Indie

I KISSED JEM. Well, he kissed me first, but I kissed him back. And now? Now, I can’t stop thinking about it.

It was . . . I don’t know. It’s hard to find the words to describe it. Almost impossible. I’ve never felt like that before. Is that how it’s supposed to feel?

They always say your first kiss is supposed to be the one you remember, but I don’t remember mine. Not at all. I don’t even remember who it was with — some guy from high school whose face is faded in my memory.

In my mind, my first kiss happened yesterday, in that car. With him. With the windows fogged up and me straddling his waist and his hands everywhere . . .

Everything else pales in comparison. And I’ve been thinking about it ever since he dropped me back off at my apartment yesterday. Incessantly.

“Hellooo?”

I blink, and Mae’s face comes into vision. Right. She came back early, and we’re picking out outfits for New Year’s, and I just completely spaced out. Again.

Mae pushes her face halfway through a jumper looking like she’s in a photo stand-in, and mutters, “What is up with you?”

I shrug. “Nothing...”

“What do you mean nothing?”

“I mean nothing.”

But I can’t help the way my lips tip upward, betraying me.

Mae’s eyes widen, her mouthing opening to form an “o” as evil amusement lights up her dark eyes. “Holy shit . . . you hooked up with him, didn’t you? You hooked up with Jem!”

I wave a dismissive hand as I try on a pair of jeans, almost falling over in the process. When it’s  finally on, I zip it up and turn to face her. “How about we talk about your hook-ups first?”

“What about my hook ups?”

I lift an accusatory brow.

“Okay, fine.” Mae shrugs. “I’m dating Scarlett. Next question.”

I almost choke. “What?”

Her tone is flat. “Why are you acting all surprised?”

I lift my hand in the air. “I don’t know, I thought you’d be more subtle? She’s my roommate for crying out loud. How did you two even happen?”

Mae sighs, not meeting my gaze as she contorts her upper body in a freakish way, pulling off the jumper with way more force than necessary. “You were really out of it for the last three months with that Rutherford loser, you know. I had to speak to Scar to make sure you were okay. Often. And I realized that she’s not that bad. She’s… nice.”

I scoff. “Define nice.”

“I’m not allowed to say anything bad about her now. It goes against the girlfriend code.”

I roll my eyes. “Please. You were the one who used to call her Scarface.”

Mae has the nerve to look offended. “Yeah, because I had to take your side.”

My eyes widen. “Wait, Mae. I just realized something. I think she hated me this whole time because… she was jealous.”

Mae furrows her brows. “I don’t think that’s… ”

I pick up my pillow for the pure need to hold something and then slam it down on to my bed like a lunatic. “Yes, oh my god, she was jealous that I got to hang out with you all the time, when she was the one who really wanted to.”

Mae’s cheeks are flushed.

I gasp. “Oh. My. God. Are you blushing?”

She scowls. “Shut up.”

Of course, I don’t shut up. “You’re blushing. This is insane. I’ve never seen you blush before.”

She makes a dismissive sound. “Whatever. Moral of the story is that I should’ve spent less time with boys. They’re so useless.”

“Not all . . . ” I pipe quietly, and once again, my mind strays to thoughts it had only managed to escape for a brief moment.

“Oh my God, Indigo did you just Not All Men me? Jem must be fucking the sh—”

I slap my hands to my face. “Oh my God, shut up!”

“You shut up!”

“You shut up first!”

We stare at each other for a while like we both realize that our conversations are filled with way too many Oh my Gods and shut ups, and we just burst into laughter.

Mae rolls her eyes as she sobers. “Okay but seriously, did you… ?” She raises her brows twice.

I give her a pointed look. “No, we did not, for your information.”

She lays back on the bed. “Well I can tell you all you want to know about me and Scar—”

I lift a hand. “Mae, trust me, I do not want to know a single thing about you and my roommate.”

“Really?”

I sigh. “You’re going to tell me anyway aren’t you.”

She passes me a smug, close-lipped smile. “You know me so well.”

*

Whoever’s apartment we’re in right now must be freaking loaded. The place is huge, and I’m pretty sure it’s a penthouse or something. White marble floors, sleek furniture and fully glass windows for walls. Light from the city pours through the space, casting a glittering glow on everything.

