Eternal Heat Page 7

  Chapter 7

  The following Wednesday, Erik and I are sitting on the floor in front of the couch, an ominous sheet of paper on the carpet in front of us. It’s a print out of the admission requirements for the Juilliard School of Music.

  I’ve admitted I want to try to be a concert pianist, and attending Juilliard would be a dream come true, but after looking at the list of requirements, I’m feeling more than doubtful about my chances.

  For starters, there’s the audition tape. I have to play a selection of three pretty advanced pieces for a minimum of 45 minutes, by memory. One has to be an etude by Chopin, one from a list of sonatas by the likes of Mozart and Schubert, and the last a “substantial composition” from a short list of classical composers. Though the thought of playing these for a Juilliard admissions board is more than intimidating, I already have enough pieces memorized to fulfill two of the three requirements.

  It does not escape my notice that the piece Erik selected for me for Music Fest is one of them.

  I’d only have to learn and memorize one more, which is a good thing since the deadline is only three and a half weeks away.

  If that’s all I had to do, it wouldn’t be so bad, I guess. But there’s this whole other list of requirements and one in particular is tripping me up: the artistic letter of recommendation. This is supposed to be from a teacher or coach who can speak to my musical abilities, discipline, and leadership. The whole thing just makes me feel ridiculous.

  Erik’s been trying to convince me to apply anyway. “You just write your essay explaining the situation so when they get your letters of recommendation, they can take that into consideration.”

  “Who’s going to recommend me?” I don’t think a letter from Erik is going to sway the admissions board.

  Erik takes a deep breath. “Okay, listen. I’ve been telling Mr. Lamont about you and he’s agreed to give you lessons.”

  “Erik, my parents can’t afford—”

  “He knows and he’s not going to charge you.”

  “What?” As much as I’ve always wanted lessons, I don’t think I like this. I don’t want to be somebody’s charity case. It must be written all over my face because Erik presses ahead, trying to reassure me.

  “He wants to. He’s been begging me to bring you in for a while now, but I knew you’d never agree so I didn’t even bring it up. After he saw you play at Music Fest though...” Erik grins.

  I’m softening in spite of myself.

  “He said either I can bring you in or he’ll show up here and wait for you.”

  My eyes widen and he shrugs.

  “I don’t think he’d actually stalk you, but he really wants to work with you before you go off to college. It wouldn’t be for that long. He said he wants to talk to you first, but he’d probably be willing to write you a letter of recommendation.”

  I look over the list of requirements again. “I don’t know. I think they’re looking for people with more experience.”

  “You have it.”

  “I don’t think one performance is quite what they have in mind.”

  “You won honorable mention in the highest level right out of the gate. Come on, you have to know how impressive that is. I say we frame you as a prodigy and let your audition do the rest.”

  Okay, that’s what worries me. I’m willing to admit I have some natural talent, but we can’t go overboard with the whole prodigy thing. Talented or not, there’s no getting around the fact that I’m starting late and there’s plenty, plenty of people in front of me.

  I take a deep breath and look Erik right in the eyes. I’m calm, and firm. “Juilliard is the best school in the country. People like you from all over are going to be trying to get in. Only the best of the best are going to make that cut, Erik. They’d be stupid not to take you. You blew everyone out of the water on Saturday. But I’m not even the best of the best here in Boise. I’m sorry, but I don’t stand a chance. I think I need to stick with BSU.”

  I’ve already been looking at colleges that might have music programs I can get into. I need to stay in state, to keep tuition low. That means Boise State. I have so much catching up to do, it’s probably just as well.

  Of course, there’s the matter of the person sitting next to me and the likelihood that he will be heading to Juilliard in the fall. As if Juilliard weren’t already the ultimate fantasy, Erik would only make it that much better. But I can’t think about that now.

  Erik sighs. “Look, you can apply to BSU too. But why not give Juilliard a shot? You can’t just apply to one school anyway.”

  “You can’t?”

