First Dance (3 page)

He throws his head back and laughs.

“Fine, never mind!” I flush. “It’s a stupid
question. Forget I asked.”

“Ok, no, sorry,” he struggles to contain his
snickers, “it’s a serious question and I should give it a serious
answer.” He smiles at me reassuringly, trying to make me feel less
sheepish about the whole thing. “It depends.”

“On what?”

“A lot of factors. The girl, positions,
energy level, how turned on you are, shit like that,” he
shrugs.

“But, you can do it a lot, right?” I wonder.
“Because you always seem to be doing it and you don’t seem to ever
get tired.”

“Yeah, kid, I can do it a lot,” he smirks and
gives me a little wink, “but even I get tired sometimes.”

I have to smile at this admission. He’s
usually like Superman to me, the ability to charm the pants off of
any girl and fuck like some kind of mythical sex god, at least
according to what I’ve heard. James has quite the rep at our
school—in our whole town—and his penis seems to be worth ten times
its weight in gold to the women around here. I’m kind of surprised
to hear him admit that he can get tired like a mortal man.

“What?” He smiles when he sees me
grinning.

“Nothing,” I giggle.

“What?” He says with a mischievous grin as he
narrows his eyes at me. He sits up and crawls on the couch towards
me like a lion stalking his prey. He wants to pounce and he’s
daring me to wind him up so he can jump at me.

“I just think it’s funny that some bitchy
cheerleader totally wore out James Laird, world-class sexpert,” I
tease.

He lunges onto me and sits on my legs,
pinning me down to the couch as he mercilessly tickles me. I’m
trying my best to be quiet, but I’m gasping for air through hushed
laughs as I try to grab onto his hands. He catches both my little
wrists and pins my hands above my head. I pretend to struggle, but
I’m still laughing too hard.

“I’m sorry, what was that you were saying?”
He grins, raising an eyebrow.

“Oh, the whole thing about how Kelsey Vaughn
was too much for you?” I defiantly tease.

He lays into me again, his hands grabbing at
my sides and tickling my ribs until I’m nearly crying with
laughter.

“You better watch yourself, little girl,” he
playfully growls, “or else I’ll tear off these pants and show you
just how exhausting a good fuck can be.”

“James!” I squeal. He’s always making threats
like this and I’m always all pink cheeks and giggles when I try to
think of how to reply.

He lets go of my wrists and raises an eyebrow
at me. “Anything else you wanted to add?”

I know he’s going to tickle the crap out of
me, but I can’t resist. “If you did rip my clothes off, you’d
probably pass out on top of me before you could even get started.
Maybe you’re losing your stamina, buddy.”

He dives onto me, using his weight to
completely pin me to the couch. He’s relentless, making sure to hit
every ticklish zone. He tickles me like this whenever I tease him,
so he knows all my most ticklish spots and he’s going after every
one of them right now.

I’m gasping for air between laughs and trying
my best to swat his hands away as he continues. I start raising my
hips in hopes that I can buck him off me, but he’s so much bigger
than me that he barely moves.

He finally stops and looks at me with a big,
cocky grin. He’s won this round and he knows it.

I try to buck him off again and he raises an
eyebrow and winks at me. “You keep moving those hips like that and
I might forget you’re my best friend.”

“You couldn’t even get it up right now!” I
tease, knowing that another tickle attack could be coming.

“Wanna bet?” He says with a devilish smile as
he grabs my hand and puts it against his crotch.

“Aaah!” I gasp and start cracking up. “Are
you hard right now, dude?!”

“Nope, I’m that big even when I’m soft,” he
beams. “Why do you ask, Lola? Do you want me to get hard right
now?” He whispers with exaggerated sensuality.

“No!” I giggle. My face is probably
completely flushed from laughing and now this. “Besides, I’m not
exactly the most erotic sight at the moment, so you’d probably have
some trouble getting there.”

“Oh, I don’t know,” he grins, cocking his
head to the side and looking me up and down. I feel my heart
flutter as his eyes scan my body. “I can see this,” he says,
tracing his finger around my bellybutton from where my shirt rode
up when he was tickling me. “Those are looking just lovely, too,”
he nods, motioning to my breasts. “That’s probably enough to get me
going for another round.”

