JACK TURNS UP AT THIS FRAT PARTY A FULL THIRTY minutes later with his hair a bit of a mess, like he's been running his hands through it on repeat and his cheeks a little flushed. I don't know why he's so worked up, it's not like I'm out having sex with another guy.
But when he walks in the house, his hands in his pockets and his lip pulled between his teeth, all feelings of anger are replaced by an overwhelming amount of adoration, and longing. I didn't know I could miss somebody I'd never really met in real life, but here I was, fulling realising that I'd missed him.
He spots me immediately, a gentle smile breaking out over his lips as he makes his way towards me. There's at least a hundred people in the room, and one by one they start to realise just who exactly had walked casually into this party. Then they see him make his way up to me, and my heart flutters, because he's mine. Or at least, for this moment he is.
And then Ethan is putting his arm around my waist, pulling me to his chest with a frown directed at Jack, and my previous feelings of excitement and anticipation are replaced with fear.
I was absolutely terrified that Ethan was going to start a fight.
But, I'm also tipsy, and I didn't want Ethan to be touching me, and so I tear myself from his arms and instead throw them straight around Jack's neck, pulling myself as close as possible to him.
It feels like every single person in the room is staring at us, and maybe they are, but I'm in no stare to care. This was the first time I'd seen Jack in person and have been able to touch him the way I want to. I was not about to let Ethan take this moment away from us.
I'd previously told him that I wanted him to come to this party, to meet my friends, but now that he's here I'm feeling needy and a little bit desperate and I want him all for myself.
His arms are already around my waist, pulling me to his chest, but it's not enough, it's not even nearly enough, not when I've been teased by him for a month, and now I'm finally millimetres from him.
"I've only had two drinks," I tell him softly, so only he would hear.
He smirks. "I guess I better catch up."
"Not here," I whisper, hands on his chest.
He pulls his eyebrows together in a frown that id only ever seen on FaceTime before, I take a deep breath in, realising he smells fucking phenomenal. I wonder what he'd taste like, feel like. "I thought you wanted me to meet—"
"I change my mind," I rush out, tugging on the ends of his hair that fall in wavy tresses at the back of his head. "I want you to take me home."
He smiles, cupping the back of my neck. "Not when you've been drinking, Princess."
"Then buy me food, feed me water, sober me up," I beg, pouting. "Or drink two beers and take me home and own me."
His eyes shift, so that they're a whole shade darker, and then he's tightening his hold on the back of my neck and my waist, fingertips digging into my skin, it causes goosebumps that I try desperately to ignore but absolutely can't.
"Lyla," he growls, lips close to my ear. "You already know I own you."
I horny. I'm horny and I'm wet between my legs and I want him. "Then show me."
He smirks, lacing our hands together, then tugging me along and back towards the front door he'd just come through. Ethan pulls on my sweater, stopping me in my tracks as I turn to him with a frown, his features a perfect match to my own.
"You better not be leaving with him," he tells me with a snarl. "Lyla you're fucking kidding yourself if you think he wants you for more than just sex."
I tip my chin up. "It's none of your business, Ethan, stay out of it."
"So that's it?" He calls out, right before I can make another move. "He what? Calls you pretty one and you've already got your legs open for him?"
"Ethan, that's not—"
"I guess if he's got a stick and a jersey you'll suck him off, right, Lyla?" He snaps, venom laced with every word, like he means them to the core. It shocks me right through, but I hold my ground, only recoiling into Jack slightly, who's now turned around to give Ethan a piece of his mind.
"I'd watch what you say, man," Jack frowns.
"Don't act like a hero, Hughes," Ethan taunts, bating him. "We all know you'll take home any puck bunny who throws them self at you."
Jack steps forward, body shielding mine, his hands in fists by his side like he's ready to throw the first punch. I place my hand over his bicep, watch him relax almost instantly. "It's okay, Jack, let's just go."
He backs off immediately, taking my hand in his for the second time and letting me take the lead in guiding us through the crowd of people. My heart races as I try to forget what Ethan had just said, and I guess Jack is right up there with me, because for most of the drive back to his apartment, he's completely silent, knuckles turning white as he grips his steering wheel for deer life.
I place my hand on his shoulder gently, trying to gain his attention. "Jack—"
"Who is that guy, Lyla?"
I'm surprised by the tone of his voice and how serious he is. I'd never really heard Jack be anything other than happy, or stupidly horny. I'd never seen him mad, and now I'm positive I never want to see him mad ever again.
I bow my head, chewing on the inside of my cheek. "Ethan, he's my ex."
"Is he always like that with you?"
"Like what?" I ask, frowning.
"Possessive," he says, immediately. "Controlling. Mean."
I swallow thickly, shaking my head as I avoid his gaze. "N-no. He's never had a reason to be."
Jack narrows his eyes. "What the hell does that mean?"
I glance at him, unsure, my eyebrows knitting together. "I've never had another boyfriend," but then I'm realising I've used a word that we don't associate with us, and I'm reeling it back in. "Not that you're my boyfriend, or anything, but you're my something and he doesn't really know how to handle other guys, you know—"
Jack grips my chin between his forefinger and thumb, turning me to him. He searches my eyes as he pull into a parking space that I'm assuming is his, but I'm not sure what he's searching for.
"I don't want to compete with him, Lyla," he tells me, his tone dark, more serious than ever before.
My breath hitches, because I'd never heard words like that out of him before. I shake my head furiously, whispering: "You don't have to compete with anybody."
My words light a fire in him, and suddenly he's guiding my lips toward his, his eyes fluttering closed as our mouths come so close to touching that I could do.
"Jack," I whisper, pressing my palms flat against his chest. "If we're going to do this, you can't do what you did to me again. I won't compete either. I need to know you're mine."
He nods in affirmation, but it's not enough.
"Say it, Jack," I beg, furrowing my eyebrows as our mouths graze and he traces the outline of my bottom lip with his thumb.
He grabs my hands, pulling me to him, guiding me so that I'm straddling his lap in the drivers side seat of his ridiculously priced truck.
"Jack," I whine, our lips moulding together but never closing into a real kiss. This was torture.
"Lyla," he groans, and the sound of my name falling from his lips knocks the wind out of me. "I'm yours, baby."
I make a noise that suspiciously sounds like a whimper, and then I'm kissing him, hard. His palm grips the back of my neck, his thumb in my hair as his other arm holds me as close as physically possible, keeping me planted firmly on his lap, forcing me to feel everything.
He's trying to be good, I know he is, because his hands don't roam no matter how much I can feel that he wants them to. Even when they twitch when I moan his name into his mouth. But I can feel him, and I know he's turned on, so much so that he's a rock hard force between my legs, and I'm throbbing for him.
So I roll my hips against his, causing a strained moan from the back to his throat that makes me sort of want to spread my legs as far as they can go, just so he'll bury himself deep within me and find out all the ways he can make me scream his name.
He's still trying to hold back, but I don't want him to hold back, I want him to claim every single inch of me as his.
"Jack," I pant, and stupidly I feel like a desperate little girl, begging for him, but I don't care. "S-stop holding back."
He groans, leaning forward into me. "If I let go, Lyla, I won't be able to stop. I'm going to ruin you."
I gasp. "Then ruin me."
His moan is lost in my mouth. "I'm going to fuck you so hard you forget your own name, pretty girl."