Eternal Heat Page 8

  “I don’t know. Maybe I didn’t put it on right?”

  Is there a wrong way to put it on? “Maybe we should’ve Googled it.”

  We look at each other helplessly for a moment. I’m trying to remember when I had my last period and when women are supposed to be fertile. Hell if I know. Well, there’s nothing to be done now.

  “Well.” I kind of shrug.

  “God, I’m sorry.”

  “It’s okay.”

  And that’s the end of it. We quietly get dressed and he helps me do up my hair and we go back to the piano just like we always do. We only have time for a few more songs, then I head home. I greet my parents, wondering if they can see it on my face. But they say hi just like normal and we go about our evening. We have mom’s famous stacked enchiladas with green sauce and I retire to my room and get started on my physics homework.

  It’s almost like I’m the same girl I was when I woke up this morning, even though I’m not. I’ll never be that girl again, but that’s okay. I like this new person I am now. She feels good.

  I keep waiting to feel more scared about the broken condom, but it doesn’t happen. Maybe because I figure the odds are with us. Maybe because I really am a stupid teenager, even though I hate it when adults use that phrase. I don’t know what it is, but I have no desire to make myself more nervous than I am.

  Eight days later, Erik has mastered the fine art of condom wearing, and we’re forced to take a break from our new favorite activity because my period—blessedly—has finally started.

  Chapter 8

  By the time I’ve applied to colleges and am waiting for my letters—four months later—Erik and I are in so deep, the outcome of our applications carries a different weight than it did in the fall.

  He’s already received five acceptance letters, including one from Hartman, while I’ve only heard back from BSU. As expected, they let me in, so my safety school is in the bag. Come fall, at least I know I’ll have somewhere to go. But Erik didn’t apply to BSU and I wouldn’t want him to go there even if he did. It’s a good program but not of the same caliber as Juilliard, and not in New York, where someone of his talent really needs to be.

  My parents agreed to pay for application fees to three schools. Erik may have considered Hartman a safety, but I didn’t. While I didn’t worry about getting in on the academic side, I wouldn’t have access to the music program if I wasn’t accepted into their conservatory. At least at BSU I can participate in their music program, which isn’t bad. But even I know that’s not ideal, so in addition to coughing up the dough for Juilliard, we added Hartman College to the list. It’s still a top ten school, so it feels like a long shot too. But, like Erik says, two shots are better than one. (I don’t think he’s counting BSU any more than I am.)

  My dad is hoping for Hartman. Being in central California, it’s not exactly close to Boise, but it’s a lot closer than New York. My mom, who understands how badly Erik and I want to be together and how likely it is he’ll be at Juilliard come fall whether I’m there or not, is pulling for that one just like I am.

  I still don’t know if she knows we’re sexually active. As open as my mom can be about things, she’s never brought it up and I haven’t either. I’ve thought about asking her to take me to the doctor so I can get on some birth control, but I can’t bring myself to do it. The issue of the pill is exactly what makes me think my mom is ignorant to the whole thing: I think she’d suggest the pill herself if she suspected. Do I really want to tell her that her little girl isn’t so little anymore? And how would my dad react? Yeah. For now, Erik and I are sticking with condoms.

  I’m almost certain his parents don’t know we’re having sex. I’m sure we’d hear all about it if they did. They’re not too happy we’re dating. His dad hasn’t come out and said he thinks I’m beneath his son, but he’s made it clear enough. Recently his mom told Erik she thinks I’m a distraction. If she only knew how much we really see of one another. She once told me not to get serious with Erik because his music career always comes first and after all, he’ll be off to Juilliard in the fall. Neither one of us have heard from Juilliard yet, but she’s made it obvious how she thinks it’s all going to go down.

  Juilliard has always been their top choice, but his parents have even more reason to want it now. His dad is up for a promotion that would mean relocating to New York City. Nothing’s official yet, but it’s looking good and they’re making plans as if it were a done deal. If his dad gets it, he’ll be off to New York in a few weeks, temporarily living in a condo provided by the company. Meanwhile, Erik and his mom would stay behind so he can finish the last couple months of school. She’s already picked which movers will load everything up a few days after graduation and haul it across the country. Imagine paying people to pack up an entire house!

