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“Hey, check out who’s here.”
I’m mid-sip into my second beer of the evening, but I shoot a sidelong glance at Steve Harrington, the host of the party, and the guy who asked the question. He sits next to me in a pool chair and points across the backyard, over the heads of our drunk and stoned classmates on the other side of the pool. I swallow and put my beer bottle down to follow his gaze, until I notice a familiar guy with a head of long dark hair, and briefly lock eyes with him.
Eddie Munson.
My stomach clenches in excitement and anxiety, but I look away to glare at Steve, who chuckles.
“Your face is so red,” he teases with a shit-eating grin.
“Shut up,” I grumble, taking another sip of my beer. Surreptitiously, I glance around to see if I can spot Eddie again, but he’s disappeared into the masses.
It surprised me a little, how big this party is. Steve will attend any party he’s invited to, but has never been one to throw huge ragers himself. His get-togethers tend to be more mellow, low-key, though he hasn’t had one since fall of junior year. I didn’t know him very well at the time. I hardly knew anyone – I had been a brand new student then, just recently transplanted to Hawkins from Indianapolis after my parent’s divorce, and I’d still been trying to figure out where I fit into the hierarchy at school. I was shy and quiet, not getting invited to parties yet. Especially not one as intimate as the party that Steve had hosted that November.
To be fair, that was also when poor Barbara Holland had gone missing before getting exposed to those toxins and dying, so it was understandable that Steve hadn’t been in a huge hurry to throw another party.
He’s throwing one now, though. His parents are out of town, so we have the place to ourselves. When I say we, I mean the entire Hawkins High School Class of 1985. We turned our tassels around only a week ago, and already we feel high on life, new adults in this big wide world. Well…not so big and wide for some of us. Steve is sticking around here, in Hawkins, working a summer job at Scoops Ahoy, the ice cream parlor at the new Starcourt Mall until he figures out what the fuck he’s doing with his life. Not that I know what I want to do with mine either. I got into Indiana University, so come the fall I’ll be in Bloomington, studying…something. I’m not sure what yet, but I’m not too concerned. At least I’m getting out of here.
Unlike some super-super seniors I happen to know.
I make eye contact with him again, across the backyard, and I drop my gaze immediately in case he catches me staring. I’ve had it bad for Eddie ever since I moved to town. I have no idea why. He isn’t my usual type at all – at my old school, I’d always gone for the pretty, popular boys. Boys like Steve Harrington.
But Eddie…there’s something about him.
He plays guitar. He wears rings on his fingers and bands on his wrists. Tattoos pepper his arms and, I’m pretty sure, parts of his chest. He’s a relatively notorious drug dealer. He’s loud and cocky and nonconformist. And I’m completely crazy about him.
He’s at least a year older than me, maybe even two. He’d been a senior when I came to Hawkins as a junior, and he’d been a senior for a second time this year, with me. And it looks like he’ll be a senior again in the fall.
We had never shared a class. I was on an academic all-AP track and he was…not. And beyond that, we traveled in completely different social circles. I don’t know that I would have met him at all if I hadn’t accidentally walked in on a meeting of the Hellfire Club the first week of my junior year.
I remember that day clearer than anything. It wasn’t as though Hawkins High was a giant building, but I’d barely been going to school there for a week, and I didn’t know all the ins-and-outs yet. I’d been searching for the yearbook club after school one day, and I opened the wrong door.
In a dimly lit room, four confused faces stared back at me from a rectangular table. All guys around my own age, glaring at me as though I’d interrupted something of the utmost secrecy and importance. They all had a set of weirdly-shaped dice and several sheets of paper in front of them. They also each had a copy of what looked like a textbook, but I couldn’t see the covers. The guy at the head of the table, a metalhead with incredible hair who was sitting in an honest-to-God throne, had a long binder acting as a screen on the table in front of him. He looked at me quizzically.
I’d blushed, as I often do when I’m nervous or uncomfortable. “Um…” I squeaked, humiliated. “This isn’t…the yearbook club, is it?”