  “No. You have to have a safety school, at least. So BSU can be your safety school. With your GPA and SAT scores, there’s no way you’re not getting in.”

  He’s probably right about that, but applying to colleges isn’t cheap. At least, not when you live in a family where $100 is sometimes hard to scrape up. It seems foolish to waste my parents’ money on a long shot.

  “What’s your safety school?” I ask him.

  “Probably Hartman College.”

  “Hartman! That’s some safety!”

  He shrugs. “My parents want me to apply to the top ten conservatories. They figure at least one of them has to say yes. But Juilliard’s the one we want.”

  “You’re applying to ten schools?”

  He cocks his head at me. “You know, you should apply to Hartman too, while you’re at it. If you don’t get into their conservatory, you can still go to the university side.”

  “I don’t think I’m any more likely to get into Hartman’s conservatory than Juilliard. And, look, I can’t afford to apply to three schools.”

  “Two then. Hartman is your safety and Juilliard is where you’re really going and then we can go together.” He slips his hand around my waist and rests his forehead on mine. “Come on, baby. I was right about Music Fest. Give me some credit.”

  I smile. Yes, Music Fest was amazing. Fucking amazing.

  “What do you have to lose?”

  A reckless feeling takes flight in my chest. “Oh hell.”

  He breaks out into a grin and gives me a kiss so enthusiastic we end up falling back on the carpet. I start giggling. “I didn’t say yes.”

  “Yes, you did.” He’s planting kisses all along my neck, “I heard you. We’re going, baby, I just know it.”

  He comes up and kisses me, then leans on his elbow and grins down at me.

  I’m smiling too. Maybe it’s stupid, but he’s right. I don’t really have anything to lose by applying to Juilliard. I’ll look into Hartman to see if I think that’s a good idea or not.

  “New York.” Those brown eyes light up and his fingers lightly trail over my stomach. My body reacts instantly. “Can’t you see us in New York together?”

  “That would be incredible.” I don’t ask what will happen if he gets into Juilliard and I don’t. I’m not ready to think about that, and hell, if I’m going to apply, I may as well give it all I’ve got. “You really think your teacher will write a recommendation?”

  Erik nods and says quietly. “He’s bound to love you as much as I do.”

  My eyes widen but before I can respond he leans in and kisses me. And kisses me. And kisses me. Maybe he’s afraid of what I might say to his confession, or maybe he has a hard time stopping these kind of kisses just like I do. I don’t know, but when he finally comes up for air I put both hands on his face and lock eyes with him. “I love you, too.”

  It feels so strange to say that to someone I’m not related to, but I know it’s true. I’ve known it for a while.

  He gives me the most vulnerable smile. “You do?”

  I nod and kiss him. And kiss him. And kiss him. It feels different than it has before. We’ve only just started, but I already know I don’t want to stop this time. We’ve been so close to going all the way a few times now. After the last time, he even went out and bought a package of condoms so he’d be prepared when we’re ready.

&nbs
p; I don’t know if he’s ready. It’s the first for him, too. But I’m almost certain I won’t be the one putting the brakes on things today.

  He’s kissing me deeply, his hand up my shirt and under my bra. I have one leg hooked loosely around him. He starts kissing behind my ear and I shiver from the tingles he’s giving me. “Let’s go upstairs,” I whisper.

  It’s not the first time we’ve moved a make out session to his bed. He kisses me again, then sits back on his knees, taking me by the hand. We get to our feet and jog up the stairs, casting glances out the window the whole way, to make sure we’re not spotted by the rare passersby on the lawn.

  As we cross the landing and head to his bedroom, I take out one of my braids. When we get to his room and he closes the door behind us, he helps with the last one. Something about making out with my hair down just adds to the whole thing. I know he likes it too because of the way his eyes get that burning look when he first sees my hair loose.

  It’s the same look he’s giving me now. He puts both hands through my hair at the scalp, running his fingers down until he reaches my waist. He grabs my hips and pulls me to him, kissing me so expertly I’ve decided it’s as natural a talent for him as playing the piano.

