Jennie's POV
Eventually we stop kissing and I go to sit at the foot of the bed, and Lisa follows me, sitting up by the headboard.
"Okay, now tell me who you fought with; was it Rosé?" I ask, afraid of her answer.
"No. It was just a few random guys."
I'm relieved it wasn't Rosé, but then I register what she actually said. "Wait, a few? How many?"
"Three . . . or four. I am not really sure." She laughs. "It's not funny—why were you fighting, anyway?"
"I don't know . . ." She shrugs. "I was pissed that you left with Rosé and it seemed like a good idea at the time."
"Well, it's not a good idea, and now look how busted up you are." I frown and she cocks her head to the side with a puzzled expression. "What?" "Nothing . . . come here," she says and holds her arms out to me. I move across the bed and lean back on her between her legs.
"I am sorry for the way I treated . . . well, treat you," she says quietly into my ear.
A shiver runs through my body from her breath in my ear and her unforced apology. "It's okay. Well, it's not okay. But I am going to give you one more chance."
I hope she doesn't make me regret it. I don't think I can handle any more hot and cold from her.
"Thank you, I know I don't deserve it. But I am selfish enough to take it," she says, her mouth against my hair. She wraps her arms around me, and sitting with her like this feels foreign and nostalgic at the same time.
When I stay silent she turns my shoulders slightly to have me look at her. "What's wrong?" she asks.
"Nothing. I'm just afraid that you'll change your mind again," I say. I want to dive into this headfirst but am desperately afraid I will hit the bottom.
"I won't. I have never changed my mind. I've just fought my feelings for you. I know you can't trust my words alone, but I want to earn your trust. I won't hurt you again," she promises and leans her forehead against mine.
"Please don't," I beg. I don't care how pathetic I sound.
"I love you, Jennie," she says and my heart leaps out of my chest. The words sound perfect coming off her lips and I would do anything to be able to hear them again.
"I love you, Lisa." This is the first time we have both openly said the words, and I fight down my urge to panic over the possibility that she could take them back again. Even if she does, I will always have the memory of how they sounded, how they made me feel.
"Say it again," she whispers and turns me around to face her. In her eyes I see more vulnerability than I had thought possible for her. I move to my knees and take her face in my hands, rubbing my thumbs over the light stubble on her perfect face. I can tell by her expression that she needs me to say it, over and over again. I will say it as many times as I have to until she believes that she is worthy of someone loving her.
"I love you," I repeat and cover her lips with my own. She hmms in appreciation as her tongue grazes gently over mine. Kissing Lisa feels new and different each time, and she is like a drug that I can't get enough of. Her hands press against the small of my back, bringing our chests together. My mind is telling me to take it slow, to kiss her gently and to savor each second of this gentle calm between us. But my body is telling me to grab a fistful of her hair and pull her shirt over her head. Her lips travel down my jaw and attach themselves to my neck.
That does it. I can't control myself anymore. This is us, all anger and passion and now love. An involuntary moan escapes my lips and she groans against my neck, grabbing my waist and flipping us over so she is hovering over me.
"I . . . have . . . missed you . . . so much," she says in between sucking the skin on my neck. I can't keep my eyes open; it feels too good. She unzips my jacket and looks down at me with hungry eyes. She doesn't ask for my permission before tugging at the fabric, pulling my tank top up and over my head, and she sucks in a sharp breath as I arch my back so she can unclasp my bra.
"I have missed your body . . . the way you fit perfectly in my hand," she growls as she palms my breasts. I moan again and she presses her lower body against mine so I can feel her arousal pressed against my lower stomach. Our breathing is rapid and uncontrolled, and I have never wanted her more. It seems the admission of our feelings hasn't lessened the overwhelming passion between us. I am glad. Her hand glides down over my bare stomach and pops open the button on my jeans. As her fingers slide into my panties she gasps into my mouth. "I have missed how wet you always are for me."
Her words do wicked things to me, and I lift my hips again, begging for contact.
"What do you want, Jennie?" She breathes heavily into the crook of my neck.