In the end, I went with a glitter halter top and light wash jeans, and I carried a coat, even if it messed with my outfit a little. Scarlett was wearing a long sleeved little black dress and Mae chose a pool-blue bodycon.

“I’m gonna go get something to drink,” Mae yells to me, over the music.

Scarlett just follows after her without bothering to say bye. Typical. I take the opportunity to peruse the scene.

There are people everywhere. I recognise the tall Indian girl, Rhia, in the crowd. Her blonde friend isn’t with her this time. She’s laughing at something a guy from the basketball team is saying to her. There are a few familiar faces I see around campus, too.

“Hey! Indie!” I turn to the familiar voice to find Ace walking over to me, another one of Jem’s friends trailing close behind him. With dark hair and chiselled features, he looks like he could be a model. Ace is pretty, too, but more in a boy next door kind of way.

“You’re Indie?” The guy who looks like a model says.

I nod. “Yep.”

“I’ve heard a lot about you,” he says, “I’m Logan.”

I wonder what he means. He smiles at me, but he seems distracted, and he keeps glancing in the direction of the tall girl— Rhia, and his jaw clenches like he’s very annoyed about something.

“Where’s Jem?” I ask Ace.

He shrugs. “He doesn’t really like parties. I’m gonna go get some drinks, you want something?”

“Nope, thanks,” I say, “Oh, wait, do you know whose party this is?”

Ace gestures to the bar behind me. “Kedar’s.”

As the mention of his name, the football captain turns in the crowd and catches my gaze. Ace is already walking away, and I’m rooted to the spot as Kedar walks over. “Hey. Indie, right?”

“I’m surprised you remembered. This is your party?”

“Yep.” He grins, looking around. “Where’s your man?”

“Oh.” A bitter taste fills my mouth. “We broke up.”

“Rough.”

“You have no idea.”

Kedar gives me a chargined smile. “You want to do two shots with me?”

I shrug. “Sure.”

We walk over to the bar and Kedar greets a few people along the way. When we finally reach the bar, he pours up two shots of what looks like vodka for us both.

He shoots me a grin, lifting up a shot glass. “To your ex.”

I resist the urge to roll my eyes. No way I’m taking a shot in Kade’s name. I pick up my shot glass tenderly to avoid spilling. “To me.”

Kedar’s grin grows as he tips the shot back and I do too. The liquid burns as it rolls down my throat. “Oh my god, that’s strong.”

“It’s Russian vodka,” he says, as we clink our second round and down them. “They have crazy alcohol levels.”

He passed me a lime slice to cut the taste of the vodka.

“Russian vodka,” I hum, biting down on the lime slice. “How come you’re so loaded?”

He shrugs. “My parents. What about you? You single now?”

“I—”

At that precise moment, a heavy arm sneaks around my waist. I startle from the touch, glancing to my side to find Jem.

He smells divine. Seriously. If I had to choose one scent to live with for my entire life it would be whatever cologne he uses.

The tattoos on his arms are on full display with the white t-shirt he has on, the ones he retouched now darker.

Blood rushes to my cheeks as I remember being on top of all of that. Of his hands in my hair, his lips on mine, his tongue in my mouth.

“Who’s this?” Kedar’s voice brings me back to reality.

Jem’s hold on my waist tightens, his touch hot where his calluses palm meets the exposed skin of my midriff.

Kedar is looking at him warily, and I panic, stuttering. “Oh, this is my . . . friend, Jem. Jem, this is Kedar.”

Jem gives me a dry look that says he doesn’t really care what Kedar’s name is. And then he glances back at him with a tight jaw. “Oh yeah, I’m her friend.”

“Respect that, man,” Kedar says, nodding. He winks at me, like he gets the message. “Have fun.”

When he disappears into the crowd, I turn to Jem, who doesn’t drop his hand from my waist.

“I heard you don’t like parties,” I say.

He furrows his brow. “From who?”

I smile, feeling the alcohol setting a buzz under my skin. “I have my sources.”

Jem draws a circle in the skin of my waist, just above the waistband of my jeans. My breath hitches. He leans down to my ear. “It’s true. I don’t like parties. I came because I heard you were here.”

My voice comes out as a breath. “From who?”

Light amusement enters his eyes as he draws away. “I have my sources.”

The circles he’s etching into my skin with the pad of his thumb go lower. I try to focus my breathing. “You know that counts as stalking?”

