Chapter 21: Feels Good

Whatever my parents have to tell me, I, in absolutely no way, want to know.

Today's Sunday, which is when they're supposed to tell me whatever it is they're supposed to tell me, and I am sneaking past their bedroom door to go downstairs and leave.

When I came back downstairs from my nap yesterday--which was at around noon--they were tense. Uncomfortable.

Like they had something to hide.

Which they do, but they could be more subtle about because, come on, they're completely terrible at hiding things.

If I wasn't so worried about what they wanted to tell me, I'd be ashamed.

I press my ear to their door to pick up on the muffled voices.

"We're going to go tell her now, Mandy. We can't wait any longer. She needs to know. We promised--"

"That we would tell her when she turned eighteen, I know," she interrupts. "But--"

"She deserves to know, Mandy."

Silence, followed by a sigh.

"Alright. Let's do this."

Rustling comes from behind the door, and my eyes widen before I jump away from the door and rush down the stairs.

I hear the door open and then footsteps above my head, heading in the direction of my room.

My eyes scan the living room quickly as I search my brain for a plan.

My eyes widen as I grab a piece of paper off the TV stand and quickly scribble a note to my parents with a pen I found on the floor.

Fuck me. Where the hell am I supposed to go?

I feel my phone vibrate in the back pocket of my jean shorts, and I grab it to see a text from Autumn.

Who lives with Aaron!

Yes, yes, thank you, God.

I drop to my hands and knees to look under the couch, hoping I left a pair of my shoes there.

My eyes land on the black slip-on Vans Gracie threw at me, and I reach for them, my hand closing around the both of them when footsteps start to descend the stairs.

"Cass?"

Fuck.

I quickly put the shoes on--with regular socks instead of no-shows, cringe--and grab my house keys from the coffee table, running towards my door.

I open it, enough to the point where I can just barely slip through, close it softly behind me, and then I make a run for Aaron's front door, hoping my parents don't choose to look out a window.

There's only one car in the driveway, and I hope it's Aaron's, because I'm not looking to converse with parents right now.

I pound on the door, practically vibrating where I stand, and when it opens and a groggy Aaron--complete with messy bed head and a sleepy look in his eyes, along with his bare chest and sweatpants hanging low on his hips--comes into view, I hear my front door open.

I jump onto Aaron, causing him to fall on his back with his arm wrapped around my waist as I straddle him.

He looks up at me, eyes wide with surprise, no longer looking the slightest bit asleep, and his eyes slowly travel down my face and to my shoulders, and then my boobs--which is when I remember I'm wearing a tank top--thank God I'm wearing a bra--and then they move down to my bare legs.

Heat rises in me, rushing through my veins, and I feel my face--along with my chest--grow warmer, and I knew they're turning red.

Aaron swallows as he slowly looks back up my body and meets my eyes. "Hey, Cassie," he says, his voice sounding strangled, like he's having trouble breathing.

"Hi," I say softly, my face and chest still warm.

I hear a car start, and I leap off of Aaron to sneakily peek through his living room window, trying to catch a glimpse of my driveway.

I see a car pull out of my driveway, and I breathe a sigh of relief. I turn around and jump slightly because Aaron his right there, standing behind me, his hands twitching by his sides, like he wants to reach out and touch me.

He clears his throat and takes steps away from me to close the door and then he comes back to stand an arms length away from me, reaching one hand up to scratch the back of his neck.

We're silent for a couple of seconds, just staring at one another, before I make the decision to speak. "Thanks for letting me in."

At this, he chuckles. "Kind of hard not to, considering you assaulted me."

I laugh and he smirks at me. "You're such a jackass."

It goes silent again and this time, I reach up to my neck to relieve a itch.

That motion, however, causes my tank top to ride up, showing a bit of my stomach and just the slightest hint of my belly button.

Aaron's eyes drop to my exposed skin, darkening with an emotion I've seen sometimes when he's stared at me, and I quickly lower my arm, clearing my throat.

"Where's Autumn?"

He pouts. "So you come over here not for me, but for my sister? Wow."

I roll my eyes. "Oh, shut it. It's not my fault I like her better than you."

He gasps dramatically and places a hand over his heart, an offended look on his face. "Ouch. That hurt, Cassie."

I shrug and move past him up to start up his stairs, but I freeze when his hands wrap around my waist and pull me against him.

He tenses up for a couple of seconds before he relaxes and slowly lowers his head, his warm breath brushing over the right side of my neck as he places his nose on my shoulder.

I feel him breathe in deeply, his hands tightening--though not to the point of pain--and he slowly draws his nose up the curve of my shoulder.

My mouth opens as my breathing picks up slightly, and everything in me is screaming to get away, but I don't want to, not really, not at all.

His nose drags over the sensitive spot right behind my ear, and a shudder goes through me when his lips touch it, my knees going weak.

God, that feels good.

