Drenched | ✓

cinco

"It's so good to hear your voice," he said, sounding desperate.

"I wish I could say the same," I replied, easing myself off of Nicolás's lap. I almost whined at the lack of contact, before remembering who I had on the phone.

"Babe, don't be like that."

"Look, Tim, I don't want to talk about it, alright?" I really, really didn't. All I did want was the boy now half a metre away. "I'll call you another time."

"But we're alright?" He asked. "I mean, we're going to get through this, like always?"

"Not this time, Tim. Goodnight." I put the phone down.

"Boyfriend troubles?" Nicolás asked, restoring his arms to rest under his head. He didn't look all that bothered that I'd just accidentally punctured the mood by having my boyfrie—
ex-boyfriend on the phone.

"Something like that," I said, laying down on the sunbed. "He's just a headache. This is where you go 'he doesn't deserve you blah blah.'"

"He doesn't deserve you blah blah?"

I sighed, closing my eyes. "I'll take it."

"How can I judge if he doesn't deserve you or not if I've never met him?"

"Now you're the one giving me a headache," I groaned, sitting up again. "I'm going to bed." I started to walk away, but stopped. "Oh and Nicolás?" His eyes were closed. I hoped he was listening. "Please don't tell anyone about..."

Eyes still closed, he said, "About you jumping on me or about your boyfriend?"

"Ab—" I registered what he said. I went to stand beside him again. "I did not jump you."

"Mm," he hummed, frowning slightly. "That's debatable."

"Nicolás," I ground out, leaning over him. "I did not jump you. Please say I didn't jump you."

"If throwing yourself at me isn't jumping me," he said, opening one eye probably for no other reason than to see my expression. "Then please show me what is." He closed both eyes fully again, smiling in satisfaction.

"Only because you said please," I muttered, before leaning down to him and meeting his lips with my own.

He didn't respond for a moment. I'd started to pull away, feeling embarrassed. Of course he wouldn't want to kiss you, you idiot. But then, as if feeling me getting further from him, he pushed his lips into mine, hard.

There was nothing soft about the kiss. But then, there was nothing soft about Nicolás either. And I liked it that way.

He massaged my lips with his own, likely making them all swollen and pink, but I couldn't bring myself to care. All I wanted was him, him, him. Just for one night. To get it out of my system. And by the ferocity that he was meeting me with, I could tell he had the same thing in mind.

He flipped us so that I was the one laying on the sun bed. I dug my heels into it and pushed myself further up it, weaving my fingers into his hair to take him with me. My hips kept rising to meet his every time his tongue swirled a certain way around my own.

He began decorating my jaw and neck with open-mouthed kisses, his tongue hot against my skin.

"I'd call this jumping me, yes," he said against me, vibrations making my legs twitch. Bloody hell, he's good.