The Middle - Volume Three ✔️

Chapter 37 (Patrick)

Patrick

I feel her nudging against my knees, so I flatten my legs in front of me, allowing her to climb on top of me as we kiss. Both of her hands are running through my hair as her tongue continues its gentle assault on mine, and I feel her rocking her hips against me a couple of times. My hands are firmly pressing against her lower back, and I have no intention of moving them elsewhere for now. I don’t want her thinking I’m too eager. I wasn’t expecting this, and something in the back of my mind is telling me that I should put a stop to it.

But at the same time, I really don’t want to stop. She feels too fucking good, and it feels like it’s been a lifetime since I felt her lips on mine and her fingers tugging on my hair, not just a couple of days.

This is now the fourth time I’ve found myself in this type of situation with Jamie, and I still can’t believe how fucking amazing it feels. Seriously, how the hell is it possible that I’ve never felt this way with any other girl before? I’ve kissed a lot of girls, much more than I’m proud to admit. I’ve had a lot of girls hands raking through my hair, and I’ve felt a lot of girls grinding their hips against mine. But it has never felt better than this. No one else compares, no one else even comes close.

And I know we shouldn’t be doing this. I hadn’t planned on this at all. And I know I should stop it before it goes any further. What good could possible come of this? We have sex again, we both leave awkwardly (because I’m not spending the night with Jamie in my mom’s house and getting us both into an uncomfortable situation with my family in the morning) then we’re back to square one: Me having no idea what’s going through her head, and her having no idea what she wants.

But it’s just so hard to care about any of that when she’s moaning into my mouth and pressing her body harder against mine as she continues kissing me.

I can’t believe we’re making out in my old bedroom at my mom’s place, like a couple of horny teenagers. Well, I guess that’s what we are. But I’ll be 20 soon, and this is so much more than just feeling turned on. It feels electric between us now. And I totally get what she meant when she explained how she missed me today, because I felt exactly the same. And as soon as I felt her hands on me and her lips on mine, I felt whole again. I felt relieved. And I don’t want it to end, not yet.

The zipper of her hoodie is digging into my chest and I want nothing more than to rip it off of her. But I’m not going to, because I know she’s wearing one of her white low cut vest tops underneath it and I cannot deal with those things. The amount of times the guys and I have told her to be careful with that shit in the summer when it’s warm and she’s more likely to end up taking her hoodies off. She has no idea how amazing her body is, and she’s so naive about the way guys look at her sometimes. But I’m not, mostly because I low key look at her the exact same way as all those other dicks.
So I’m not touching her clothes. I'm leaving that up to her. She knows how I feel about her, so this needs to be her call. But, fuck. This making out is starting to drive me crazy. I really wish she would slow it down a little... either that or speed it up.

And as if she can read my mind, she’s pulling her hands out of my hair and tugging at the hem of my t-shirt. She stops kissing my lips, and turns her attention to my neck and collar bone. I catch her earlobe between my teeth and gently graze it, causing her to groan into my neck. Christ. I lift my arms up, allowing her to remove my t-shirt. I look into her eyes for the first time and see that they’re totally glazed over, just like before. She wants me, and I’m glad. I want her too. Fuck, I want her.

Without thinking, I place my hands on her hips and guide them forwards into me, causing her to start slowly grinding on me again. She smiles at this because she knows I’ve lost all willpower now. But I’m glad she’s smiling. She’s got me, and she knows it. I’m glad that’s making her smile.