I cover my face and laugh. The prospect of
James finding my body attractive, of James getting aroused in such
close proximity to me … it makes me feel all fluttery and shy.

When I open my eyes, he’s looking down at me
and smiling—but not the naughty little smile of before, a new,
warm, sweet smile. I’m captivated by his hazel eyes and how they
look greener in the low light of the basement. A few tendrils of
his hair have come loose and they’re dangling in front of his face
in a way that’s messy and sexy like one of those male models. I
guess I can sort of see why all the girls go so crazy for him.

“Mmm, I’m tired, Lo,” he sighs and lowers
himself onto me until he’s lying on top of me.

His nose brushes against my neck and his
breath is warm against my skin. I’ve never had a boyfriend, I’ve
only ever kissed two people, but the sensation of having a boy on
top of me like this makes my heart speed up. He’s so firm and toned
and I can feel his abs against me. My arms seem to move up to his
shoulders of their own volition and my legs instinctively part
until they’re on either side of his body. I’m surprised with how
much I’m enjoying the feeling of his body against me like this,
especially because this isn’t actually in a sexual context. We’re
just friends. He’s just flopped onto me like this because he’s
tired, not because he has some subconscious desire to be close to
me … right?

As I consider this, I’m also forced to
confront the fact that, maybe just maybe, it’s me who has the
subconscious desire. I know that everyone thinks James is hot shit
and, while I’ve always thought of him as more of a big-brother
type, I can’t deny that I’ve always been curious about the epic
tales of his sexual prowess I’ve heard from the older girls.

I feel all warm and fuzzy when he leans over
me and lovingly presses his forehead to mine. The tips of our noses
touch and it feels sweet and intimate. For a second, I think he’s
going to kiss me and I’m surprised at how much I secretly wish he
would. He smells nice, he’s warm and I bet his lips are soft. I’m
not sure how this runaway train of lustful thoughts started, but
it’s like my view of him is shifting and I’m starting to see why
he’s so popular with the ladies.

“I wish I could stay here,” he whispers,
rotating me a little so he can cuddle me in his arms as we both
recline on the couch. “We haven’t done that in a while.”

“I think once you became the Hugh Hefner of
the school, my mom felt a little weird about letting you spend the
night in my room,” I smirk.

“Yeah, I get her logic,” he relents, “but
sometimes I miss the way we used to put sleeping bags on the floor
and pass out playing Sega.”

“I miss that too,” I smile and curl into him.
“I always have the most fun when I’m with you.

“Same here,” he sweetly replies, giving me
another one of those adoring looks that make me want to grab him
and kiss him like something out of a movie.

For a moment, we just look at each other. My
eyes scan his handsome face, from his square jaw to his high
cheekbones to his straight nose to his pouty lips and finally into
those beautiful hazel eyes. He reaches out and caresses my cheek,
running his thumb over my bottom lip. I really, really, really want
to kiss him right now and that thought thoroughly freaks me out. I
shouldn’t want to kiss him. He’s my best friend. We used to play
LEGO together in my back yard.

“Well, kid, it’s past three,” he says,
looking at the clock on the wall. “I should probably let you get
some sleep before your mom finds us both passed out down here in
the morning.”

I smile and nod. “You still want to hang out
tomorrow?”

“For sure,” he warmly replies. “Just call me
when you’re awake and I can come over.”

“Ok,” I say. There’s a slight pinch of
longing in my voice. I really do wish James could sleep over
tonight and I really do miss the two-person slumber parties we had
when we were kids. It’s a bummer that growing up has put an end to
nice little activities like that.

I get up and walk him to the door and he hugs
me, but his arms hold me tighter around my waist and his nose
nuzzles into my neck. When we part, he kisses my cheek, which he’s
done several times before, but this kiss lands very near to the
corner of my mouth. For a split second, I think about turning my
head just an inch or two and kissing him for real, but I quickly
dismiss it. James is my friend. F-R-I-E-N-D! Kissing would make
shit get too real.

