-1Thanks for the reviews. They really mean a lot to me. The next couple updates are as light hearted, for the most part, as the last one. This particular one isn't very long, but it does make it's point.
Disclaimer: I do not promote teenage sex.
Later that night
Forbes Hall
Scissors cut through construction paper the color of pumpkin pie. Each snip formed the paper into a perfectly shaped maple leaf. It would soon join the many that were neatly stacked in color coordinated piles. A dark scowl marring Mark's face showed no appreciation for the care Addison was taking in dressing his door up for the fall season. In fact, he looked rather annoyed, sitting on the window ledge, arms crossed.
"Can you hand me that bottle of glue and a popsicle stick?" Without looking up, Addison dictated the order in a rather monotone voice, clipping the last bit of the leaf out. "Oh, and that gold glitter as well."
"You're not putting anything with glitter on my door," Mark grumbled. Her dark blue eyes lift from her task of sorting through the leaves, arranging them in what looked to be some sort of order.
"I'm just going to tip the leaves," Addison snipped, rolling her eyes, something she seemed to do more and more often. "If you have a better idea…" she lifted one shoulder, then dropped it. The cowl neck of her lavender sweater slides off one creamy shoulder. She doesn't bother to fix it.
"I have plenty of ideas. " Pushing away from the window, Mark walks toward her, a smirky grin across his lips. He squats behind her, kissing along the exposed shoulder. "Plenty of better ideas."
"Mark, be serious," Addison wiggled away, looking back to give him a dark look. The flush creeping up her cheeks told him she wasn't unaffected by his closeness.
"Oh, I'm very serious." He pulls her back up against the front of him. Heedless of the open door to his room, he moves her long, red hair away from her neck, then kisses the exposed flesh. He can feel the quickening of her breath beneath his fingers as he moves his hands under her soft sweater. Her nipples harden beneath the lace of her bra. He thumbs across the stiff nubs, letting out a soft chuckle when she lets out a soft moan.
It was after the chuckle her whole body went stiff. "Stop." Her tone was firm, as was her grip when she wrapped her fingers around his wrists, pulling his hands away from her breasts.
"Stop?" Mark blinks, frowning. She had scooted away from him, turned so they face each other. Her face was tight, crimson in color. "What the hell…Addison?"
"Stop. It means I don't want to." Addison crossed her arms over her chest, hunching her shoulders down a bit. "It means I'm tired of sex being the only thing to this…whatever it is…we have going on."
Mark stares at her. Were they really trying to have this conversation? They weren't suppose to have this conversation. Addison wasn't suppose to be like the other girls, and there were other girls. She was suppose to know the score. Hell, he thought she did know the score. "Sex is the only thing we have going on," he says, confused. It was only after she had slammed out of his room that he realized maybe there was more, and maybe he should have kept his mouth shut.