Call Me A Liar [Book 1] (Justin Bieber Love Story / Fan Fiction)

26

The weeks go on this way until the beginning of July.

Justin and I prioritize fucking each other over absolutely everything else because quite frankly, nothing else really matters. Things that felt important before no longer feel that way, but we're too blinded by the excitement of it all to care.

It's so easy sneaking around. Birdie is preoccupied with Josh, but she makes for a great excuse when I have to tell my parents where I'm going. And because my parents and her parents no longer speak, there's no one to say that I'm not actually at Birdie's.

Well, except for Patrick. But he's too busy hanging out with his friends to notice I'm not with Birdie.

Justin and I have been in our own blissfully ignorant little bubble together. It's nice to be in one of my own, for a change.

Between the quick, rushed encounters amidst boxing practice that take place in the cleaning closet or the longer, more drawn out intimacies during late nights, I'm not sure what I like more.

I just know I like it all more than I expected to, and I know he feels the same.

It's Fourth of July weekend before we know it. Justin's wrists are tied above his head to the bed's headboard he often forces me to hold onto. His upper body is bare— I was sure to discard his shirt several minutes ago. His legs remain clothed by a pair of unzipped and unbuttoned jeans, but I know it won't last that way much longer.

It's nearly impossible to ignore his pointed stare as I stand at the end of the bed, slowly and carefully removing articles of clothing that I want to. His arms somehow look more toned above his head this way, but I try my best to ignore those too. If I cave this early, it'll be no fun for either of us.

Well, maybe not entirely.

We collectively decided it was his turn to be under my control, though I'm not certain how I was going to maintain it the same way he does. This came about on Tuesday evening, the last time we saw each other, after a couple of hours of intense sex on his couch. I said one of these days, I'd be the one to make him come first. He said he'd like to see me try.

That's what brings us here on this Friday night, sexual tension coating every inch of the room we're in although we had only seen each other three days ago.

Three days feels like a month when it comes to Justin.

"Jane," he finally breathes out, fidgeting just slightly on the bed while trying to remain unbothered by the fact that I've made it down to just my bra and underwear.

I carefully picked out ones that I thought he would like, ones he hasn't seen before. By his reaction, I'm certain I made the right choice.

"Yeah?" I reply almost carelessly, resting one knee on the end of the soft mattress.

Our eyes finally connect, and I suddenly want to back out. The absolute ferocity from not being able to touch me held by his gaze almost knocks me flat on my back. I've truly never seen him so insatiable before.

I'm slow as I crawl over his half-sitting up body, certain not to touch him at all. He's confident as he watches me, not daring to break eye contact for anything at all. Even when I press my lips against his but not hard enough to kiss him, he's still in a daze while he looks at me.

"You okay?" I whisper mockingly, my mouth hovering over his.

"Hm," he hums, the smallest yet somehow most confident smirk finding his lips. "Never better."

I can't help myself from giving him an open-mouthed kiss for a short few seconds before pulling my face away completely.

"Good," I respond, leaning over him to ensure that my restraint is tight enough against his wrists.