wouldn't give for simple disagreements like that.  But it seemed when Jordan and I fought it was due to jealousy and insecurity.  Maybe one day we could fight about him playing golf when I wanted to go shopping.  It just seemed so nice and normal.  But Riley was worked up and laughing would only earn me a seriously pissed off roommate.

 

So instead I patted her hand.  “Well, he made a promise to his roommate, Riley.  You wouldn't have any respect for someone who blew off their prior commitments.  Because if he could do that to his friend, why wouldn't he do that to you?  I think he's being kind of cool, actually.  You know he'd probably rather go with you,” I reasoned.  Riley rolled her eyes. 

 

“Yeah, yeah. I know. I'm being stupid.”  I squeezed her hand. 

 

“Not stupid, you're being normal.  What girl wants to be sidelined for sports?  But at least he made his plans
before
you got the tickets.  Otherwise, I'd tell you to kick his ass.”  We laughed together and I could tell Riley was over her irritation. 

 

“So, what do you have planned this weekend?  Wanna go to a film festival?” she asked, pulling the tickets out of her pocket. 

BOOK: Bad Rep
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