I close the door and go back up to my
bedroom. I crash back onto my bed and take a deep breath. My mind
is racing with thoughts of James, questions of morality, confusion
and vivid memories of the contentment I felt when he was cuddling
with me. While my head might be spinning, my body feels nice and
relaxed and I’m a little surprised by how easily I fall asleep that
night.

James and I hang out all weekend and we’re
noticeably more affectionate that normal, but by Sunday, we’re back
in our comfort zone as best friends. I find that I still think
about his body against me sometimes, particularly right before I
got to bed, but with each passing evening, I’m better able to
quarantine it off in my mind.

I’m zoning out in Algebra and I’m so
incredibly bored. Math is not my best subject, maybe because you
can’t charm your way out of an equation the way you can with an
English paper or a Debate presentation. I need to get up and
stretch my legs, so I borrow the bathroom pass and make a few laps
around the school to clear my head and get some air.

I walk past Lola’s locker and I can’t help
but think about the other night on the couch in her basement. I
felt this weird surge of happiness that sort of spread out from my
chest. When I was holding her in my arms on the couch, I couldn’t
stop looking at those sexy lips of hers and thinking about what it
would feel like to kiss them. I always thought Lola was pretty, but
after that night, I saw that she’s more than just pretty, she’s
beautiful. Those lips, man. I can’t fuckin’ believe how much I’d
like to kiss those perfect lips.

I turn to pass through the Foreign Languages
hallway and who do I spot but Miss Luscious Lips herself.

“Hey, kid,” I smile as I jog over to her and
throw my arms around her. I’m always pretty touchy-feely with her,
but I like it even more now.

“Hey,” she says, sounding dejected.

“What’s wrong?” I ask, tilting her chin up so
she has to look at me.

“Your stupid fake girlfriend yelled at me,”
she frowns.

“What?” I’m angry already. Nobody yells at
Lola on my watch.

“I was at my locker and Kelsey and her stupid
bitch sidekicks came up to me and started talking shit. She said
you only danced with me because you felt sorry for me, since you
knew Marshall only asked me to the dance to try to get to third
base with me. She said you thought I was pathetic and you told her
you didn’t want to hang out with me anymore.”

“Aw, babe, you know that’s not true, right?”
I say wrapping my arms around her and pulling her into my chest. “I
always want to hang out with you, Lo, and I’d never think you were
pathetic. I think you’re a fuckin’ treasure, kid. I think you’re
better than every girl in this school—every girl in this whole
town.”

“Thanks,” she says. “I know you didn’t say
those things, but she was just so evil about it, all smug and shit.
I wanted to call her on it, to make some snappy comment about her
blowing you in the locker room, but I didn’t want to start any shit
for you, so I just closed my locker and went off to class.”

I hate seeing her feeling down like this. I
hate that some girl I’ve fucked has made her feel like this. Girls
have been pissed of at me before and said some pretty fucked up
shit, but I’m livid that Kelsey would try to tell Lola such
lies.

“Kelsey’s pissed off because she knows I like
you more than her,” I smile, trying to be warm and reassuring.
“She’s jealous of you because I’d rather spend a night chilling out
on your couch than fucking her.”

Lola cracks a smile and I press my forehead
against hers. I can’t help but think about how easy it would be to
kiss her right now—not a high-production, sloppy tongue kiss, but a
sweet little peck on the lips. She might freak out if I do, though,
so I hold back.

“I wish you’d stop hanging out with her,” she
sighs as she wraps her arms around me. “She’s Hitler, James. She’s
a bitch and you shouldn’t give her the privilege of banging
you.”

I snicker and rest my chin on the top of her
head. Lola’s right, though. I shouldn’t hang out with Kelsey
anymore. She’s acting like I’m her boyfriend, even though I’ve made
it pretty clear that we’re just fucking, and she’s letting her
bullshit insecurities make her crazy enough to lash out at the
person I care about most. I’m definitely not into that shit.

“I’ll take care of it,” I say, taking her
face in my hands and planting a big kiss on her forehead. She
giggles and I give her a warm smile. “Go back to class, young
lady!”

“Alright, Mr. Laird,” she rolls her eyes.

“I’m coming over tonight … and don’t let that
bitch get you down, Lo,” I say before I give her a wink and turn to
go back to my stupid math class.