("My Kind of Girl" is originally from the F*cking Awkward Anthology)
Clementine, you can do this.
These people probably think I’m crazy, sitting here with my lips tugged over my teeth like I’m pretending to be someone’s granny who lost her falsies.
The sounds of the student union rush around me as I try to visualize what I’m going to do to my boyfriend tonight.
Because I need to visualize.
I so need to visualize.
Which sounds stupid. Any nimrod with a mouth can give a blow job.
Except I want this to be good for Gavin.
Like I’m studying for a final, I mentally review the suggestions my roommate Jenna gave me this morning. Lick the tip because it’s sensitive. Provide some suction. Get my hands into the action. Use spit to lube it up.
I try to shake off the heebie jeebies I get from the idea of spitting on him. I mean, I’m putting the man’s jungle rod in my mouth. I suppose I can live with a little spit.
And Jenna said that no matter what, I cannot nick his dick with my teeth.
“That’s the number one rule of blow jobs,” she emphasized. “NO TEETH.”
Taking a deep breath, I bundle up in my down coat, gather my things and head to his dorm. I can do this. It doesn’t matter that I’ve never had a penis in my mouth before. I know Gavin doesn’t care that I’m inexperienced.
Truthfully, I don’t think I do either… except that he’s damn good when he goes down on me, and I think I should reciprocate.
We’ve been dating since last semester, and despite our ups and downs and as scary as this sounds, I’m starting to think he’s The One.
Because he puts up with my crazy and doesn’t seem to mind that I’m kind of an asshole on a good day. And he’s sweet and loving and so fucking sexy. But more importantly, he’s my best friend.
So it doesn’t matter that the idea of coming eye to eye with his male anatomy freaks me out a smidge. I love him and want to get over myself.
Bubbles of nervous energy surge in my stomach as I ride up the elevator eighteen floors to his room. When I get there, I pass two freshmen boys who look me up and down like little creepers.
Ignoring them, I head to Gavin’s room. His door is open, and I take off my coat and wait for him to notice me.
The only light filtering in from the window casts him in shadow.
He’s sitting on his small bed, strumming his guitar, looking so damn handsome everything in me clenches. He’s wearing jeans and a Celtics t-shirt, no shoes or socks, and his dark hair hangs in his face, covering those magnetic eyes.
He’s built like a running back—tall, broad and fit. Graceful in a way that conveys his athleticism.
When he looks up, he shoots me one of those killer smiles that make me weak-kneed.
That never ever gets old.
Before I can say anything, he’s setting aside the guitar and stalking across his small room to sweep me off my feet.
Literally off my feet.
I giggle in his arms, tossing my bag and coat to the floor before I wrap my arms around his neck. A second later, he’s kicking the door shut and pushing me against it, but he does it so fast, my breath catches in my throat.
I stare up at him, feeling light-headed and off-balance.
Sometimes, I need to pinch myself when we’re together so I can appreciate that he’s real. And he’s here. With me.
And this gorgeous specimen of a man actually loves me, the unlovable.
Well, until recently, the unlovable. I’m working on having a better self-image. Thanks to Gavin.
His arms tighten around me, and like a ship to its moor, he rights me, straightening all of my twisted emotional parts until my anxiousness melts away.
Especially when those lips touch mine.
His stubble is rough against my skin, and I settle my palm on his cheek.
The kiss leaves me breathless.
Clearing my throat, I whisper, “I feel like a deviant for corrupting the resident advisor.”
“You are a deviant. I was such a good boy before you came along.”
Laughing, I run my fingers through his thick hair, but when our mouths connect again, my laughter stops.
Hot, wet sweeps of his tongue in my mouth have me eager to tumble into his bed with him.
Except it’s Friday night. In the dorms.
“Babe,” I murmur against his mouth. “Should we wait? What if those kids in that corner room get drunk again?” Last weekend, he had to rush another poor slob to the hospital with alcohol poisoning. I really can’t wait until we graduate in May.
“Nah, I’ve already warned them that if they interrupt me having sex with my hot girlfriend again, I would make their lives miserable.”
I smack his arm. “You did not say that.”
“I told them I was studying for a test.” His eyes gleam with humor. “You’re the subject, and I need lots and lots of practice. Gotta get this right. Don’t want my GPA to suffer.”
“We can’t have that.”
“Think you could tutor me? All night long?” Those dimples pop out, and my stupid little heart goes pitter-patter.
I smile back like an idiot.
Until I remember what I want to do tonight, and my stomach sinks. Because what if I do it wrong? What if I give him a bad blow job? Biting my bottom lip, I look away.
