Fully Automatic (Bullet) (3 page)

Chapter Three

LEAH HADN’T EVEN
gone home after school that Friday.  She went home with Brad.  They spent a couple hours watching videos on YouTube, because she’d been asking about his band and the kind of music he wanted to play.  She had never seen his old band, and she didn’t listen to a lot of the music Brad did.  She was more a Top Forty kind of gal, but maybe Brad could change that.

He had to turn it off after he saw her lip curl at a Chelsea Grin video.

By then, it was close to dinner, so he found the leftover spaghetti in the fridge and threw it in the microwave.  They ate in the kitchen and continued their conversation about his band, but he could tell by the look on her face that Leah was a little hesitant about the music Brad wanted to play.  She must have known before, based on the music Brad played all the time.

When they were done eating, she asked to hear him play.  That made him feel better.  So they went to his bedroom.  His guitar was in there, for starters, and it wasn’t like she’d never been there before.  But the only times she’d been there before were when Brad’s mom had been home.  Still, he wasn’t thinking much about it.  They’d kissed and snuggled on his bed before, but he’d never gone further.  He respected her wishes, but still…she’d ignited a fire in him when she’d wrapped her pink lips around his cock
, and he hadn’t been able to think about much else since.

It didn’t matter, though.  Unless and until she said she was ready, he would keep his hands—and his dick—to himself.

He knew she didn’t like music as heavy as he did, so he played some of his new music on his acoustic guitar and he skipped over the solos.  He also kept the vocals calmer than he would have were he onstage.  He couldn’t help but feel some pride when she said she liked the songs.  He wondered what she would think when they were plugged in and loud, but he thought maybe she could acquire a taste for his music.  Love could maybe help her appreciate it more.

Love?

Yes, Brad knew that was what he was feeling.  He’d never felt this way before, never been drawn to a girl like Leah until now.  She seemed so perfect for him, so right, and even though there were so many differences between them, that was okay.  Those differences seemed to smooth out and not matter when he was with her.

He grinned and set his guitar on the floor, propping the neck against the foot of the bed, and he turned back to her.  “So…you really like the songs?”

“I do.”  She smiled back and after a few moments said, “Are you going to play them like that?”

“What do you mean?”

“You know—kind of quiet like that?”

Oh.  He knew where this was headed.  “Why?”

She placed her index finger on his t-shirt at chest level and swirled it playfully.  “I really liked it.  I…imagined you playing a louder song.”

Yep.  He was right.  “Well, it’ll definitely be plugged in onstage.  And, yeah, lots louder.  Can’t help it, Leah.  It’s in my blood.”

She smiled then and there was something in her eyes.  God, how he’d love to know what she was thinking.  She acted like she was going to say something, but then Brad heard a door downstairs shut.  “Brad!” his mother’s voice carried up the stairs.  “Honey, I was called into work early, so I’m gonna go change, but can you put the groceries away, please?”

“Yeah,
be there in a minute, mom.”  He’d known his mother would leave between six and six-thirty, but he hadn’t expected to not see her at all.  He touched his nose to Leah’s.  “Be right back.”

“I can help you, you know.”

He smiled as he stood.  “Okay.”  He held out his hand and waited for Leah to slip hers into his, and they walked down the stairs.  When they got to the kitchen, Brad found five plastic grocery bags on the table.

“What do you want me to do?”

He looked through the bags and handed one to her.  “That all looks like fridge stuff.  Would you mind putting it in there?”

“No problem.”  While she took care of the one bag, Brad put away the canned and boxed goods in
three of the bags.  As the two of them worked on putting away what was in the last bag, Brad’s mom walked in the kitchen wearing yellow scrubs.

“Oh, Leah.  I didn’t know you were here.  How are you?”

“Great, Mrs. Payne.  How are you?”

She grimaced.  “Busy, unfortunately.”  She walked over to Brad and kissed him on the cheek, standing on her toes since her son was quite a bit taller than she.  “See you tomorrow, bud.”

Brad smiled.  “See ya, mom.”

