Chapter 13: The Surprise
The basement air was thick with the taste of him—laundry soap, cheap deodorant, and something warmer, uniquely Jordan. Their mouths moved together in a rhythm that was familiar now, but beneath her skin, everything felt new and electric. His hand was under her shirt, his palm hot against the small of her back, fingers splayed over her spine.
Riley broke the kiss. Her lips were swollen. She kept her forehead pressed to his, their breath mingling in the narrow space between them.
“I have that surprise,” she whispered. The words vibrated in her own throat, sounding braver than she felt.
Jordan pulled back just enough to look at her. His eyes were dark, pupils swallowing the hazel. “Yeah?”
She nodded. A curl of her hair stuck to his temple. Slowly, she took his right hand from her back and guided it up, over her ribs, until his rough palm was cupping her breast through her bra. He watched her, his breath catching. She held his hand there for a moment, feeling the weight of it, the pressure. Then she slid off the couch.
The worn carpet was rough against her knees. The position felt strangely formal, like kneeling in church. She looked up at him. He was staring down, his expression a mixture of confusion and dawning, intense understanding.
Headquarters erupted.
“She’s doing it! She’s initiating!” Joy trilled, her golden light flickering like a frantic strobe. She pushed a wave of warm confidence toward the console, but her hands were shaking. “This is agency! This is exploratory! Keep breathing, Riley, sweetie, keep breathing!”
“Gag reflex! Teeth! Saliva is a lubricant but it’s also a choking hazard! What if he thrusts? What if he loses control and hurts her trachea?” Fear shrieked, pulling up a horrific medical animation of a ruptured esophagus. His purple form vibrated violently.
Anger stood like a red monolith, arms crossed. “His jeans are too tight. He’s going to pop a button and put someone’s eye out. That’s it. This is how accidents happen.” But his gaze was fixed on Jordan’s face, analyzing for any sign of mockery or disrespect.
Sadness sat in her corner, a soft blue luminescence. “She wants to give him something,” she murmured. “She wants to see if she can make him feel good. It’s a lonely thing to want, to be the source of someone’s pleasure. What if it doesn’t work?”
On the floor, Riley swallowed. The theory was nothing like the reality. Jordan was just looking at her, his chest rising and falling quickly. She saw the bulge in his jeans, obvious and straining against the denim. A fresh, sharp pulse of heat went through her.
“Is this okay?” she asked, her voice barely audible.
“Fuck, Riley. Yes.” The words came out as a strained groan.
She reached for his belt buckle. Her fingers, usually deft, felt stupid and thick. The metal was cool. The click of the buckle releasing was absurdly loud in the quiet basement. She unbuttoned his jeans. The zipper’s rasp was worse. She hooked her fingers in the waistband of his jeans and his boxers and pulled them down just enough.
He sprang free, thick and already fully hard, the tip flushed a dark, ruddy color. She’d seen it before, but never like this, never so close, never with this intention. It looked different. Real. Veiny. A bead of clear fluid had gathered at the slit.
Her mind went blank for a second, wiped clean of all the articles, all the ridiculous advice.
Jordan didn’t move. He just watched her, his hands gripping the edges of the couch cushion, knuckles white.
Tentatively, she wrapped her fingers around the base. The skin was hot, almost feverish, and softer than she expected. She gave an experimental pump. He hissed, his hips giving a tiny, involuntary jerk.
“Sorry,” he mumbled.
“S’okay,” she whispered. She leaned forward, her hair falling around her face like a curtain. The smell was muskier here, salty and intimate. She opened her mouth, hesitated, then let her tongue dart out to taste the bead of wetness at the tip. It was slick, slightly bitter.
A full-body shudder went through him. The reaction sent a corresponding jolt through her own nerves. She parted her lips wider and took just the head into her mouth.
The sensation was bizarre. Foreign. The smooth, firm crown against her tongue, the intimate heat. She relaxed her jaw, letting her saliva pool, and slid her mouth down a little further. Her lips stretched. She used her hand to guide him, moving her mouth up and down on the first few inches. It was awkward. She felt her teeth graze him and he flinched.
“Teeth, teeth, TEETH!” Fear wailed, covering his eyes.
“Lightly, Riley, just the lips, use your tongue,” Joy instructed, her voice a high-pitched thread of focus.
Riley adjusted, concentrating on keeping her jaw soft, on using her tongue to press along the underside as she moved. The rhythm found a clumsy beat. Up, down. Her own breathing was loud in her ears, punctuated by wet, sucking sounds that should have embarrassed her but instead just fed the heat coiling in her own belly.
She looked up. Jordan’s head was thrown back against the couch, his throat working. A strangled sound escaped him. “God…