His hands on my waist start to slowly inch their way up higher, lightly grazing their way up my stomach over my tank top as his lips move and make contact with my ear.

I shudder again, and his hands stop moving, right below my chest, just barely brushing the bottom of my breasts.

"It's okay, Cassie," he whispers roughly in my ear. "I know you like me more."

I don't register we're moving--his body pressing against mine and moving me forward--until my back is against the wall by the stairs and his face is back on my neck.

My head leans back against the wall, tilting to the side without me fully registering the movement, as he softly but firmly presses my body against the wall with his, both hands up and resting against the wall by my head.

And then I just about die when his lips come into play.

They slowly drag back and forth, all the way from my below my ear to the curve of my shoulder.

His right hand drops from the wall and grabs on to my waist, pressing me harder against both him and the wall in the process.

Why is he so good at this?

I know I should be pushing him away--I know I need to be pushing him away--but my arms stay resting by my side, unmoving. Because I know that I don't want this to end, even though it should. This should've ended the longest time ago. Hell, it shouldn't have even happened in the first place.

All thoughts of stopping Aaron, whether I actually wanted to go through with them or not, fly out of the window when his right hand starts to slowly inch my tank top up.

His hand slips under my shirt and rests against my bare waist.

It's a different feeling, his hand directly touching my skin instead of touching my clothes.

His thumb rubs slow circles on my skin as his lips move away from my neck and towards my collarbone.

He traces my collarbone, up and down, and then, out of nowhere, he bites down.

Not hard, but certainly not soft either. A jolt goes through me, like I've just been electrocuted, and a groan leaves my mouth.

The sound I make seems to spur him on, encourage him, because he moves slightly above my collarbone to a spot that causes another longer and louder groan to leave me.

And he sucks.

It feels so good, whatever he's doing to me, so very good. He alternates between sucking and biting and licking that spot, and I just about lose my fucking mind.

My breath comes out in pants as I lift my hands and tangle them in his hair, pressing his face closer so he won't stop what he's doing.

His left hand comes down to maneuver its way under my shirt and grab on to my waist.

He pulls back slightly, and, before I can complain, he blows softly on where his mouth just was. The cool air hitting my wet skin causes me to moan and shiver against his hands as tingles erupt all over my body.

Accidentally--or maybe not, who knows?--my fingers tighten their grip in his hair, tugging at the messy black strands, and he lets out a small groan of his own as he lowers his head again and starts to suck at the spot in earnest, harder than he was before.

Just as his hands begin to inch their way up my stomach, footsteps start to come down the stairs, and Aaron abruptly pulls away and takes three steps back from me.

He stares at me, eyes wild, hair messy, his chest heaving up and down as he clenches his hands into fists.

I'm sure I look the except same, except that I cross my arms across my chest to stop myself from reaching out to him.

His eyes drop to my boobs and he stares before shaking his head, snapping him out of whatever daze he was in, and he looks away from me and towards the stairs.

"What is all the goddamn noi--" Autumn stops abruptly as she takes in the distance between me and Aaron, and both of our respective states. "What happened here?" she asks slowly.

"Nothing," I say hurriedly, still the slightest bit out of breath. "I just came to see if I could stay in your room for the rest of today."

Autumn eyes me, not quite believing me, before she nods slowly, her eyes narrowed. "Okay, sure. Come on up."

She turns away, and I shoot a quick look at Aaron to see him averting his eyes, looking anywhere but me.

I hesitate, and he shifts his eyes to mine, opening his mouth to say something, but before he can I turn away and run up the stairs, following Autumn into her room.

I think he was going to apologize.

I can deal with awkward conversation, awkward glances, even avoidance, but something I can't deal with is him apologizing for what he did.

I don't want him to apologize because I liked it, and if he apologizes then that means he didn't like it.

I stand in the middle of Autumn's room, staring at the floor as the awful thought hits me.

What if he didn't like it as much as I did?

He said he liked me, didn't he?

Or was that just another instance where I misinterpreted the situation, and he meant he liked me as a friend, or, even worse, as a person?

My mind is all over the place right now, and it's all thanks so Aaron fucking Brewer and his wonderful mouth.

Autumn steps in front of me and I look up at her as she assesses my face before her eyes drop to my neck and she smirks. "Nice hickey."

I groan as I lift my hand to my neck, prodding the slightly sore area where Aaron's mouth spent a lot of time sucking.

And biting.

And licking.

Fuck, his mouth. Normally, I don't like it, but it's much more bearable when he's not talking.

"So, did you guys have fun basically having sex against our living room wall, or..."

---------

Hey, guys, it's me again.

Normally, though I'm not very good at it, I try to have a new chapter published every Friday, but I'm going to change that to every Wednesday, just because I think it's easier, hence the update today instead of two days from now.

That being said, I'm probably not going to be updating next week, because it's Christmas and all that, but the week after that is fair game.

Well, that's it on my end.

Merry Christmas!

--Rose