"At first I thought maybe you wouldn't remember me," L'Wren murmured before shoving the bottom half of her face into a pink frosted-glass bong. She sat crosslegged on the floor, flicking her yellow Bic to light the bong and inhaling deeply as the bong water bubbled and churned. Throwing her head back, she paused to enjoy the hit before exhaling a thin stream of gray smoke. "But you seem like the type of boy who'd want to finish what he started," she added, her voice cracking.
She passed the bong and the lighter to Nate, who placed them clumsily in his lap. He'd been offered joints at parties dozens of times, but he wasn't a smoker, and maybe because he didn't inhale properly, he'd never really felt it. Still, he was willing to humor L'Wren.
In more ways than one.
"This is sweet stuff. A couple of hits and I'm going to be all over you," she gushed. "Pot makes me horny."
What doesn't?
Nate flicked the lighter and attempted a hit. He squeezed his eyes and mouth shut, trying to keep the smoke in as he coughed and sputtered. Jesus. He had no idea what a bong hit felt like—not inhaling was not an option. He exhaled and took another hit, determined not to look like such a putz this time. L'Wren watched him with a little smile on her face like she was so proud of her little pot-smoking prodigy she just wanted to squeeze him and pinch him and kiss him to bits.
Who doesn't?
"So." Nate placed the bong in the space between them, ever so careful not to tip it over onto the organic Caribbean sea kelp mat that covered most of the floor in Luke's room. Inexplicably, the entire bedroom had a sort of modern Caribbean theme, with sand-dune-colored walls, aqua-colored silk roman blinds, and bamboo furniture. Nate giggled softly to himself. What a dumb room.
"So, who were those girls you came in with?" L'Wren demanded, picking up where he'd left off. She reached up to adjust the ties on her dress, pushing her chest out and almost knocking the bong over with her boobs.
Girls? What girls?
Nate shrugged. "Just some friends." He grinned slyly at L'Wren's chest, his whole body buzzing. "Let's take your dress off," he added, like it was the most logical suggestion he'd ever made.
L'Wren grabbed the bong and took a long hit. She held the smoke in her mouth and then leaned toward Nate, grabbing the back of his neck and pressing her lips against his. A wave of pot smoke entered his esophagus along with her warm, slippery tongue. Awesome, Nate thought stonedly to himself. Fucking awesome.
He untied her dress and it fell to the floor, knocking over the bong and getting it and the floor all stinky and wet. She'd lied—she was wearing underwear, but it was so tiny it was barely there.
"See what you've been missing?" L'Wren whispered, unbuttoning his shirt. Outside the room a girl squealed and something scattered noisily on the tiled floor. Nate giggled again as L'Wren kissed him. Man, was this fun. It almost didn't matter what girl he was with. At least not when he was so very stoned and when her body was as hot as L'Wren's. There was nothing better right now than holding this sexy, nearly naked girl who probably didn't even know his last name or that he'd sucked his thumb and had a lisp until he was seven. It didn't matter that he couldn't even remember what college L'Wren went to or why she'd messed with the spelling of her name.
Or that he probably wouldn't remember any of this tomorrow?
YOU ARE READING
Gossip Girl: It Had To Be You
Teen Fiction'Welcome to New York City's Upper East Side, where my friends and I all live in huge, fabulous apartments and go to exclusive single-sex private schools. We aren't always the nicest people in the world, but we make up for it in looks and taste.' Ent...