“See you, Leah.”  His mother grabbed her purse and headed out the door.  Brad couldn’t help but smile as his mother walked out.  He knew she was the reason he had the dark hair on his head.  His father had light brown hair too, but his mother’s was
almost black and so was his.  In fact, he suspected he looked more like his mother all the way around in the face—dark eyes, dark hair, full lips.  The facial hair changed all that, though.  Body-wise, he was more like his father—tall and solid.  Unlike both his parents, though, Brad was planning to be tattooed—
a lot
.

He turned to face his girlfriend.  “So, where were we?”

She grinned.  “You were playing songs for me.”

“Not boring you, was I?”

She shook her head, almost acting shy.  He smiled and kissed her forehead, then took her by the hand to lead her back to his room.  Leah sometimes had a tendency to act demure even when she didn’t need to, but it was one of the things she did that endeared her to Brad.  When they got to his room, they sat back on the edge of the bed where they’d been before, but Leah held onto his hand.  He was going to grab for his guitar but instead looked in her eyes.  And he could tell she didn’t want him to play music for her anymore.  Her eyes told him that much.

Still…she didn’t realize how difficult it was becoming
for him to engage in hot and heavy make out sessions with no release.  He would never pressure her, and he would find ways to take care of himself later, but every time they got involved in a heavy kissing session, he found himself worked up beyond control.  The blow job last weekend hadn’t helped, because now his mind raced back to that night.  He didn’t want to ask her to do it again, but it was all he could think about.

It didn’t matter.  He couldn’t resist her, and he could do what he’d been doing—ta
king care of himself when she was gone.  So he leaned over and cupped her cheek in his hand.  She tilted her head into his hand and closed her eyes.  She inhaled a slow breath and then looked at him.  She searched his eyes as he moved his face close to hers and met her lips with a kiss.

It was unlike any other kiss they had shared before.  There was something about it that felt a little steamier, a little more intimate, and Brad tried not to think about it.  It was then, as his tongue explored her mouth, that he finally let go and let the emotion wash over him, the one he’d been denying, the one he’d felt sure couldn’t be real.

He loved this girl.

Yes, he’d cared about other girls before, but not like Leah.  Leah was beginning to feel like a part of him, like something he wouldn’t be able to live without, like air.  He knew he was too young to feel that way, too
inexperienced, but he couldn’t help the feeling.  It was there, and it was strong, and there wasn’t a damn thing he could do about it.

So he just let himself feel it.  He believed she could feel it too, because something tonight was different.  He felt her hands on his chest, but they weren’t resting there.  Her fingers were curled just enough that he could feel her fingernails through his shirt.  She was tense, but not in a nervous way.

If he was reading her signals right, he knew what to do.  His hand was already on the back of her head, his fingers entwined in her hair, the base of his palm resting on her neck, and he moved his hand to ease her head to the side.  He ended their kiss and moved his lips to her neck, just inches below her ear.  She let out a breath, one he could hear, and that confirmed that he was on the right track.  He could still feel her fingers digging into him as he moved his lips down her neck to below her chin.

He didn’t know if he should say anything or
simply move and let her say something if she wanted him to stop.  He was sure he was on the right track, though, and so he was going to move forward, but he’d take it slow.  He could tell she liked his lips on her neck by how she was responding, so he wanted to keep making her feel good.

That meant moving his hands, and he knew if she didn’t like it, she’d say something.  They’d only been dating a month the first time he’d tried, and she’d stopped him, telling him
she wasn’t ready.  He’d respected her request since, keeping his hands in acceptable places, but when she’d given him that blow job almost a week ago, it had felt like all bets were off—like she was ready to move forward.

So he let his hands glide down her back
, and when he got to her waist, where her pink t-shirt met her jeans, he paused.  She was kissing him, her breathing a little deeper, a little more jagged, and she moved her hands to his shoulders, then his neck.  One hand stayed pressed against his neck, her nails pressing against the flesh, and the other hand wound its way through his hair.  He’d started growing it out at Christmas.  He’d kept it short all through high school to keep his mother happy, but he’d decided he was a man now and could do what he wanted.  His mother hadn’t said a word, not at first, when it started covering his ears, not when his bangs hung in his eyes.  She’d finally caved and asked him during spring break when he was going to get his hair cut, and he told her he wasn’t.  She’d shrugged and frowned but hadn’t said another word.  He was glad now, because Leah’s hand in it felt good.