  It’s not that Erik necessarily has to go with them. In theory, he can go anywhere. But his family is one of those where the parents, in my opinion, have way too much say over stuff that should be his decision. Not that he wouldn’t choose Juilliard anyway. Who wouldn’t?

  Erik doesn’t seem to care whether his dad transfers to New York or not, because in his mind we’re both already going to Juilliard. I don’t know where he gets his confidence in me. I haven’t heard from Juilliard or Hartman. What if I don’t get into either one? For the few weeks I’ve been working with Mr. Lamont, which has been freaking incredible, I’ve learned a lot. I keep wishing I could re-do my audition tapes, but it’s too late for that. All I can do is hope for the best and wait, and wait, and wait.

  It’s Friday afternoon and I’m walking home from school, approaching my house. Erik’s picking me up in a few minutes for our date. I’m looking forward to it, but at this precise moment, my mind is focused on one thing and one thing only. I hitch my school bag higher on my shoulder and head straight to our mailbox, just as I have every day for weeks. And just like every other day, I get a swoop of anticipation in my stomach when I pull out the daily stack of mail.

  Flipping through, I freeze when I see a cream-colored envelope from Hartman College. My heart starts banging around in my chest.

  Something! Finally!

  But I just stand there gawking at it. The maroon crest is embossed on the upper left-hand corner. It’s a thick envelope. That has to be a good sign, right? I got all kinds of paperwork with my acceptance letter to BSU and Erik’s have been the same way. But if Hartman were going to tell me to take a hike, how many pages would they really need? I walk up the sidewalk, still studying the envelope. I unlock the front door, drop my bag on the floor, head for the kitchen, and toss the remaining mail on the counter.

  Missy, our cat, is lounging on the bench under the kitchen window. She looks nice and toasty in her little spot of sunshine and blinks at me languidly.

  I squeeze the envelope, trying to guess how many pages are inside. Five maybe? I think about waiting for Erik for moral support—he should be here any time now—but I have a feeling I know what this is going to say. All of a sudden, I can’t wait another second to find out for sure.

  Holding my breath, I rip into the envelope and pull out a stack of neatly folded pages.

  Three seconds later, I’m screaming and jumping around in the kitchen, and Missy is bolting down the hallway in terror.

  The doorbell rings and I run for the front door, knowing who it is. I fling it open to see Erik’s startled face. “I got into Hartman! I got into Hartman!”

  He whoops and hangs onto me as I launch myself at him, wrapping my arms and legs around him. “I got in! I got in!”

  He laughs and spins me around. “I knew you would, baby!”

  I drop to my feet and show him the letter. “Look! Look at it!”

  He puts his arm around me and squeezes my shoulders. I lean against his chest, grinning at the letter. Then I start flipping through the other pages. It’s all there: the admissions form and information about deadlines and fees. The fees scare the hell out of me, frankly, but I’ve applied for schol
arships and aid at all three schools and can only hope for the best. If I have to, I’ll work part-time to help pay for things and take out loans for the rest.

  “I can’t believe it.” I exhale sharply. “Hartman. I can’t believe I got in.”

  “See?” Erik says with his trademark confidence. I already know what he’s going to say next. “I told you you’re good enough. Now Juilliard doesn’t seem like such a stretch, does it?”

  I look up at him. He’s grinning down at me. I smile broadly. God, he’s right. For the first time, Juilliard really, truly feels like it could happen. If I could get into Hartman...

  “I love you.”

  He smiles. “I love you too, sweetheart.” He wags his eyebrows at me. “Time to celebrate?”

  “My parents will be home soon,” I say, laughing lightly and returning my attention to the letter. I hold it to my chest. I can’t believe I got in to freaking Hartman.

  “Well, how long does it take?” He pinches my ass.