“Hey, what’s wrong?” Concern tightens his brow.
I swallow and then nearly choke because I’m thinking about swallowing. Later.
Oh my God. Am I going to swallow? Clearly, I haven’t thought this through.
But spitting afterward seems so rude.
Except I might need to spit on him to lube it up in the first place?
Jesus Christ. This is giving me a headache.
As much as I’d like to forget all musings of the spit-and-dick combo, the issue gives me pause. It’s not like Gavin’s ever raced to the bathroom to rinse his mouth after he went down on me. Although, really, I wouldn’t object because I could see how—
“Clem, where’d you go?”
See, I always have to make things awkward. I can’t be sexy and smooth and get the man in bed and turn him on. No, that would be too easy.
I stare at his t-shirt and twist my finger in the neckline of the fabric. Here goes nothing. “Can I give you a blow job?”
His chest stills under my palm, which freaks me out because why isn’t he saying something? I just offered to put his member in my mouth.
There’s some alliteration. Member in my mouth. Say that ten times.
Ugh. I just cannot do sexy, can I?
My face burns like I’ve just been scorched under a Caribbean sun.
He squeezes me. “Hey.” His voice is deep and rough. Like how he sounds when we have sex. Chills break out on my arms.
He lifts my chin, and those green eyes search mine. “You don’t have to do anything you don’t want.”
“But that’s just it. I want to do this for you.” My chest is heaving because I’m screwing up everything so badly. “You… you’re always so giving in bed,” I whisper. Seriously, he makes me come really hard. With his hands. His mouth. His monster-sized man muscle.
Except I don’t think a penis is an actual muscle. More like tissue. And nerves. A lot of big nerves.
But again, I digress.
His lips descend to mind for one brief, sweet kiss, and when he leans back, mirth dances behind his eyes.
“Baby, you can do whatever you want to me, whenever you want, with any body part you want. But don’t ever let this shit stress you out. What we do together should be fun and turn you on and make you relax. It should be about how much I love you and how good we are together. That’s it. Plain and simple.”
Honestly, could he be any sweeter?
I nod, still embarrassed but also really grateful to be dating such a great guy. And I want to show my gratitude.
“I love you too.” Saying those words doesn’t feel foreign anymore. Because, God, I do love him.
Leaning up on my tiptoes, I thread my fingers through his thick, wavy hair and nibble on his bottom lip. “So that’s a yes? I can go down on you? Even if I screw it up?”
“I’m at your mercy, woman. Do what you want.” He grins at me, and it pierces my heart in a bittersweet way that tells me I’ll only be this in love once, and I’m a lucky girl to be in love with Gavin Murphy. But I’m even luckier to have him return that love.
Surprisingly, I’m not totally terrified by our relationship anymore. And after being disappointed by so many people in my life, allowing myself to feel this much emotion seems monumental.
I let those feelings wash over me and stare at him, a shy smile on my lips.
Suddenly, the jokes are over, and he has me up against the door again with one hand in my hair and another on my leg that he hooks around his hip. His hard length strains against his jeans and presses across my belly.
Wow, so I guess he does like the idea of me heading south. His enthusiasm gives me courage.
I breathe him in, his crisp citrus body wash and the warmer scent of his skin. Gripping his jaw, I bring his mouth to mine but stop just before our lips connect. When I brush my nose against his, he tries to kiss me, but I pull back.
“Nuh-hu.” Slowly, I lick the seam of his lips, and he growls and tightens his hold on me until there’s no way I can fight him.
Laughing, I give up trying to tease.
He smirks and hoists me up until my legs wrap around his waist. He’s hot and hard everywhere.
His kiss is decadent. Long licks into my mouth punctuate the slow grind of his hips, and I’m desperate for more.
I tighten my thighs around him, searching for relief. Needing relief.
My head lolls to the side, and his mouth goes to my neck and sucks my sensitive skin.
“Bed. Now,” I gasp. Because I still have my mission, and if I don’t take back some control, I’ll lose the courage to do this.
In a flash, he turns and tosses me on the bed like I’m a rag doll, and I laugh as I bounce around. I love that about our relationship. Sex is really hot, but fun. And that helps me step out of my comfort zone.
He shucks off his t-shirt, and I soak him in. So many muscles. So much hardness. Yum.
I kick off my shoes and slide off my t-shirt and jeans, knowing full well he’s watching me.
When I’m in my sheer bra and undies, his broad shoulders fill my vision as he moves to the side of the bed.