One of the boys around the table snorted a chuckle and glanced towards his seat neighbor with an expression that said can you believe this chick?
Hair-Metal Guy at the end of the table was nicer. With a sly, bemused smile, he said, “No, angel, this is the Hellfire Club.”
I’d felt my cheeks grow warmer. Angel. I was too taken aback by the nickname to ask what on God’s green earth the Hellfire Club was. Instead I shifted my weight in the doorway.
“Oh,” I mumbled, looking down to turn away, embarrassed, wanting to get out of there as quickly as I could. “Um…sorry to bother you.” I shut the door behind me and sped-walked down the hall.
Not five steps into my journey, I’d heard the door open and shut again, a pair of feet trotting behind me. “Hey, wait up!”
I turned. It was Hair-Metal Guy. He flashed me a grin and my heart stuttered.
“Sorry about them,” he’d said, jerking a thumb back towards the room we’d just left. “We don’t usually get interrupted like that. We were just…surprised. I hope we didn’t make you too nervous.”
I’d shaken my head. “N-no of course not,” I stammered. “I’m sorry I interrupted your…” I hesitated, realizing I didn’t know what it was I’d actually interrupted. “Meeting?” I ventured.
He smiled wider, the corners of his eyes crinkling, and my heart just about stopped.
“I can walk you to the yearbook room,” he offered. “It’s not far.”
I bit my lip in consideration. “Don’t they need you?” I indicated the door behind us with my head. I didn’t know what they were doing, but this guy was clearly their leader. I was sure he needed to get back to the Hellfire Club, and didn’t want to take him away from it, however briefly.
But he’d been the one to shake his head this time. “The room’s not that far away,” he repeated. “They’ll live.”
So I let him walk me to the yearbook room. And he was right – it was not a long journey at all. Not nearly long enough for me, anyway. We had just enough time to cover the basics. He gave me his name – Eddie Munson – and I gave him mine. He asked me if I was new, which I affirmed.
“That’s why I’m doing this,” I said, gesturing somewhere in the distance, in the direction the yearbook room would be. “I figure there’s no better way to get to know your new classmates than to literally put names to faces in the yearbook.”
He nodded. “Doing recon. Smart of you,” he said with a chuckle. My stomach flipped at the beautiful sound of his laughter.
Once I’d gotten control of my nerves again, I cleared my throat. “So…what’s the Hellfire Club?” I asked, glancing sideways at Eddie.
If I’d thought his smile had been big before, it was downright enormous now. He looked like a goddamn sunbeam, the way he lit up when I asked that question. I nearly swooned.
He talked about Hellfire for the rest of the short walk down the hall. It turned out to be a club for some game I’d never heard of called Dungeons and Dragons, and he tried to explain the rules to me. It sounded fantastical and convoluted, with a lot of math involved, and if I’m being honest, it mostly went in one ear and out the other for me. But I could have listened to him talk about it all day, he was so passionate.
Eddie had just been getting to an in-depth explanation about J.R.R. Tolkien and why something called a Halfling couldn’t be called a Hobbit, when we suddenly stopped in front of a classroom door. He looked up, as though surprised by where our feet had taken us. “Oh,” he said. “We’re here.” He looked at me sheepishly. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to talk your ear off about D&D this whole time.”
I shook my head. Shot him a nervous grin. “Don’t worry about it,” I replied.
“Next time I’ll let you do all the talking, how about that?” He smiled at me, almost timid.
My entire face glowed at the idea of a next time . “I’ll…hold you to that,” I said softly. With reluctance, I dragged my gaze from his to put my hand on the classroom doorknob. “Thanks for walking me down.”
“Happy to oblige.” Eddie held out his hand for me to shake. “Welcome to Hawkins. Nice to meet you.”
I took his hand. It was comfortably warm, whereas mine was clammy with nerves. “It was nice to meet you too, Eddie.”
He’d given an awkward but charming little bow before he turned away to head back down the hall, and that was it for me. I was a goner.