  It’s tempting, I have to admit. But I settle for giving him an enthusiastic kiss. We hold each other tightly. I think he’s as excited about this new development as I am.

  New York. Come fall Erik and I could really be together in New York, studying at one of the best music conservatories in the country.

  “Ready for the fair?” he asks, when we finally come up for air.

  I smile. I’m ready for anything with him.

  We should’ve just gone back to his place to get things out of our system, but we’d probably still be groping each other on the Ferris wheel and ducking into nooks to steal a kiss. We can’t ever seem to get enough of each other. No matter what else we’re doing—playing, talking, watching movies, or spinning around on wild rides at the fair—it never seems to be too long before we’re going at it to one degree or another.

  After hitting our favorite rides (we went on the drop tower five times), we climb into his car and head home.

  Well, kind of home. The roundabout way to home. The way that includes a stop at a secluded park we discovered a couple months ago. It’s since become “our spot” during those times when the privacy of his home is unavailable. All it takes is for us to pull into the darkened parking lot and I start to get wet. Expecting this was probably where we’d end up tonight, I even wore a denim skirt for the occasion.

  Erik loves it when I wear skirts.

  He kills the engine and looks over at me with a delicious grin. “Hello future Juilliard student,” he says in a sultry voice.

  “Don’t curse it.” I grin.

  He leans over and puts his hand on my bare knee, gently cupping the inside of my leg. I lean in too, his hand sliding up my inner thigh as we come together for a sensual kiss. God, can he kiss. His lips lure me in and raise my body temperature as much as anything he does with his hands.

  Not that I overlook what he does with his hands. His fingers trail softly up the gap in my thighs. I spread my legs slightly, anticipating his touch.

  I glance around the park to make sure we’re still alone, even though we always are. Still, we tend to move quick here, just in case. Not that my body needs it. It seems I’m always ready for him, whether he spends the time on foreplay or not.

  As he works his way up my inner thighs, I reach for him too. Two can play this game. When I find him, I squeeze his hard shaft under the thick fabric of his jeans and make him groan.

  His fingertips reach the top of my thigh, making the tender skin there tremble. He expertly tucks his fingers underneath the fabric of my panties and dips into me to get my moisture. I exhale shakily and his mouth starts moving down my neck, suckling on my skin along the way. His wet fingertips slide over my hard bud and I moan.

  Rubbing his slick fingers over me, he leaves my neck and bends down toward my mound. Taking one last glance around, I lean the seat back and rearrange to give him better access. Head between my legs, he pulls back the crotch of my panties and starts to lick me. No longer able to reach his cock, I settle for grabbing his hair and rocking my hips.

  His hands firmly rub up my inner thighs, spreading me further and gently pressing my knees open. I’m panting and trying not to make any noise. Even though I find the risk of the park exciting, I’m not going to tempt fate by being loud. But the way he’s working me is sending me into that place that isn’t as cautious as it should be.

  “Erik,” I whisper, pushing his head harder into me and arching my hips up more. “God, yes.”

  He slides one hand under my shirt and pulls my bra aside so he can fondle my bare nipple.

  I spread myself as much as I can. The restrictive space in the car only seems to heighten my pleasure as I long to open wider but am hemmed in. I’m so wet I can feel the juices coming out of me. He dips his tongue down to lap it up and I tremble with the unexpected pleasure of it. He returns to my swollen bud, bringing me closer and closer to the edge.

  Still squeezing my breast with one hand, he slides a finger inside me and bends it against my wall. That gives me a shock of ecstasy so sharp, my whole body curls hard inward and I’m forced to stifle a cry.

  Then another. And another as he works now two fingers inside me. My legs begin to tremble then my body bursts into an orgasm. I let out an extended, muffled whimper as I contract again and again. Pleasure bursts outward from my core in powerful waves. I throw my head back against the seat and arch my back. Even though I’m thrashing a bit, his mouth stays right with me.

  He stretches my orgasm out for so long I almost think I can’t take it anymore. He lifts up and pulls out his fingers quickly. He’s learned this abrupt ending only makes me want it all over again, but this time with his cock.

