In The Together: Where You Are Part 10

"Christ, Laney, you're so wet." His fingers dipped lower into me. "Oh, G.o.d. So f.u.c.king tight."

Biting my lip, I gripped the blankets beneath me. The rhythm of his fingers burying into me slowly spreading a sensation over my legs. "Lachlan," I whispered, grinding my hips against his fingers. "Please, more."

He tore his gaze away from my exposed flesh and looked up at me with hungry eyes. "I'm going to kiss you now, luv. Hold on tight."

Knowing he didn't mean it literally, I still tightened my grip. Pressing a kiss to the inside of my thigh, he plunged his tongue inside of me.

Holy s.h.i.+t.

Yelping out, I gripped his head and held on tight. All my problems blew away, the world slipped from my vision, there was nothing except his lips on my core. He lapped at me, tasting me while gripping my a.s.s with his open palms. Crawling back up to me, he took my bottom lip with his teeth and pulled. "That was-f.u.c.king amazing," I whispered.

Lachlan smiled down at me, then winked before he reached behind him. A s.h.i.+ny wrapper flickered in the moonbeams, and I swallowed a large lump that was stuck in my throat. "Are you sure? This is the last time I'm going to ask you, I swear. I just want you to be one hundred percent sure."

Taking his face between my hands, I nodded up at him. "Please, Lachlan. I'm ready."

Burying his scruffy face in my neck, he sighed. "Okay, baby. Just sit back, because I'm going to take care of you."

Carefully, Lachlan stood and dropped his boxer briefs. His c.o.c.k was thick, longer than I had imagined, and it made me wetter than I ever thought possible. He dropped down to his knees quickly, positioning himself between my waiting thighs. I waited, glancing up at the stars as he rolled the condom over his length.

Leaning closer, he pressed kisses all over my face, then glanced down at me with heavy lids. "I'm going to start, luv. Hold on to me. If I hurt you, you tell me, and I'll f.u.c.king stop. Right then. No questions."

Nodding, I clung to his sides, holding on for dear life. Lachlan reached down and pressed himself at my entrance. Tears built in my eyes, not from pain, but from want, need. He locked eyes with me as he slowly began to press into me. A tingling pinch rocked over my core, causing me to press my thighs hard into Lachlan's sides.

"Luv?"

"I'm fine," I mumbled. "Go."

He pushed my hair from my face, wrapped his large hand around my waist, and pressed in harder. A cry tore from my throat, making me clench my thighs tighter. Lachlan's eyes were wide, his mouth ajar, and his hand tight on my hip. "f.u.c.k," he grunted out. "You're so f.u.c.king tight, luv. b.l.o.o.d.y h.e.l.l," he spit through his teeth.

Once he was in, he slowly withdrew and eased his way back in. The burning sensation was starting to fade and a pleasurable ache took its place. "More," I whispered. "A little faster."

I was so comfortable with him. There was no way I would ever find someone that fit me so well that treated me like I was the only girl in the world. Lachlan growled, pus.h.i.+ng into me harder. Once he found a steady rhythm, he gripped both hips and ground harder.

The heat in my body erupted. This was so perfect. Lachlan bit his bottom lip, leaning in and pressed a soft kiss to my lips. "I love you, Laney. Forever."

I drown in his voice. "I love you, too."

"h.e.l.lo." Heather's voice pulls me out of my daze. "Was it Lachlan?"

I blink a few times to focus. "Yeah," I whisper. "It was him."

Chapter Twelve.

Laney "But if you close your eyes Does it almost feel like Nothing changed at all?" - Bastille "I'm not sure I want to do this, Heather."

Heather scoffs, painting more lipstick on my already caked lips. "You're way too pretty to not go out. You're depriving the male specimen of this," she says, gesturing toward my tightly clad body.

Rolling my eyes, I pull my hair into a long side-braid. "Whatever, Heather. Drinks do kind of sound nice. We haven't been out in a while."

