The World She Knew

Chapter 4

***five months after***

"Tutor me," he pleaded.

"No," I replied for the millionth time, "Look, I've got to go. My parents will be waiting for me to get back home, and it'll be dark soon."

"Don't go." He whispered, his eyes dancing with mirth.

"Jake," I scoffed, flattered by the sincerity in his eyes.

"Please, you are one of the girls I can tolerate in this school. Like a breath of fresh air." He added dramatically nudging his head towards the niners down the hall, there gazes turning back to their posters instantly.

"Just one more poster and we'll be done I promise, pretty pretty pretty please?" He looked at me his gaze full on.

I felt my cheeks burn and my body tremble. Oh the things his gaze did to me. We were sitting on the hallway floor painting some posters for the school's annual movie night. His chest inches from mine and his gaze locked on me. I swear, in that moment, it's like we were communicating on some deeper level. I had to break it.

"I-I," I stuttered, "Jake.."

"Come with me." He said.

"But people are watching." I yearned to take his outstretched hand. everything in my head was telling me no, do not do it. but I heard the word tumble out of my mouth before I could stop.

"Where." I breathed, all lightheartedness that seemed to have happened moments ago gone.

"Just come."

I placed my hand in his. He led me through the partially empty school hallway, his hands firm and sure. It felt immaculate. I squeezed his hand when we entered the room above the gym, where they kept score for games.

"Have you been here?" He asked quietly, too quiet.

"Listen Jake," I said with not enough power in my voice to sound believable, "we shouldn't be here. If someone found us..."

"No one comes up here. Trust me." He purred, slowly making his way towards me.

His hands crept to my hips, pulling me flush against him. I felt his hands mold to my waist, massaging in their wake. And I don't know what overcame me. I laced my fingers in his hair and pulled his head down towards mine.

"Hmmm," he groaned appreciatively.

And then I kissed him. Maybe it was the sound of his groan that made me do it. Or the way his eyes opened when I caressed my hands on his jaw.

He squeezed my waist then, I moaned in anticipation making me open my mouth a bit. Enough for his tongue to slide in and move. And boy could he. He pushed me up against the table and hoisted me on top. My hands slid to his back, strong and muscled. And then I moved my hands to his front side, feeling the lines of his body through his shirt, the lines in his abdomen, the v of of hips.

I don't know when, but I threw my head back to catch my breath, allowing him access to my neck. I felt his breath along my throat, him humming his appreciation, and I had to stop.

I gathered all the diginity and will I had left and pushed against his chest. Surprise was the only emotion on his face, that and a trace of anticipation of what I was going to do next.