Those LA Boys (Markson)
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"Mind if I join you?" I jumped slightly and turned around to find Jackson standing there without a shirt on. He only carried a towel.
"Sure."
I returned my gaze on the pool so I wouldn't stare at his lean and nicely tanned body. Not that I was looking, because I wasn't. But if I did happen to do that I'd- Okay I'm sure you get it.
"What are you reading?"
"Huh?" I looked at him.
He chuckled, "The book in your hands what is it?"
"Oh its Shakespeare."
"Hmm."
"Its stupid I know."
He shook his head, "Its not what I expected from an LA boy. You've captured my interest."
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"What do you want?" I snap, slamming my locker shut. His casual smirk, messy dark hair, tan skin, strong arms, eerie storm-grey eyes... the list could go on of things I notice- that I shouldn't notice- about him. "Oh, I want a lot of things." He inspects a speck of dirt on his arm. "I'm sure you've heard the news?" His eyes flicker back up to meet mine. Does he know? No. He can't. So I roll my eyes. He can't know that I know, that I would do anything to be the first one he tells. "You'll have to be more specific." I mutter, trying to look casual as I inspect my nails. "Well, it involves a certain title of the swim team," He offers. I shrug. "So you got captain. That's cool. And what do I have to do with that?" He narrows his eyes, trying to read my expression. Unfortunately for him, I have mastered the art of hiding my emotions. "This is what I wanted to talk to you about. During English," He fiddles with his sweater sleeve. "I recall you trying to talk to me," I frown. "Well, I..." He swallows, seeming... nervous? "I'm not doing too great... subject wise. And if I don't pick up my ass soon, I might be forced to quit." He rubbed the back of his neck, making his shirtsleeve slide up his arm to reveal a strong bicep. Not that I notice. I narrow my eyes. "And what do I get back in return?" I cross my arms. I'm going to be late for the bus if we don't hurry. He studies my face. "Name your price." He mirrored my position. I sigh. Money... but I don't need it. Popularity... but I don't want it. I meet his gaze steadily. He lifts his chin, the tiniest bit, but it doesn't intimidate me. I square my shoulders and stand up straight. He's only just taller than me. "Stop pretending to be perfect." All rights reserved. Cover art by me :) but will probably be redone soon
[MATURE CONTENT] "He can't make your body feel the way I can," he breathed, proving his point with a simple flick of his finger as I almost came right then and there. I forced myself to say, "I love him." "No, you don't," he said, easily. "And even if you were with him, you wouldn't be able to go a day without my touch." "You're wrong." He rammed his finger up into me. I was forced to hold onto him to keep steady, my chest heaving against his as I desperately tried to control myself. Those dark eyes stared into my own with amusement, eyebrow cocking as if asking, 'you sure about that?' His lips brushed mine, and I had to resist the temptation to push mine into his. Then they were at my ear, warm and hot and a reminder to the excruciating pleasure he could make me feel with just his mouth. "Now let's show that lover boy of yours just what it sounds like to make you come undone."
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