Kissing In Cars (19 page)

It's confession time - I've only ever had sex
one
time.

Here's the ugly truth: I didn't want to head off to college without having done it
at least
once (the world's
worst
logic, I know), and if my parents found out the circumstances they would be so pissed.

Matt would go postal.

'It' happened one weekend about four months ago. My whole family was in Madison for one of Matt's hockey games, when my parents naively let me spend the night at Matt's house instead of with them at their hotel. I wasn't drunk, I wasn't getting out of control - but the opportunity presented itself in the form of hottie Badger goalie Ryan LeShea - who flirted and followed me around all night, and who had
no problem
what-so-ever doing the honor of debauching me after a raucous victory party.

It wasn't magical.

It hurt like
hell
.

It definitely
wasn't
love or anything even remotely close to it.

And yeah, I haven't seen him since (not that I want to).

So, as Weston's fingers graze the skin under my thin shirt, I can't help but tense up slightly from the contact and hope he doesn't notice - it feels foreign to have a guys' hand up my shirt, even though it feels
great
. Suddenly he halts his movements. "Is this okay babe?" he asks. "If you're not comfortable I can stop." Weston is looking down at me, concern in his dark brown eyes.

It's the word 'babe' that does it for me.

I love hearing it
almost as much as I love
...

Instead of speaking, I take his hand and guide it higher. He groans into my neck as his fingers skim the underside of my breasts, teasing the light fabric of my bra.

WESTON

Molly feels so good I could almost cry.

Okay. So, obviously that is an exaggeration - but I'm merely trying to illustrate a point: touching Molly and kissing her is...beyond amazing.

Her skin is ridiculously soft, and my hands are so calloused and rough that I'm slightly awestruck by the difference. I feel her body tense up when my fingers graze her stomach, so I pull away again to ask "Is this okay babe? If you're not comfortable I can stop."

The
babe
reference slips out before I can stop it, but it sounds nice to my ears. And apparently to Molly's because her eyes get big and fill with something that looks to me like adoration. She takes my hand and guides it underneath her shirt.

Then my brain goes to a place it's gone to a million times before: only this time I blurt my thoughts out aloud, well ahead of any common sense, and with no thought to the consequences. I know I shouldn't say it but, "Molly are you... a virgin?"

Her lips hover over my jawline and I feel her rapid breathing on my neck. "Why? Are you planning on defiling me tonight?"

"No! I mean... I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to, but no."
Let's see, how do I put this
? "But oh my god, it's all I can think about. Not that I'd want to do 'it' in a Jeep. Well, yeah, I
would
do it in the Jeep if you - "

Yeah, yeah - I know I'm babbling. But not for long because Molly cuts my words off and she devours my lips before I can say anything even
more
stupid (hard to believe, right?), her hands raking through my hair. Her fingernails scraping along my scalp feel fucking amazing - almost as good as her lips... but not quite.

We make out like this for who knows how long, until I feel the pressure of Molly's palms against my chest. She pushes at me, shoving my shoulders into the back of the seat until I'm facing forward, and before I can protest the loss of our contact, she surprises me by easing a leg up over my lap to straddle me.

I grab onto her waist with renewed enthusiasm.

My hands effortlessly find their way back under her shirt, and my crotch gets even harder (if that's even possible). I skim the underside of her bra, brushing my fingers back and forth against the lacey obstacle before my index finger lazily trails upward to trace the edge just above the cup.

Briefly I wonder what color her bra is before my whole palm envelopes her entire breast. As every teenage boy is wont to do, I feel its weight under my hand and give it a light squeeze, which earns me a throaty moan and a few grinding gyrations from Molly's hips into my groin.

"
Fuck
me
that feels good," I croak out before I can stop myself. "Shit Molly, don't stop doing that." My plea is desperate even to my own ears as her denim clad ass grinds down on my erection, but it's been months since I've been laid and even longer since it's been anyone I actually gave a shit about. Okay, to be fair: I've never given a shit about anyone I've ever had sex with - so this whole 'caring' thing is something new, and I plan to enjoy it.