Unfortunately, there never was a next time. It wasn’t long after we met that I was eventually adopted into a circle of friends – popular people, like Steve and Tina and Carol and Tommy H – and learned how the rest of my classmates at Hawkins High felt about Eddie Munson and the Hellfire Club. To the general student population they were losers, weirdos. The word freak was thrown around on more than one occasion, usually in reference to Eddie. But I knew better. Sure he seemed a little rough around the edges, with his dark hair and gothic tattoos and cavalier attitude, but he’d been friendly to me. Sweet and welcoming. And I found him just…ridiculously hot.
I’d see Eddie from afar sometimes, in the hallway on the way to class. Or across the cafeteria making a funny, yet disruptive scene. I don’t think he remembered our conversation from the fall. He hardly ever noticed me. On the rare occasion that we made eye contact, there was no exchange of hellos or conversation of any kind. It was always just polite smiles and nods, nothing more. A few times I’d run into him as he was walking down the hall and I was coming out of a classroom or going into the library. He’d always stop and make a little gesture for me to go first, and I would blush as I did so, murmuring a quiet word of thanks.
He was the subject of my daydreams all year long. I’d imagine holding his hand, going out with him to see live music shows, or cuddling with him on my couch, his arms wrapped around me as we watched movies. There were more explicit fantasies, too – him above me, under me, inside me, hands and mouth all over my body. I couldn’t get him out of my head.
When senior year started, I was determined to stop caring about what my friends thought and just bite the bullet with Eddie. I was still crazy about him, and wanted to get to know him better. But I was too shy, too nervous, to ever approach him at school. More than once, I chickened out midway through an approach, and he definitely saw me do an about face as I walked towards, and then away from him. But I just couldn’t muster up the courage. Eventually, he stopped noticing me all together. He’d look right through me, it seemed, when I’d glimpse him in the hall.
It devastated me. But I never stopped dreaming of him.
Only one person knew about my secret mega-crush on Eddie – Steve Harrington. We had become close, and I considered him one of my best friends. But I didn’t tell him until that winter, after Nancy Wheeler left him for Jonathan Byers.
“It just…sucks,” he’d said. He’d come over to my place after dropping some kid he knew at a middle school dance, and told me about seeing Nancy and Jonathan chaperoning. “It sucks to want someone who doesn’t want you.”
I knew all too well how that felt.
I guess I was feeling a little sorry for myself, and for Steve, so in the spirit of heartbreak camaraderie, I told him about my feelings for Eddie. He’d been surprised (“Wait, that freak?”) but he’d been a good listener otherwise. I hadn’t meant to get emotional about it, but we’d been drinking and feeling vulnerable.
“At least Nancy knows you exist,” I’d mumbled dejectedly at the end of my saga. “I don’t think Eddie even knows I’m alive let alone remembers me from that one conversation we had last year.” I sighed, and gave a nervous laugh. “Sorry, I know it’s stupid. I don’t mean to be so…”
“Don’t apologize,” Steve had said, leaning into me. “It’s his loss he doesn’t know you.”
We were there for each other. In more ways than one.
Steve and I hooked up a couple times during the last semester of senior year. There were no strings. We were very frank with each other about our motivations. He was hurting and I was trying to get my confidence up.
But now it’s summer, and I’ve graduated, and not much has changed at all. Steve’s still hung up on Nancy – though he won’t admit it to anyone, including me – and I’m still too nervous to even talk to Eddie. So seeing him here, at this party, is nerve-wracking to say the least.
Steve sighs, as though lamenting. “We should give him a show,” he murmurs, almost to himself. “Make him jealous.”
I roll my eyes. Steve has never understood why I’m so head-over-heels for Eddie, and he loves to tease me about it, but he’s also always encouraged me. This isn’t the first time he’s made a comment like this, about using our friends-with-benefits relationship to our advantage. But even if Steve yanked up the skirt of my dress, tugged my panties aside, and fucked me on this pool chair, I doubt Eddie would notice.
