Bad Liar: teen wolf

Chapter 3: falling for the deputy

TW- swearing, slight sexual content, intoxication,

Song: light me up
Artist: Ingrid Michaelson

Willow's pov:

We stay at Derek's apartment for a few more hours; just laughing, talking and doing a bit of drinking together. Peter left earlier because he didn't want to deal with anything important tonight— so god knows what he's doing currently. But I finally feel like im getting my life back on track (well, in Beacon Hills anyway). Derek and I are rebounding after... everything. And I still feel that strange magnetic connection to Jordan.

"So, how did you meet our hellhound?" Derek asks, laughing. His jokes aren't funny, like what even is a hellhound? I snort, sending the gulp of Bacardi that I just swallowed to shoot up and out of my nose causing a burning effect to erupt in my face. But I don't really notice nor pay attention to the panic-stricken look written all over Jordan's face.
"What even is a- a what? Hell... hell what?" I wipe the residue from my nose and mouth with my sleeve. My smile doubles in size when I try to pour another glass, but instead fall drunkly across his lap... Jordan's lap. We both freeze, but I see it in his eyes the second we touched each other again: the light buzz, the tingle, the pulling feeling. As if I need him near me all the time, I grin again, grabbing his jaw and harshly pushing his lips against mine. He hastily pulls me to sit up in his lap, my legs straddling him.
"Let's go, now." He picks me up as I wrap my legs tightly around his waist, we're still kissing.

His tongue is still down my throat as he calls for a taxi, and still there again when said taxi drops us off at a small house on an empty neighbourhood street. All of the streetlights work and are glowing, illuminating a bright-white shade onto us— silhouetting our bodies onto the concrete sidewalk.

Jordan throws the driver ten dollars, before they drive away, back to the main road. We run up to the house and Jordan scrambles to shove the key into the lock. Once he does, he pushes the thick wooden door open and pulls me in by the elbow. He pushes me back into the door as it slams shut behind me; he shoves his body back against mine, grinding the bulge in his trousers against the growing heat between my legs.
"I-" I go to say something, but I can't find the words to speak or communicate my feelings with him, no matter how much I want to.
His face is suddenly against my neck, I can feel his heavy breathing making my entire body tingle again.
"Go on..." he whispers, his hands dancing across my body; slowly getting lower, and lower and lower. They creep down my chest to my ribcage and across my covered midriff and then even lower. My breathing stops completely as I hold my breath, too confused to say anything. Why am I this attracted to him? Why does he feel so special to me? Why do I feel so fucking attached to him? I can't ever let him go, not now not ever.

I shove him through the hallway and up the stairs, his house is so pretty but I don't let that distract me from him, from us. Once we get to his room, he closes the door and I tuck my hands into his shirt: I unbutton it and throw it onto the floor. I see the lust in his eyes when he removes my shirt before shoving me onto his mattress. I bounce, then he climbs on top of me. His smirk like the Cheshire Cat— not sinister but with desire. I know how he's feeling, I feel the same way...

——————————————

"Oh, fuck!"
"Jordan..." her breathing was ragged and uneven as he was fucking her, hard.
Their bodies were mingled and spread across the double bed as they rolled around all night, different positions, different emotions— for the both of them.

He suddenly stopped, they were on their third or fourth round. He dropped his head and she gazed up at him with instant concern and worry.
"Hey, look at me..." her comforting voice made him want to tell her everything, made him want to spill all his secrets. None the less, he knew he couldn't say a thing. No matter what he felt for her: all of the intense, sudden, heart-wrenching feelings, he couldn't betray Derek and the rest of the pack— he also didn't want to get her involved with all of this crap. He wants to protect her... at all costs... whatever it takes. But she was right there. She was a compelling influence, he felt a strong need to tell her about everything: himself, his other side, his family... everything.