The corner of his mouth tips up. “Mae posted to her story, and Eli follows her.”

He trails his hand up all the way up to my bellybutton, sending a flurry of nerves up my abdomen, then pulls his hand up, offering it to me instead. “Dance with me?”

I remember the time we “danced” at that party all that time back. I was still trying desperately to get Kade’s attention, and he was willing to let me use him.

Now, things are different.

Now, I take his hand because I want to, and I don’t care who sees.

The music rises to a crescendo, and around us, people are dancing, solo cups in the air.

The alcohol loosens my limbs and sets a smile on my face. In the blur of it all, Jem looks beautiful. There’s no other way to put it. Angels constructed the man’s face.

I sing the lyrics as I use his hand to twirl myself with a laugh.

The best part of life, I’m with you, for forever ever even if it end.

He grins down at me with something unrecognizable in his grey eyes as he follows my movement only gently, giving me space. “You’re drunk.”

And the best part of life, I’m with you for forever ever, then we re-begin.

I snicker. “Only a little.”

He twists my hand so that my back is against him. I grind against him little as I sway to the music, and his body radiates a heavy heat.

The countdown for the new year starts, and the music changes and grows louder as the crowd gets louder and more excited.

“Five.”

Jem twists me so that I’m back in his arms.

“Four.”

He stares down at me, and there’s something in his eyes, something overwhelming.

“Three.”

He lifts a hand to my face, and everything seems to happen in slow motion.

“Two.”

He cups my jaw like it’s made of glass, and traces a thumb over the crest of my cheekbone. Always touching me, always so soft.

“One.”

And then he leans down and presses his lips to mine, and around us, people erupt. “HAPPY NEW YEAR!”

In the distance, fireworks burst. The kiss starts out soft. Tender. I know I taste like vodka, but he tastes sweet. Like … marshmallows. He kisses me so gently it makes me want to cry.

And then it changes. One hand tugs at my hair, the other grips my waist, pressing me firmly against him. I can feel every ridge of his body against mine. Hard. Delicious. His hand tugs harder at my hair, angling my mouth so that he can plough his tongue in further, the push and pull of his tongue inside my mouth punishing.

His other hand trails down from my waist to my ass as he grabs a handful of it and squeezes, and a heavy weight settles between my legs, pulsing like a live creature.

I don’t know whether he’s kissing me or killing me. But I love it.

God, I’m in love with it.

Jem separates from me harshly, cruelly, and we’re both heaving for air. His hand is still in my hair, and he gives it a slight tug so that my chin lifts. He leans down, licking the seam of my lips before nipping on my bottom lip between his teeth and letting go so it pops back.

His warm, sweet breath fans my face as he stares down at me, his grey eyes intense. “Do I kiss you like a friend?”

I’m about to answer, but the words are stuck at the top of my throat.

He grins—because he knows exactly what he’s doing. The crowd billows around us as his hand trails down the length of my. arm, and he locks his fingers with mine as pulls me out of the crowd and further into the apartment, into an empty room.

It’s designed like a hotel room, with large empty space and a giant bed with white sheets and fluffy looking white pillows. Jem lets go of my hand to lock the door.

I swallow as he draws his gaze back to me. “Get on the bed.”

His voice is thick. Hoarse. And maybe, just maybe, this is killing him just as much as it’s killing me.

I sit on the edge of the bed.

“Lean back.”

I listen, leaning back. And I quickly learn two things. One— he likes telling me what to do. And two — I like to listen. When it comes to this, at least.

He stands at the foot of the bed. “Show me how you like it.”

I look up at him, knitting my brows.

His jaw is tight. “Touch yourself.”

Oh.

Swallowing, I lean further back back, my chest lifting and falling as my hand travels to the button of my jeans, and my hand trembles as I pop it open and drag down the zipper.

I’m deliberating on whether to pull my jeans off, because I can technically do with them still on, when he says, “Take it off.”

I meet his gaze, and he’s focused on my, his gaze heated.

I don’t look away — can’t look away — as I tuck my thumbs into the loops of my jean and pull them down. The cool air touches my skin, raising goose bumps on my flesh as I push the material off my hips.

I thank whatever guardian angel is watching over me, because I have my pretty underwear on. White lace.