She nods. "Yep," she says, popping her lips in the mirror. "I look good, too. I've been dying to wear these heels." Her leopard-print pumps were a little too outrageous for me, but look h.e.l.la cute on her.

"Bethany texted me and said she is going to meet us there. She is running late. So, let's go get us a seat before they're all taken."

I snort and grab my wallet. "I'm sure that won't happen. It's a Wednesday."

Heather dabs some perfume between her b.r.e.a.s.t.s and on her wrists. "Obviously, you aren't used to going out during the week. It's Hump Day and drinks are half off. The Loft is going to be packed."

s.h.i.+t. I didn't even think about that. "Well, I guess we do need to hurry then."

As usual, Heather is right. Vehicles line both sides of the road. A vibrant buzz radiates from The Loft as we near the entrance. A smoky haze sweeps past us as the usher opens the door. I cough and swat the smoke out of my eyes. The place is packed with swaying bodies, the bar full of people chugging half-priced alcohol. Heather wraps her arm through mine and tugs me along until we find a small booth in the corner. She is already flagging down a waitress before I can get my wallet out.

We order drinks and relax back into the seats. "Bethany just texted me, she's here. Look for her."

I glance around the bar, eyeing everyone until I see Bethany trotting toward us. She scoots in with Heather and smiles over at me. "So glad we could do this. I've been needing a drink." She orders one when the waitress drops ours off.

"You need a drink? I f.u.c.king need a drink." I sip my wine and sigh. "I'm the one pretending to like a guy." Sliding the tip of my index finger over the rim of my gla.s.s, I glance at them over my gla.s.ses.

Bethany lifts an eyebrow and nudges Heather. She gives me a pitying look and points behind me. Glancing over my shoulder, I see Aiden leaned over some girl at the bar, feeling on her b.o.o.bs.

Anger. Rage. f.u.c.king torment. My mouth drops open. All the pity I felt for him leading him on is seeping out of me. "That f.u.c.king b.a.s.t.a.r.d."

Bethany shrugs and sips her drink. "He's an a.s.s." She chugs back more of her drink and slams it on the table. "What do you do? Say something? Leave it alone? What would you truly do in the situation, if you really liked Aiden?"

Heather holds her face up with the palm of her hand. "Beat the f.u.c.k out of her."

I snort, then place my drink back down. "No, never hit the girl. Odds are she doesn't even know he is dating me. It's him that's the problem. So, we fix it."

"How?" they both ask.

"We find our own dates and dance. It'll kill him to see that I'm not interested in him and his little two-cent ho. Now, let's pick out my prey." I hope they don't hear the anger in my voice. It's not because I care, but it does add fuel to the jacka.s.s-meter that is Aiden. I'm going to cream his a.s.s.

Heather squeals and clasps her hands together. "We've got to find a fine one. Oh, how about the hottie with the nose ring?"

I wince. "Be nice, ladies."

They both laugh. Ten minutes later I'm about to give up, when Bethany points toward the outskirts of the dance floor. A tall guy with wide shoulders and dark skin is leaning against the wall, talking to a few other guys. He must be mixed with something because his mulatto skin is perfectly colored, with jeans that fit him just right and a dark red s.h.i.+rt that sets off his skin. "Hmm," I say. "He could work."

"Great-now go get 'em. I can't wait to see this s.h.i.+t," Heather says, taking another long drink. "Let's go. Get up."

I put my palms up in surrender. "Calm down, I've got this." I stand, feeling a little wobbly with this wine I've been sucking down. "Wow," I giggle, which is rare for me, and steady myself against the wall behind our booth. "Now, ladies," I curtsy. "Let me show you how it's done."

Staggering, I catch my balance and start toward the floor. Elbows and shoves are thrown at me, almost making me bust my a.s.s. The dance floor is flooded. A few guys try to grab my waist but I swat them away. I'm a girl on a mission. The guy doesn't see me until I'm a foot away. His dark eyes glance down at me, and he smiles. It's a nice smile, almost sweet. "Hi," he says, leaning down so I can hear him over the music. "You want to dance?"