Even from the backseat of a cramped Jeep.

Molly's incredible tits are in my face now; the neckline of her tank top is now dipping so low from the pull of my hands inside it that her breasts are nearly exposed... and as Molly gasps out loud from my ministrations and further buries her fingers in the hair atop my head, I lean forward the slightest inch to press my lips against her soft, moist neck, trailing hot kisses down her collar bone towards her cleavage with a purpose.

Unable to stop myself, I lick between the valley of her breasts, letting my hot tongue linger on her salty skin. She smells like citrus, an aroma that I've come to fully appreciate as being uniquely Molly. I can't even eat an orange in the school cafeteria these days without getting turned on, for God's sake.

Somewhere from inside the Jeep, a cell phone rings.

Caught up in each other, we ignore it.

"Oh Weston,
yeah
..." Molly mutters. So sexy.

The phone begins ringing again, and through my fuzzy sex crazed haze, I recognize the ringtone: It's my mom.

Fuck shit, double shit.

"Babe, I have to get that," I gasp into Molly's plump cleavage. "It's my mom. She'll kill me if I don't answer it." Groaning, Molly untangles herself from my lap and I let my palm cup her ass before it lands in the seat next to mine.

Digging in my pants pocket, I extract my cell and make quick work of redialing my parents. Immediately, my mom's voice answers. "Where are you? It's raining buckets and your father was just about to come out looking for you."

"I'm stranded in a parking lot, waiting it out with a friend."

Brief pause.

My mom's not an idiot. "Does this 'friend' have a vehicle that can deliver you home? You can leave the bike and your dad can bring you back to get it later."

I glance at Molly. "Yes."

"Okay. Then she can come in and meet us when you get here. I expect you home in fifteen minutes."

Click.

The line goes dead, and I stare at my phone.

"What did she say," Molly asks from beside me with wide eyes, cheeks flushed from my five o'clock shadow, and lips swollen from my kisses.

Unable to resist the temptation, I lean over and give her an open mouth kiss before saying, "They want to meet you."

MOLLY

Dear lord, did he just say what I think he said?

"They want to...meet me?" Stupidly I repeat what he just told me, which, incidentally, I absolutely hate when people do it to me. Drives me bonkers.

"Yeah. I mean, I don't think that was originally the intention, but now that I'm stranded here the opportunity presented itself. My mom said they want me to leave the bike here and when you bring me home, they want you to come in and meet them. Are you cool with that?" Weston looks are me expectantly.

"I...
sure
. I mean... I guess the better question here is, are
you
okay with it?"

He opens his mouth to answer, but before any words come out, there is a loud banging on the back window of the jeep. We both turn in surprise to see Mary and Olivia with their hands and faces pressed up against the glass, and now they're shouting but I can't for the life of me understand what they're saying.

"What the fuck?" Weston voices exactly what I am thinking before scooting over and rolling the window down halfway, rain suddenly intruding on our warm, dry haven. "What the hell are you two doing," he asks, completely disgusted.

"Mary was worried you were stranded because your crotch rocket is still here, so we wanted to check and see if you needed a ride." The rain is battering down on them both and now they look like drowned rats. At this point, Olivia's mascara is running down her face and she looks like Alice Cooper, a rock star from the 80's who resembles a corpse.

Or a zombie. Whatever it is you're into.

"Are you fucking
kidding
me? I'm in the back of a Jeep with my... with Molly. Why would you think I needed a ride home?"

Okay, even I'll admit he's being a tad harsh.

Olivia and Mary just stand in dark parking lot, rain shining under the dull street lamps that fail to light it. Water drips off Mary's nose as she stands there getting soaked and I can't help but take pity on them. "Go you guys! Go dry off before you get sick. We're leaving anyways."

They turn and run through the parking lot towards their red beat up car, and Weston rolls up the back window. "Can you believe that? Not a lick of common sense between them."

"Well... one of them has a crush on you, so... I'm sure they thought they were being helpful." Why I'm defending them when they so clearly ignored me twice today is beyond me, but it truly is hard
not
to feel somewhat sorry for someone begging for attention from a guy as good looking and popular as Weston McGrath. It's almost unavoidable.