He slid his hands up underneath the back of her tee where he could feel the warm flesh just above the waistband of her jeans.  She didn’t say anything.  A good sign.  So he thought he’d try moving a little higher.  Still not a word, but as his hand inched its way up her back, she pressed her breasts into him.  But she wasn’t telling him to stop.

Another deep kiss and then his hand reached her bra strap.  He tried to remain calm.  It was time for the moment of truth.  He felt around the back of the strap to make sure it hooked in back and discovered it did, so he slid his other hand up to meet it.  Still nothing.  He was sure if she’d wanted him to stop, she would already be protesting.  Still…he wasn’t going to go fast, wasn’t going to press.  He wanted her to want it; he didn’t want to pressure her.

She kissed him harder back as his fingers worked the hooks on the bra apart, and when he got i
t undone, he let it go.  She didn’t object, so he splayed his hands out over the area where the bra had been holding her, moving one hand up between her shoulder blades.

Time for another moment of truth.  He moved his lips back to her neck and kissed her again.  Not a word except for a soft sigh.  That triggered his confidence.  He was definitely on the right track.  She felt so good too, and he could feel himself getting hard.  That made him mad at himself because he wasn’t doing this for him.  It was for her.  He wanted her to feel like a woman, feel ultimate pleasure because of him, and so he had to hold his steed back.  Tonight was
not
about him.  Not now anyway.  It was only about sweet Leah.  He pressed against her, urging her to lie back, and she did, her head resting on his pillow.  He lay beside her, feeling more sure now but even now wanting to take his time.  One of his arms held him up as he brought his lips back to hers, but the other rested on her belly, right about where he imagined her navel to be, and after another deep kiss, he slid his hand underneath her shirt.  Still no resistance, and so, over the course of the next few seconds, he took his time gliding his hand up to the bottom of her bra.  It remained on, but it was loose now.  He felt his pulse increase, because he was further than he’d ever been before, and he was pretty sure she was going to let him.

Another deep kiss and
he moved his hand under her bra.  Not only did she let him, but he could feel the tight nipple against his hand.  He was touching her with his picking hand, not his fretting hand, so he could appreciate the sensation of her smooth, soft skin.  His fretting fingers would have been worthless—calloused and lacking some of the sensation his picking fingers had.  He was gentle, taking his time touching her—not squeezing or pinching.  Instead, he swirled a finger around the nipple, and she shifted underneath him.  He paused a moment, trying to read the cue.  No, she wasn’t asking him to stop.  He figured it out as her fingers tightened their grip in his hair.

Uncertainty gone, he brushed his fingers down the slope of her breast so he could pull her shirt up.  He stopped kissing her and looked down on her.  Her eyes were closed
, but she looked so beautiful.  He started pulling her shirt up to her chin and then she opened those lovely brown orbs.  Her pupils were wide, and she looked more desirable than he’d ever seen her.  “Take yours off too?”

Goddamn.  No wonder his fucking cock was swollen beyond belief.  Apparently it knew more than he did.

No.  He wasn’t going to.  Not tonight.  He wouldn’t take her virginity.  She would have to ask him to, and they’d have to be prepared.

He did want to make her feel incredible, though, and he wasn’t going to stop.  He nodded at her and pulled his t-shirt over his head first.  She placed her hands on his chest
.  Wow.  That felt better than he’d thought.  He gritted his teeth together and hoped he didn’t look scary to her.  He was fighting some pretty powerful urges, so he plugged into the thought he’d had earlier—the one in which he realized what Leah meant to him.  With that thought foremost in his mind, he pulled her shirt up her body, and she sat up a little so he could get it over her head.  He looked in her eyes that had turned dark with desire, and he grabbed the front of her bra right between the two cups and pulled it away from her body.  She moved and bent her arms so that he could take it all the way off, and he set it on the bed behind where he was going to lie back down again.