Nodding, I let him wrap a large arm around my waist and pull me toward the floor. Nonchalantly, I glance around for Aiden. He is sitting at the bar, still drooling over the blond. I make sure we can be seen from the bar and press my a.s.s against Hottie's front. Two tree trunks of arms wrap around me from behind, swaying me to the music. He isn't touchy, only dancing, and it makes me want to dance more. It's been so long since I danced; it feels great to sway my hips to the rhythm his are providing.

An upbeat song blasts through the speakers, and we amp up our pace, grinding and laughing. He is telling me to let loose when he is suddenly jerked away from me. Bingo.

Aiden is standing behind him, nostrils flared, fists clenched, and face raging. Oh, yeah. He cranes his neck to look at me. "Laney-what are...what in the h.e.l.l are you doing with this baboon?"

Hottie steps up to Aiden and presses his shoulder against his. "We're dancing, what the f.u.c.k does it look like?"

Aiden growls, grabbing my arm and pulling me closer to him. "We're leaving. How could you dance like that with him?" Is he whining? I'm not sure, but it's getting on my nerves.

"Look, man, we were just dancing. If you would take better care of your girl, she wouldn't have gone looking for a dance partner." Hottie looks down at me and smiles. "It was fun. I'd suggest you get a better boyfriend. He seems like an a.s.s."

d.a.m.n. Aiden lets out a cold chuckle and pushes Hottie in the chest. He takes a few steps backward, b.u.mping into a few people, before launching himself at Aiden. I will say that Aiden takes the punch like a man. His head jerks, then he is flying toward Hottie like a mad man. It's all a blur for a few minutes, my legs wobbly and my eyes hurting from trying to focus. Finally, I clear my head only to be yanked toward the door. Hottie is shaking his head at the bouncer and pointing in our direction.

My arm feels like it's been pulled out of its socket. Aiden is dragging me through the crowded bar and toward the door. The bouncer watches us as we disappear through the door onto the sidewalk. Aiden turns on his heel, eyes wide, anger written all over his face.

"Why-" he trails off, running his fingers through his hair. "Why in the f.u.c.k were you dancing with that a.s.shole? I-G.o.dd.a.m.n it, Laney."

Raising an eyebrow, I pick at my fingernail. "Well, it was just a dance. There wasn't any need for you to flip the f.u.c.k out. Plus, I thought it would be OK since you decided to feel up the blond at the bar."

Aiden's face turns white as a ghost. His mouth opens but then snaps shut. Fidgeting, he finally glances up at me. "I'm sorry-I'm not used to being serious." He reaches for me, but I take a step away from him.

I nod. "I know. That's why I'm not sure this," I gesture toward the both of us, "is a good idea. I had fun, Aiden. But I don't think you're dating material."

He's been shaking his head the entire time I've been talking. He reaches for me, but retracts his arm when I take another step back. "No, babe-please, don't go. Let's talk about it." Fear is in his eyes. I don't feel sorry for him anymore. No more excuses, no more beating around the bush.

This a.s.shole is going down.

Bethany is dying from laughter when we get back to our dorm room. She has had about as much to drink as I have. She stumbles against our door and turns to look at us. "His face, it was hilarious. Has he texted you yet?"

I dig my phone out of Heather's purse. Sure enough, Aiden has called me three times, texted me four, and even left a voicemail. Bethany raises her eyebrows and presses her head against our door. "This was the best idea ever. We should go cut his hair now. What do you think?" She falls against the door and starts to wiggle her hips. I have no idea why, because she looks like she is trying to get the door h.o.r.n.y.

"Maybe tomorrow night. We're all a little too wasted tonight."

Bethany pokes her hip out, along with her bottom lip. "Alright...I'm heading to bed. It's probably good to wait until tomorrow." She pulls her strawberry blond hair from her face. "I feel sick."