  Tonight is no exception. My core starts to ache.

  His eyes meet mine and we watch each other hungrily as he sits back in his seat to release his bulging dick from his pants. He glances around, checking to make sure the coast is still clear, and I slide my panties off. He opens the glove box to retrieve a condom from his stash there.

  “Fuck.”

  I raise my eyebrows. “Don’t tell me we’re out.” But now I remember the last time we were here, we’d used the last one.

  His head drops. “Shit.”

  Yeah, that’s about how I feel. I want him inside me so badly I can’t hardly think straight. “Just pull out early.” I tug on his shoulder. “Come on.”

  We’ve done that before, and even though we both know sperm can be present before a guy ejaculates, it’s only a tiny bit and this has always worked for us in the past. It’s not the first time we’ve had to improvise. We both like it better when he can come inside me, but it’s better than nothing. Besides, it feels so good when it’s just him. If I’m judging him correctly, he doesn’t want to wait any more than I do.

  Sure enough, he closes the glove box firmly and starts to climb on. We arrange ourselves quickly, well knowing how to make things work in his car, and before I know it, he’s pounding me eagerly. If anyone were to walk by, there’d be no hiding his bare ass and my feet in the air, but I don’t care. I’m so hot for him and he’s so hard for me, I know we won’t be in such a compromising position for long.

  I grab his tight ass and squeeze him firmly as he rams his shaft into my wet center.

  “That’s right baby,” he whispers thickly. His breath is hot on my ear. “Take that cock.”

  The ecstasy growing between my legs only intensifies when he talks to me like that. I’m already nearing my peak. As he thrusts me, his pelvis hits my clit. I get that burst of pleasure at the same time he’s deep and full in me. I angle up to meet him just a bit more and now his sack is hitting my anus. With the entire area down there flooded with pleasure, I’m almost going over again.

  “I’m so close,” he says. I already know. His cock is reaching its peak of hardness and stretching me completely.

  “Me too,” I gasp out, and then with two more powerful thrusts and slaps of pleasure on every part of me I could want touched, I’m done for. I tuck my head into his neck and
cry out as I climax again. I try to soften my cries but he’s continuing to come at me and I’m in a frenzy. I contract around his hard shaft, and my body convulses with ecstasy. I dig my nails slightly into his back and he groans with the pleasure of it. I realize I’m not helping him hold off until I’m done. He manages it though.

  I ride wave after wave, and at last I start to release and come back down. Only when my aftershocks are done and I’m starting to feel the glow of satisfaction does he pull out in a rush. I quickly grab the head of his cock just as he spills all over the seat. Thank god they’re leather. I stroke him firmly, loving the feel of him pulsing in my hand and the sound of his deep groans rumbling in my ear.

  When it’s over and he drops his weight on me, I kiss his cheek and hold him tightly. He kisses my collarbone tenderly. “I love you, Ashley.”

  “I love you, too.” I lightly slap his bare cheek. “And your sexy ass.”

  He laughs and gives me one last kiss before we clean up, put ourselves together, and finally head for home.

  A couple weeks later, I slowly cross Erik’s backyard, listening to him improvise on the piano. We started improvising a few months back, when on impulse I played a song that had been lilting around in my head. I’d done that several times on the piano at school, but only when I was alone. There always seems to be some sort of song in my head, my own “compositions” Erik calls them. Maybe, maybe not. In any case, the first time I improvised in front of him, he’d been stunned to hear me come up with something so nice on the fly. He got really excited and started praising me in that crazy way that makes me feel uncomfortable, just like when he saw me sight read for the first time. I don’t know why that kind of thing makes me mad. I really don’t. But he backed off quickly.

  Anyway, it’s not a big deal, because when he tried it, we discovered he wasn’t bad at improvising either. He seems to struggle with it on his own for some reason. I hear that fumbling in the song he’s playing now. But when we play together, we somehow feed off of each other and it all seems to click.