Betty x Jughead || Smut

Chapter 2

Chapter 2

"Shit!"

She sat up beside him in the narrow cot as he opened his eyes. For a moment, Jughead was unsure if last night had been a dream or had been real, but here was Betty Cooper, in the flesh, and in his bed. God, it was surreal sleeping beside her. He had wanted to stay awake the entire night, hoping to remember everything-what she smelled like, felt like, breathed like beside him. The writer inside him wanted to take notes so that he could record it all when he woke up so that he could never forget this moment, just in case it never came again. But he'd been so at peace to have her there with him that he had fallen asleep minutes after they'd settled in together.

"I don't think I've ever heard you cuss before," he said, sitting up, too.

She giggled as she rubbed her hands over her face. "I'm not as perfect as you think, Juggie," she said. "I've got to get home. I didn't mean to fall asleep."

"But I'm glad you did," he said. "It was . . . nice." Great use of all the adjectives in your vernacular, Jug. He thought to himself. For a wordsmith, he had a hard time coming up with something that would even come close to how amazing it felt to have her soft, sweet-smelling body snuggled against him all night.

The rising sun streamed through the wooden slats that covered the windows. Causing her fair skin had a glow about it. Her hair was loose, brushing her shoulders, the strands of it golden in the sunlight. God, she was so unreally beautiful.

During the night, her shirt had twisted around her body, coming to rest halfway up her back. Just as always, he longed to touch her, and after reminding himself that he now could, his finger trailed up her slender spine, from the curve in her lower back, all the way up to her shoulder blades. She closed her eyes and sighed as he caressed the nape of her neck, his fingertips pressing lightly against the tense muscles there. She placed her hand over his and turned to look at him. He sat up, too, and drew her closer. Her lips were warm and yielding.

She moved, and he was afraid it was to get up and leave, but no, Betty Cooper surprised him by climbing onto his lap. Her knees straddled his hips, and he was instantly hard. So hard that it hurt. For a brief moment, he was embarrassed, since he always had to hide his desire for her, but Betty was the aggressor here. She wanted him, almost as much as he wanted her. Most people would be shocked, but not Jughead. The town saw Betty as the sweet, innocent girl next door, but not. Jughead. Ever the observer, he was one of the few people in Riverdale that knew who she really was. Betty Cooper never backed down from what she wanted, and miraculously, right now, she wanted him.

Her fingers were in his hair, her tongue in his mouth. His hands moved over her, up her slim waist, to her collarbone, where they hovered, wanting to touch more, but unsure. He wanted to do more than just touch her. He wanted to be inside her. But it was too soon.

At least for now, he wanted to see what she looked like, really looked like. With trembling fingers, he undid the buttons of her top and pushed the loose fabric aside. Wanting to be able to really appreciate the view, he pulled back and let his eyes roam over her. She had on a white tank top beneath her shirt, but the material was thin and almost sheer. He could see the outline of her pink bra, and the tops of her breasts were pressed up, overflowing from the low collar of her tank.

Intently, she watched his hand as it reached out to touch her, but before he could make contact, her cell phone's alarm blared, jarring them both from their lust-filled interaction.

"Shit!" she yelled again. "I should have left already, but you distracted me." She paused to smile, but then turned serious again. "My mom is going to kill me." She pulled away from him and got out of bed. She tore around the small room, looking for her sweater, shoved her arms into the holes, buttoned it all wrong.