  His erection presses against me and I return the pressure, holding him firmly around his lower back. There’s too much material between us though, so we pause just long enough to slip off our jeans and tops. I’m only in my bra and underwear, and he’s in his boxers. His length is straining against the material. The sight of it increases the heat of the blood coursing through my body even more.

  He takes my hands and walks backwards, leading me toward the bed. I lay down with him willingly. We’re on our sides, facing each other. I press my chest and stomach against his as his tongue dives into my mouth again. I wrap one leg around him. Now that there’s so little fabric between us, the pressure of him against my mound is more intense.

  I feel a little flutter of nerves, thinking about how far I want to go if he’s willing, but I don’t want to stop. In fact, the further along this goes, the more sure I am.

  He unhooks my bra and we work together to slide it off and toss it aside. He rolls over on top of me and I wrap both legs around him. We grind against each other rhythmically. It still amazes me that such hardness against otherwise sensitive areas should feel so good, but it does. He feels amazing. He squeezes both my breasts, then leans down to take me into his mouth. I arch up to meet him. As he sucks and works my nipples, the heat and aching between my legs only increases.

  I rub my hands over his firm back and shoulders. His sucking grows more intense, and I grab the back of his hair and push him into me. I’m panting heavily and trying not to moan too much, but sounds of pleasure escape me anyway.

  He comes back up and we dive into a deep kiss, holding each other firmly. I run one hand down his back and slip under the band of his shorts so I can squeeze his bare ass. He cups one hand on my cheek, kisses me deeper, and thrusts his erection against me even harder.

  He hits my clit just perfect, and a spike of pleasure zips through me. He thrusts me again, in the same spot, and we both moan. He does it again and I’m getting so shaky I wonder if it’s possible to come just like this.

  At this point, he lifts off me a bit, breathing hard. He has that heavy-lidded look that means he’s as worked up as I am.

  “If we’re going to stop,” he breathes, “we should probably stop.”

  “I don’t want to stop.”

  He pulls back half an inch more, looking me right in the eye. I hold his gaze. Just looking at him makes my heart flip over. “Are you sure?”

  I nod. “Unless you’re not ready...”

  Still breathing heavily, he looks at me for just a moment. Maybe he’s not there yet. I’m careful not to let my disappointment show. He’s never pushed me and I won’t do that to him either.

  “No, I want to.”

  I give him a shy smile. “You do?”

  He nods and kisses me. My nerves kick up again. What if I do it wrong? But I haven’t changed my mind. Maybe he’s feeling something similar, because now that we’ve committed to it, there’s a bit more hesitancy from both of us. But it doesn’t last long. Soon we’re groping and tasting each other’s mouths and necks eagerly. He squeezes one breast and we angle our hips to press hard against each other.

  Then I’m ready.

  “Do you have a condom?” I whisper, even though I know he does. It seems the best way to say I want to start.

  He pulls up, plants a firm kiss on my lips. “Hang on.”

  His bedroom has its own bathroom, just like the master at my parents’ house, but he doesn’t go in there. He starts digging around on a low shelf in his closet. I’m sure he’s kept the package well hidden.

  Watching him, I slide my panties off with faintly trembling hands. I drop them on the floor and wait with my legs slightly bent, knees together. I’m not sure how I should position myself. Should I be in a sexy position or something? But I stay how I am.

  He must have found the box, because I hear the crumpling of a wrapper. He turns toward me, a little package in his hand, and stops when he sees me. I’m nervous for only a split second. Seeing the desire on his face sets me at ease.

  Still taking me in, he pulls his boxers off and I see him for the first time. It seems I shouldn’t stare, but I get a good look. I can’t believe that’s going to be inside me. I think he must be well-endowed, but with nothing to compare him to, I don’t know for sure. I wonder if it’s going to hurt or how it’s going to feel, and these thoughts stir up my nerves a bit more. But the rest of me is still aching and ready and I can’t wait for him to be in my arms again.