I wrinkle my nose and point down the hall toward her room. "You go be sick in your room. I don't want to see that."

She sticks her tongue out at me, then staggers off toward her room. Heather swings our door open and the next thing I know, she is lying on the floor. "f.u.c.k," she screams. "What in the h.e.l.l-"

I can't help it, I laugh. I bend over at the waist and hold myself up with my hands on my elbows. "What did you slip on? Are you okay?"

She gets up and starts to rub her b.u.t.t. "Ouch-stupid a.s.s." She looks down and picks up a piece of paper that had been shoved under our door. She reads it, and then gives me a devilish smile. "You deserve to be bowed to, my dear." She bows and holds the paper out to her side. I s.n.a.t.c.h it from her hand and look over it.

Baby-I'm so sorry. Please, forgive me. I just-you weren't answering my phone calls earlier, so I went out. Then-I mean-she was just there. Please, call me.

Really? She was just...there? I rip the paper into tiny pieces and toss them into my trash can. "Let's cut his hair."

"Okay, now?" Heather says, slipping off her heels.

"Let's take our showers and wait until one or so. I'm sure he'll be in bed."

Heather nods. "How are we going to get into his room? I'm sure he won't keep it opened."

"d.a.m.n, I forgot about that. Wait." I snap my fingers. "I know the perfect person."

"No."

"What do you mean no? You have to help us."

Jacks raises his brow and crosses his arms over his chest. "No, I don't have to do anything. As you can see," he gestures toward himself, "I'm half-naked and very busy with my term paper for history."

Glancing behind him into his room, I see his Xbox controller lying on his unmade bed. "Right, it really looks like your term paper is going to get done."

He scoffs. "I'm not doing it, Laney. That is breaking and entering. I won't be a part of your little maniacal scheme."

Heather blows past her lips and presses her hand against Jacks' shoulder. "Look, this is way bigger than your little Xbox world. This is serious business."

He shakes his head. "Sorry, not going to happen."

"Please," I beg, getting down on my knees. "Please, I will...do your writing homework for a month. I'll clean your nasty dorm room...I'll buy you a game. Anything, we need your skills. Neither one of us can pick a lock."

Jacks lowers his eyelids and purses his lips. "Homework for an entire month? No breaking our deal? And...clean my room before my mom comes up to get me in December."

"Done." I hold my hand out.

Acting like it may bite, he reluctantly takes it. "Let me get dressed."

Jacks taps his fingers against the bottom of the RA's desk. Heather jerks my arm forward and we quickly run into the side hallway. Jacks had been distracting the RA, knocking things over and asking a million questions, hoping for a chance for us to sneak in. Aiden's dorm is across from mine.

Jacks comes around the corner a few moments later. He has a c.o.c.ky grin on his face, and his hands are shoved into his jeans. "What in the h.e.l.l would you guys do without me?"

Shoving his shoulder, I point toward the hallway. We move like ninjas toward the third floor. It's one thirty in the morning and his light is off. I'm hoping he is sound asleep. The beer probably zonked him out, but who really knows?

Jacks glances at us before pulling out his lock-picking kit. I don't watch as he does it, like maybe that will make the situation a little less real. Don't get me wrong, I'm not saying I don't want to do this, it's just, I'm really doing this.

Jacks pinches his eyes closed and pulls up his lip until he hears a small click. "Done. Now, you two have exactly five minutes and I'm leaving you here. Go."

Heather elbows me and gestures for me to follow her. Tip-toeing, we ease our way into the dimly lit room. It takes a minute for my eyes to adjust to the black light in the corner. The TV is on, a soft roar of some football game playing.

Aiden is lying face down on his bed, one arm hanging off the side, the other tucked tightly next to him. An array of beer cans lie next to his bed, all drained, from what I can tell. Heather points toward the cans. "You're making him drink himself to death. Shame on you."