Chapter 6: Flashback
The last fiery sliver of sun bled through Jake’s dorm window, painting the rumpled sheets and scattered clothes in molten gold. Lily lay sprawled across his chest, her breathing soft and even, a few strands of vibrant red hair clinging to her damp temple. Jake traced slow circles on the smooth skin of her bare back, his other hand idly cupping the warm, impossibly soft curve of her breast. He loved the weight of it in his palm, the way her nipple hardened instinctively against his touch even in sleep, the faint scent of her skin – vanilla and Lily and something uniquely her – mingling with the lingering musk of their sweat in the cooling air.
His gaze drifted past her shoulder, landing on a crumpled pair of denim shorts abandoned on the floor near the door. A memory, sharp and sudden, pierced the post-coital haze.
It was that damn skirt.
Not even a skirt, really. More like frayed denim shorts so short they were practically an afterthought. He’d been trudging across the quad after a brutal practice, head down, muscles screaming, when a flash of pale thigh and a mesmerizing, perfectly rounded shape beneath faded blue denim stopped him dead. She was bending over a malfunctioning vending machine, frustration clear in the set of her shoulders, oblivious to the effect she was having. That ass. It was like gravity itself bent around it, drawing his eyes, his breath, his entire stupid teenage libido. He’d stood there, rooted, sweat cooling on his neck, heart hammering against his ribs with a force that rivaled any tackle. He'd never seen anything so… inviting. So present.
Then she’d straightened up, turned, and her fiery hair caught the sun. Her face was flushed, eyes wide and startled emerald green finding his. Not angry, just… surprised. And maybe a little shy? He’d stammered something incoherent about the machine being a piece of junk, his eyes flicking helplessly back to where that incredible curve disappeared into the tiny denim hem, then snapping guiltily back to her face. She’d offered a tentative smile, a dimple appearing in one cheek. "Tell me about it. My Twix bar is currently plotting world domination from behind the glass." Her voice, light and slightly breathless, sealed it. He was sunk.
That first touch came weeks later, after awkward coffees and shared study sessions where he’d struggled to focus on anything but the way her sweater stretched across her chest. They were walking back from a late movie, the air crisp, campus quiet. He’d finally gathered the courage, his hand brushing hers, then sliding tentatively around her waist. She’d leaned into him, her head finding the space just below his shoulder. The simple contact was electric. He remembered the sheer, terrifying leap of faith as he let his hand drift higher, skimming her ribs, the anticipation tightening his throat. Then, the first tentative brush of his fingertips against the soft, impossibly yielding swell of her breast through her top. Not grabbing, just… touching. Feeling the warmth, the life radiating from her.
He remembered the hitch in her breath, the way she’d stopped walking, turning fully towards him in the dim streetlight. Her eyes were huge, searching his face. Not fear, but something else – surprise, anticipation mirroring his own? He’d cupped her fully then, his large hand easily spanning the generous curve, feeling the firm peak of her nipple press against his palm. The sensation had been staggering. Not just soft, but alive. A connection that went straight to his core, bypassing thought, flooding him with a possessiveness and tenderness so intense it was dizzying. He’d felt her shiver against him, a tiny sound escaping her lips. It wasn't just lust, though that was there, scorching and undeniable. It was the feeling of finding something vital he hadn't even known he was missing. Holding her like that, feeling the life pulse beneath his fingers… it made him feel vibrantly, completely alive in a way he’d never experienced.
Lily stirred against him now, a soft murmur escaping her lips as she nuzzled his chest. Her leg slid between his, seeking warmth. The movement shifted her breast more fully into his hand, the soft flesh yielding perfectly to his touch. He sighed, a deep, contented sound that rumbled through his chest. He dipped his head, breathing in the scent of her hair, his thumb brushing rhythmically over her nipple, feeling it bead instantly beneath the pad.
"Mmm," she hummed, her sleepy voice thick. "Still awake?"
"Just remembering," he murmured against her temple, his voice rough with lingering arousal and profound contentment. His hand squeezed gently, possessively. "That first time I got my hands on these."
She tilted her head back, blinking up at him, her green eyes still hazy with sleep but a knowing smile playing on her lips. She covered his hand with hers, pressing it more firmly against her breast. "Under that old oak tree by the library," she whispered. "You looked terrified."
"I was terrified," he admitted, a low chuckle vibrating against her. "Thought you might knee me." He leaned down, capturing her lips in a slow, deep kiss filled with the echoes of that initial discovery and the comfortable, blazing familiarity of now. He tasted coffee and sleep and Lily. "Best risk I ever took."
She smiled against his mouth, her hand sliding down his stomach, her intention clear. "Still terrified?" Her fingers traced the defined ridges of his abs, lower.
He groaned, rolling her gently beneath him, the golden light gilding her skin, catching the fire in her hair. The memory faded, replaced by the overwhelming reality of her body beneath him, soft and warm and entirely his. He dipped his head, taking a pebbled nipple into his mouth, swirling his tongue, savoring her gasp. "Nope," he breathed, lifting his head to meet her eyes. His hand slid down the familiar, beloved curve of her hip, over the swell of her ass, squeezing firmly, possessively. Just like the first time he’d seen it, but infinitely better. "Just hungry." He lowered his lips to hers again, a promise conveyed in the heat of his kiss, his body already hardening against her thigh. "Very, very hungry." The dorm room, filled with the fading sunset and the sound of their mingled breathing, felt like the only world that mattered. Later. There would always be later.