  Our eyes meet and we smile at each other nervously. He comes closer to the bed, opening the package. I watch as he removes the condom and slides it down the length of his shaft. I wonder if I should be helping him. Is that the sexy thing to do? Maybe next time.

  With his task completed, he climbs back onto the bed and gently settles himself on top of me. I love the way his weight feels on my body. “You still okay?” he asks, looking at me.

  I nod. Holding his eyes, I give him a sensual kiss. This tips us both past some point we’ve never been before. He kisses me passionately. My body had cooled slightly while he’d taken care of the condom, but I’m hot everywhere again now. Every place he touches me, my skin feels on fire.

  I hook my ankles around his thighs. I’m exposed to him in a way I’ve never been before. He reaches down and I feel the tip of his shaft against my folds. I hold my breath a moment, anticipating. He’s searching, but hasn’t quite found the right spot.

  I reach down myself and take him in my hand. He lets me do the rest. I line up the tip with my entrance and whisper, “There.”

  My opening stretches as he starts to come in. I pull my hand away, grabbing his waist. He comes inside me slowly, stretching and filling me.

  I gasp and he freezes. “Did I hurt you?”

  I briefly shake my head no. God no. He pulls out slightly then slides inside me again, deeper this time. I exhale forcefully. Oh god. I’m wet everywhere, apparently, and the friction of his hard length along the inside of me feels so good I don’t even know what to do.

  The next moment, things break down as we try and fail to coordinate our movements. For a second I feel truly awkward because I really have no idea what I’m doing. Then we find a rhythm that I know is right because suddenly everything’s clicking and I’m feeling a pleasure I can only describe as pure fire. He’s sliding in and out of me and it all feels right. My legs spread wider of their own accord. He rocks on top of me and I wrap my arms around his back, gripping his firm shoulders.

  He’s panting hard and he’s squeezing me harder. He almost seems to be in another world now. I’ve heard the first time goes quick for guys, so I’m kind of surprised he’s not done already. I’ve also heard it’s not always there for girls the first time, but as far as I can tell, everything’s there for me. I don�
�t know what I was expecting, but I wasn’t expecting this.

  We’re rocking together and he feels so good inside me I’m almost out of my mind. I’m moaning and sucking on his shoulder and neck and rocking my hips to meet him. The pleasure in my core is high and spiking higher.

  I realize I’m about to come. My nerves at having an orgasm with Erik on top of me brings me back down a bit. His movements, however, suddenly grow faster and more intense. This new speed spikes me right back up there.

  Before I have a chance to feel shy about anyone having an actual orgasm, he goes first. He groans deeply into the crook of my neck and his cock suddenly gets even harder. That pushes me over the edge so hard I couldn’t fight it if I wanted to. I bite back the sounds I want to make but I can’t stop my body from convulsing hard with him still thrusting me.

  Bursts of pleasure spike inside me again and again. I realize I’ve cried out slightly without meaning to. I hang on to him firmly as everything comes to one last, sharp peak, then my body starts to slide back down.

  Still pulsing with the after-effects, I come back to my senses and don’t know what to think. I’m stunned by how high that pleasure was—by how goddamned good it felt—and I’m giddy from finally crossing this barrier from childhood into adulthood. And I’m a tiny bit vulnerable and embarrassed.

  Still panting, we look at one another shyly, then laugh a bit. I feel better then. He gently pulls out of me and holds me close to him. I hug him back. I’m smiling widely.

  Oh, I do love him.

  I do.

  We hold and lightly kiss one another only for a moment longer. “I need to take care of this,” he says, lifting away from me. He gives me a wink as he gets to his knees and we both smile at each other. His expression changes, however, when he looks down at himself.

  “Crap. It broke.”

  I get up on one elbow and look too. Sure enough. There he is, just him, without the thin rubber sheath over the tip. There’s only a band of rolled rubber around the base.

  Maybe I should be panicking more, but I’m not. I’m too busy being confused. “How did it break?”