“You’re so fucking sexy,” he whispers as he reaches behind my neck.
Funny, I was about to say the same thing about him.
Those brilliant green eyes stare at me through thick lashes. His dark hair is sticking out at odd angles, his lips are wet, and a devilish smile tilts his lips.
Returning the smile, I kneel on the bed and run my hands over his shoulders. Over his sculpted chest. Down his sexy stomach. Until I reach the big bulge in his jeans, which I rub slowly before I unbutton his fly.
His nose dips into my hair and his hands are on my breasts, but I tug him down to sit next to me. Then I slide to the floor and nestle between his legs where I unsnap my bra and let it drop down my arms.
Those green eyes widen as I push him onto the bed. Lightly, I scrape my nails down his chest as I kiss my way down his taut stomach.
He takes a deep breath as I nuzzle against his skin and pop open the last button.
My heart is thudding in my chest, but I ignore my nerves and scoot his jeans and boxers down. He angles his hips to help me, and then I’m eye to eye with Little Gavin.
Except he’s not so little.
And when I palm him, he swells in my hand. Hello, Big Boy.
I squint back at him.
He’s actually really pretty if dicks could be considered attractive. Thick and innately masculine. Tall and smooth and strong. Definitely sturdy.
Part of me wants to ask how Gavin likes it, but the other part fears saying something stupid and breaking the mood. He’s obviously turned on, so I decide to forge ahead. Besides, alluding to the fact that other girls have traversed this path before me makes me want to stab someone with a dull pencil, so I suppose it’s best to avoid the topic.
From what we’ve done together so far in the past, I know he likes a firm grip and a steady tempo. So I pull him in long strokes before I lean in closer. His body shifts, and I realize he's leaning up on one arm to watch.
And right now, with his eyes trained on me, his mouth slightly open, I can see how much he wants me. It's a heady feeling.
His hand thrusts into my hair as I dip down and swipe my tongue slowly over his crown.
"Fuuuuck," he groans, his grip tightening.
I rub him across my lips before I take him into my mouth. He tastes a little salty and smells like clean man. And... surprise of all surprises, I like how he feels against my tongue. The feminist in me doesn't even mind that I'm kneeling at his feet because he's done the same for me many times. And I want to return the favor. I want to make him feel as good as he makes me feel. I want to show him that I love him.
But also, I realize, I do this for me.
Sucking him in deeper, I moan, enjoying how turned on I'm getting from this. My nipples are hard, and my undies are a lost cause.
"That's it, baby. Suck a little harder."
My pulse races when I hear those words. I turn up my eyes up to him, my hand pumping in earnest.
His chest is rising quickly now. Everything about him is strung tight. I scrape my nails lightly down his thigh, and his eyes darken.
Yeah, I like this too.
I pull him out to explore him with my tongue. He glistens in my hand, and I take a long lick up the length of him. And there's a lot of ground to cover.
He watches, his eyes molten while he strains in my palm.
And then I lean close and take him down the back of my throat.
"Oh fuck." His words, not mine.
I come up with a gasp, but before I can go down again, he's pulling me into his lap. His kiss is frantic, and I feel him reach for a condom.
Ten seconds later, I'm on my back.
"Why...why didn't you... Let me finish?" I pant as he seats himself between my thighs, pushes aside my thong and thrusts into me. I arch up and close my eyes, feeling so good and full when he sinks deeper. He bites my neck, making me shudder.
"Because I need to be inside you. Need to feel this. Wanna feel you come on me."
I wrap my legs around him while he reaches between us and rubs that spot.
My head tilts back, and my eyes close as he pumps harder, heightening the intensity.
The room is awash in our groans as he pushes us both to the edge. With one more thrust, everything in me tightens to that singular place between my thighs, and I come hard, digging my heels into his ass. My head thrashes, and I think I yell a few curse words.
A second later, he pulses and follows with his release, letting out a deep moan that sends shivers all over me.
Who knew it was so hot to hear a man come?
We stay twined together, panting and sweaty on his small dorm bed.
We're just barely catching our breath when he rolls us to the left. I figure he wants me on top, so I let him pull me along, except he keeps going. And going.
I let out a scream as we tumble to the floor. Still fully connected.
“Holy shit,” he groans beneath me. “Guess I overestimated the size of my bed.”
After a moment, I start to laugh. "Are you okay? Did I break your dick?" I laugh harder, and he squirms underneath me, his body quaking with laughter. Actually, everything quakes. "Honey, really, are you okay?"
"You don’t want kids, right?” he grunts out.