What can I say - he has a way about him that makes girls crazy.

Not
me
obviously, but... lots of girls.

"Maybe so, but that was annoying." He looks at me and runs his fingers through his hair. "I guess we can't sit here all night feeling each other up, as much as I'd like to. So let's get cranking and get this meeting with my parents over with."

Chapter Twenty-Three

WESTON

"Give me a little credit for intelligence, would you son? I could eat a can of alphabet soup and shit out a better excuse than the one you just gave me." - Brian McGrath

I wouldn't say my palms are sweaty as we walk into my house - I mean, it could be the rain making my hands wet - but I swipe them over my jeans to dry them anyways, and guide Molly into the laundry room from the garage. I can hear my mom in the kitchen and a few other noises that sound like dishes being put away.

I glance down at the top of Molly's head, barely resisting the urge to plant a kiss on the bow of her ponytail in show of support, and brace myself as we enter the kitchen. Immediately I spot Kendall, who is sitting at the island, shoulder's bent over a notebook and markers that are spread out in front of her. Kendall glances up when we walk through the doorframe, her face registering surprise as she spots Molly, than her stare turns to curiosity as her eyebrows shoot up.

She cocks her head and studies Molly with open fascination. "Who is that?" Kendall does all but point, setting down her marker. The question floats across the kitchen, drawing attention to us.

Great, just what I need - my little sister gawking at Molly like she's never seen a girl before. Okay, let me clarify: like they've never seen a girl I've brought
home
before.

All right. Let me clarify
again
: like they've never seen a girl I've brought home whom I've had good intentions towards - because I've definitely brought girls to the house - just not usually with the intention of conversing with my family -
if you catch my drift
.

My mom turns and I can already see the grin forming on her face as she walks towards us, wiping her hands on a dish towel. Her arms are already extended, and as she's reaching for Molly, I notice how much shorter she is. And then I think,
crap, my mom's going in for a hug.

This is going to be nightmare.

But instead of recoiling - which is what any other girl would have done - Molly leans in and goes in for my mom's hug like it's no big deal, emitting a low, content laugh. "Hello Mrs. McGrath. It's good to meet you. It smells good in here, did you just have dinner?"

I let out the breath I'm holding.

"Yup, just cleaning up loading the dishwasher. And please, call me Laura. We had pot roast - Weston, shame on your for not bringing Molly home to eat with us! Just look at you both, you're soaking wet," my mom exclaims, turning to my sister. "Kendall, go get some towels sweetie for your brother and his friend." She turns and looks at us again (actually, she's only looking at Molly) smiling. She just can't wipe it off her face, it seems.

Must be a mom thing.

Kendall slowly inches off the bar stool. In fact, she's so slow that if I were on fire and needed her to grab an extinguisher, I would have been
dead
by now. She's got this shit eating grin on her face as she says, "By friend, do you really mean
girl friend
? Because I heard mom talking on the phone the other day about you, and that what she called you." The little brat actually used air quotes with her fingers when she said 'friend.'

Holy shit. "Jesus Kendall, what the
hell
!"

Kendall shrugs innocently. "What? It's a legitimate question."

"Weston Richard, watch your mouth! And Kendall Rebecca McGrath, stop embarrassing your brother and go get him and Molly each a towel. Now!" My mom follows her out of the room, probably to lecture her more about embarrassing me (that itself is horrifying) and to make sure the smart ass little shit is actually going to fetch some dry towels.

And... it's back to being a complete nightmare.
I can literally feel the color rising up my neck, and my face is scorching hot. I don't even want to glance over at Molly, but I can feel her shoulders shaking next to me and can hear short sputters of what sounds like a muffled laugh.

"You think that's funny?" I ask her indignantly, crossing my arms over my chest.

"Oh Weston, you should
see
your face. Priceless" Her gaze flickers over my biceps, lazily over my forearms and she bites down on her lower lip. "You look so...
cute
right now, all flustered and blushing." she whispers, her green eyes shining, almost like she's stripping me naked in her mind and liking what she sees.