Jem’s jaw is clenched, his grey eyes fixed on the movement. He tucks his hands into his pockets, but his biceps are strained—like he wants to touch me, but he’s holding back.

I lean back on the pillows and spread my legs, my heart beating at an unhealthy speed as I push my fingers under the lace and circle them. “Like this?”

He edges closer. “Yes, baby. Just like that.”

My breaths come out shallow. “What about you?”

“This is for me.”

And then he’s on the bed, making space for himself between my legs. The warmth of his body is delicious, like hot butter on toast. “I’m going to touch you, now.”

I can’t breathe. Can’t think straight.

“Indie.”

“Yes?” I splutter, realizing quickly that he’s asking for permission, “Yes, please.”

And then his fingers are branding my hips.

“Up,” he grunts, “Lift your hips up.”

And I listen. And just like that, he pulls the material off my legs, all the way down to my ankles, leaving me completely bare in front of him. There’s a sharp of intake of breath — from him, as his gaze fixes on me, pooling with lust.

“Keep going,” he orders roughly.

And I listen, circling two fingers over that little nub again. I’ve done this before. Not like this. Never like this. Now, my nerves are on end, blood heating under my skin. I can’t help but lean further back, arch my spine, and quicken the snap of my wrist.

He runs his rough hands up my legs, slowly, reverently, and his touch is like a brand of fire. Then he settles his hands on the sides of my hips as he stares down at me touching myself, and his pupils dilate so much they’re almost black.

“Fuck, baby, you’re so pretty.”

His hands skim my thighs to my knees and back up again. My breaths are growing more labored and I know I’m close. Apparently he does, too, because he abruptly takes my wrist, the one I was touching myself with.

I let out a frustrated groan.

“Don’t be greedy,” he says.

He takes my hand to his mouth. Then he runs his tongue along the length of my fingers, licking me clean.

Oh my God.

It’s so . . . perversely crude that I can’t help the small moan that bubbles up my throat.

And then he lowers his head until my thighs are on either side of his face, and I have to resist the urge to clench them tighter. His cheeks are soft and smooth shaven, the hair from his buzzcut rough on my skin.

Jem grips the tops of my thighs, spreading me open. And then he licks me—in one long, fluid motion, and the pulse between my legs becomes almost unbearable. He repeats the motion, the brush of his tongue torturous. He circles, over and over. My fingers graze his short hair, desperate for something to tug on. I can feel it building up again inside, but he pulls away again, and I resist the urge to groan out loud.

I feel his jaw clench. “Do I eat your pussy like a friend?”

His warm, rough hand settles on my lower stomach as his thumb finds my clit, circling it in the exact way I’d been doing it. I can’t tell if he’s pleasuring me or torturing me, but as he continues it becomes clear — it’s a little of both. Or a lot.

“Jem,” I beg, although I’m not sure for what.

And suddenly, he pushes his tongue inside me and rubs his thumb faster, and it’s too much.

I come so hard I see black stars, pleasure dotting my vision as sweet, pulsing satisfaction courses through my veins.

Holy. Shit.

He literally blew my world. I’m perfectly ruined. Because I know, with certainty, that nothing will ever come close. To this. To him.

He leans over me, pressing his weight into my body and I wrap my legs around him, pressing him closer to me. He’s hard—I can feel the bulge through his pants. My hands travel down to the waistband of his jeans when he makes a strangled sound of protest.

“No.”

I glance up at him, confused.

No? A seed of doubt is planted in my mind, but he uproots it immediately as he grips my chin with one hand, squeezing my cheeks as he kisses me. Hard.

“I’ll fuck you when you’re mine,” he says.

I frown.

He kisses me again, sucking on my tongue like it’s air, stealing the frown from my lips. “When you don’t have to call me your friend anymore.”

He plants a soft, quick kiss to my lips.  “Go out with me. On a date.”

I take a breath, one of the few he’s allowed me.

“What?” I blink. His eyes crinkle. In the dim light, they’re a liquid silver. His lips are swollen and blushed. God, if that was what his looked like . . .

“I would like you,” he says, “to go out with me.”

“Um,” I gulp, but my brain is buffering like it’s connected to the slowest freaking Wi-Fi in the world as I come down from my sex-crazed high.

“Sure,” I sputter.

I can’t come up with anything better.

Jem doesn’t seem to care.

He just smiles. Then kisses me. Again. And again. And again.