"You," I answer before my mind can process what I just said. But I know it's true: I want Lisa in the most primal, deep way possible. Her finger slides easily into me and my head falls back against the pillow as she slips in and out.
"I love to watch you, to see how good I make you feel," she says and I moan in response. My hands fist her T-shirt at her back. She has too many clothes on, but I can't form a coherent sentence to demand their removal. How do we go from "I hate you" to "I love you" to this? I don't care for the answer, though—all I care about is the way she is making me feel, the way she always makes me feel. Her body slides down mine and she removes her hand from my pants. I whine from the loss of contact and she smiles.
As she pulls down my jeans and panties, I gesture at her fully clothed body. "Undress," I say, and she chuckles.
"Yes, ma'am." She smirks and pulls her shirt over her head, revealing her inked skin. I want to run my tongue along every single line on every single tattoo. I love the way the infinity symbol above her wrist is so out of place among the flames inked below it.
"Why did you get this?" I ask, running the pad of my index finger over the mark.
"What?" She's distracted, her eyes and hands focused on my breasts.
"This tattoo. It's so different than the rest. So much . . . softer, and sort of feminine?"
Her fingers roam across both breasts and she leans in, pressing her arousal against my leg. "Feminine, huh?" She smiles and traces her lips across mine before pulling away and cocking a brow.
I no longer have interest in her tattoo or why she got it. I just want to touch her, to feel her mouth on mine.
Before either of us can ruin the moment with more words, I grab hold of her hair and pull her face to mine. I kiss her briefly on her lips before moving to her neck. From my experience in pleasuring Lisa, I know that the spot on her neck just above her collarbone drives her crazy. I plant wet and warm kisses against there, feeling her body jerk and tense as I lift my hips to her again. The feeling of her bare body on top of mine is exquisite. All of our bare skin is already starting to shine a little with perspiration. If one small movement is made, this will be taken to another level. A level that I had never been ready to reach until now. The flexing of Lisa's hard muscles as she slowly rubs herself against me, moaning, is too much for me to resist.
"Lisa . . ." I moan as she glides against me again.
"Yes, baby?" She stops moving. I bring my heels to her thighs and force her to move again. Her eyes flutter closed. "Fuck," hlshe moans.
"I want to . . ." I say.
"You want to what?" Her breath is hot and heavy against my clammy skin.
"I want to . . . you know . . ." I say, finding myself suddenly embarrassed despite our intimate position.
"Oh," she says. She stops moving again and stares into my eyes. She seems to be wagering some internal battle with herself. "I . . . I don't know if that's a good idea . . ."
What? "Why?" I push her off me. Here we go again.
"No . . . no, baby. I just mean for tonight." She wraps her arms around me and puts me on my side, lying next to me. I can't look at her, I'm too humiliated.
"Listen, look at me," she says, tilting my chin. "I want to, fuck do I want to. More than anything, trust me. I have wanted to feel you around me since I met you, but I . . . I just think after everything today and . . . I just want you to be ready. I mean all the way ready, because once we do this, it's done. You can't take it back."
My humiliation eases and I look at her. I know she is right, I know I need to think about this more, but I have a hard time believing that my answer will be any different tomorrow. I should think about it when I'm not under the influence of her naked body grinding against mine. She's worse than alcohol running through my veins.
"Don't be upset with me, please, just think about it for a little while, and if you're sure that's what you want to do, I will gladly fuck you. Over and over, when and where you want. I want to—"
"Okay! Okay!" I bring my hand up to cover her mouth. She laughs against my palm and shrugs her shoulders as if to say, "Just saying."
When I remove my hand from her mouth, she playfully bites my palm and pulls me to her. "I guess I should put some clothes on so you aren't so tempted," she teases and I blush.
I can't decide which aspect of this is more surprising: the fact that I just suggested we have sex, or the fact that she actually has enough respect for me to turn me down.
"But first, let me make you feel good," she mutters and flips me onto my back in one swift motion. Her mouth ducks down between my legs, and within minutes my legs are shaking and I'm covering my mouth with my hand to keep from screaming her name for everyone to hear.