Jourdan Mathews has a secret, and she knows she needs to take this one to the grave.
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Her life was never complicated: a college student with a close family, good friends, and a plan for her future as a doctor. Had that night had never happened...
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Jourdan is avoiding me.
It started after that kiss in the kitchen, a kiss that has been on my mind since it happened. But I can't tell what's going through her mind, and I think that's part of what is frustrating me. The rest of that night she didn't speak to me, keeping a pointed distance and glaring at me whenever I spoke. In a strange way, I kind of enjoyed it. She's even hotter when she's pissed off, and even though I have no idea what goes on in that pretty little head of hers, I know that she's pissed because I'm right.
She is attracted to me. I felt it in the way she kissed me, the way her hands held onto my shoulders so tightly, in the way her hips rocked subtly against my hands, like they were aching for more. Aching for my fingers, or my tongue, or even my cock.
Speaking of which, my own attraction to her has more than doubled after that kiss. I feel a bit like a lion, whose got a taste of the best meat out there and won't stop until he has it all. That night, kissing her like that and listening to her moan softly into my mouth, I'd been harder than stone. Something that hadn't happened to me since high school when I first discovered how fun sex can be between two people who are enjoying each other.
After we stopped, I got the worst case of blue balls I'd had in a long fucking time. And her dark eyes staring into me the rest of the night only made things worse. That pain of no release had been with me since, settling in my back, like a knot that needed to be cracked.
Nonetheless, she won't admit her attraction, or that the kiss was more than 'a momentary lapse in judgement', and what's worse, she won't hang out with us so I've had no chance to get her alone again. Like a couple nights ago when Justin was hosting the screening of the newest episode of the Bachelorette. Normally, I know Jourdan would have been there.
She would've been squished right in between where Andee and Bex had been sitting, hogging the popcorn and making sarcastic comments about the events of the show. But Justin said she was sick, something I found hard to believe.
I spend the rest of the week in a bit of a daze, going through the motions of practice and school, trying to shake the feeling in my chest that I'd had since it happened. It's the same feeling I felt that night she fell asleep against me. That I'd felt earlier this past Monday with her, when I'd admitted to maybe wanting more sometimes.
This feeling would have me believe that I do want more. More with Jourdan. Whether it be sex or something else, I want to be close to her, want to feel her body against mine, listen to her laugh, and enjoy the smart ass things she always has to say.
But I can't because she doesn't fucking see me that way.
To make matters worse, I can barely sleep, because when I do I have the most vivid and intense dreams about her. Then wake up a sweaty mess with the sheets tangled at my feet and my dick swelling painfully against my boxers. Not only is my mind in a war with itself, my body aches too. A need for Jourdan growing in my lower spine that I'd never felt so acutely before.