“Aww.” I slowly disengage from our locked and loaded position. My knees are scratched from the hideous low-pile carpet. But aside from that, I’m okay. At least I wasn’t chopped in two by his monster-sized mansicle.
Although… my girlie garden is definitely sore.
Once I’ve untangled myself from his limbs, I straddle his stomach but try to keep my weight off him. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”
“If I had to pick how I die, balls-deep in you is the way I’d go.”
I snort laugh. Apparently, falling off the bed has made him ultra honest. He pulls me down to him until we’re naked chest to naked chest again.
He clears his throat. “But, uh, you’re not planning on us having kids, right?”
Whoa. That’s some major “we’re definitely ending up together forever and ever and having a dog and a house and a family” kind of reference.
What’s crazy is I think I want that. But more shocking is the realization that it doesn’t scare the shit out of me.
I kiss him. Just a soft brush of my lips against his as I caress his jaw. “I don’t know.” I swallow the lump in my throat. “I might want kids. If they have your eyes.”
He smiles, and it’s wide and brilliant and makes me forget we nearly died two minutes ago.
It’s my turn to clear my throat. “Plus, you know, I could always kiss it and make it better."
He laughs again. "Isn't that what preempted our near-death experience?”
I nuzzle against him and ignore the fact that we’re on his dorm room floor. “Like you said, it’s one hell of a way to go.”
That gets me a low rumble of satisfaction, which makes me smile.
With a few more groans, we peel ourselves off the floor and clean up in his en-suite bathroom—one of the small perks of being the RA—and get ready for bed.
Internally, I high-five myself for my newly acquired BJ skills. Gavin enjoyed himself, and I didn’t bite him or end up with something icky in my hair or eyes. Bonus.
And except for the death roll off his bed, it wasn’t terribly awkward. Even better, there weren’t any interruptions.
“Thank God it’s quiet on the floor tonight,” I whisper a few minutes later, once we’re curled up together in bed.
He’s quiet. “It’s Friday, right?”
I nod and snuggle closer.
He makes this noise in the back of his throat and sits up with a frown.
“What’s wrong?” I ask. Glancing at the clock, I realize it’s not that late. Only midnight.
“It’s too quiet.” He tosses on a pair of sweats and a t-shirt and shuffles into his running shoes.
Even fully clothed, he makes my mouth water. Especially when he looks over at me with that disheveled mop on his head and woos me with those dimples.
Leaning down for a kiss, he mumbles, “Maybe everyone is out partying, but I should make the rounds to make sure no one is passed out, drowning in vomit.”
I shudder at the thought, but I love that he cares about the kids on his floor. Well, they’re not kids. They’re all eighteen or nineteen, but they seem like kids sometimes with the dumb things they do.
“I’ll come with you.” I reach for his flannel and throw it on sans bra. This is me living life on the edge. Then I slide on my jeans, forgoing my wet underwear because ew.
His hand is on the door while he waits for me. “Thanks, babe. I like when you keep me company.”
My silly heart sighs.
I’m busy staring up at him like a lovesick school girl when he wraps an arm around my shoulder and opens the door.
A round of applause has me stopping short and jerking back.
What. The. Fuck.
Four freshmen guys are sitting on the hallway floor, sporting shit-eating grins and snacking on popcorn. One by one, they proudly hold out a number on a sheet of paper. Ten. Ten. Ten. Nine point five.
The last douchewad smiles like a moron. “Thought you guys needed to work on that dismount.”
My face burns. Those little shits were listening to us having sex? And rating us?
That’s when I realize our mistake. We usually turn on music or the floor is so loud with TVs blaring that we’ve never had to worry about eavesdroppers.
I’m about to tell them to fuck the fuck off when Gavin laughs and pulls me closer to kiss my forehead.
Then he turns to them with a shrug. “We were studying. Really hard.” How he says this with a straight face, I’ll never know. The boys snicker, and Gavin continues nonchalantly. “Besides, I love Clementine, so how we study with the door closed is none of your damn business.”
Aww. I love hearing that he loves me.
His eyes slide to me briefly, and then back to the guys. “Okay, losers, go get a life. I’m pretty sure my girl is about this close from shanking the four of you, so if you value your manhood, I’d run.”
Those little dicks take one look at my expression and scuttle back into their rooms with nary a word.
I turn to Gavin with an evil grin. “You do know me well. Shanking would’ve been my punishment of choice.”
Leaning down, he kisses my lips and then winks. “My kind of girl.”
_ _ _
Be sure to check out Dani and Jax's book, Finding Dandelion, the second book in The Dearest Series.