I finish my beer and put the bottle on the concrete ground. Leaning into the buzz in my head, I allow myself to imagine that scenario, Eddie watching me and Steve, mid-coitus. It makes me squirm a little, in a deliciously dirty way. Unable to help myself, I search the backyard for Eddie again, and see him nearby handing some guy a small baggie of weed, and pocketing the cash. When he looks up, he sees me.
In a rush of boldness from the alcohol, I smile and give him a tiny wave.
He looks a bit stunned for a moment before hesitantly returning my grin. Then he waves back.
He waves back.
My heart thrills at the acknowledgement and I duck my head as embarrassment finally overtakes me.
Steve has seen this whole interaction. “That wasn’t so hard, was it?” he murmurs, finishing his own beer.
“Shut up,” I say again, but with a smile this time.
Steve glances between me and Eddie, and an idea seems to overtake him. I can tell from the way his eyes are glinting. “You ever smoke weed before?” he asks suddenly.
I stare at him. “Excuse me?” I say with an incredulous laugh.
“You know what, I’ll be right back.” He stands up and walks over to Eddie before I even begin to process what’s happening.
“Wha–? Wait! Steve!” I hiss, but of course he can’t hear me, he’s already gone. Blushing furiously, I stare into nothing and watch Steve and Eddie talk in my peripheral vision. I can’t hear what they’re saying, but Steve is gesturing towards me. Eddie keeps shifting his gaze between us. I flame under his eyes, heat seeming to radiate out of every particle of my skin. A few minutes later, they both come back to where I’m sitting, Steve stopping at the nearby cooler to fish a few beers out of the ice. Eddie himself pulls up another pool chair and drags it over next to mine.
I clench my fists around the short hem of my dress and force myself not to stare at his face, his sharp jawline, his full lips. My gaze lands somewhere closer to his knees, which I can see clearly through the rips of his dark jeans. My stomach twists longingly.
“Hey there,” he says, leaning back into the pool chair with a sense of ease and grace.
He’s talking to me.
I blink. Look up at him. Find my voice. “Hi, Eddie.” I speak so softly, it’s a wonder he hears me at all.
He crinkles his eyes in a grin. My heart does a somersault.
Steve plops down in his seat, handing me and Eddie each a beer as he does so. “You want to smoke some weed?” he asks me, cracking open the final beer for himself.
I peek over at Eddie, sitting lazily in the pool chair, sipping his beer, that slight smile still on his face. I swallow, glancing quickly back at Steve. He gives me a very subtle nod of encouragement, and I turn back to Eddie.
“I uh…” My voice is weak, so I clear my throat and try again. “Sure, I’d like to try. But um…I’ve never…I’ve never done it before. I don’t know how.”
There’s something weirdly virginal about this statement that causes my face to heat up. I open my beer and study it intently, tracing my finger around the rim.
“It’s easy,” Eddie promises, pulling a baggie and a small square of paper out of one of the pockets of his leather jacket. How is he wearing that thing right now, especially with that denim vest on top? Summer nights in Hawkins are always a million degrees. I’m sweating in my short, simple dress. Though that may be more due to the fact that Eddie is now carefully assembling the joint, tongue darting out to lick the edge of the paper, fingers dexterously rolling it up. I imagine, not for the first time, what else he could do with that tongue and those fingers, how he could completely ruin me with them.
My breath catches and I look away, squeezing my legs together.
Steve gestures towards me, as though suddenly remembering. “Have you met before?” he asks Eddie, as though he’s not sure. “Sorry, that’s rude of me. This is my friend –”
But Eddie interrupts, saying my name before Steve has a chance. “Yeah, yeah,” he replies. “I think we met last year, right? Or…maybe the year before that, I guess.”
Butterflies erupt in my chest and my stomach. The fact that he not only remembers our meeting, but also remembers my name thrills me to my core. I can’t help the smile that overtakes my face as I finally look at him fully. I’m sure my cheeks are tinged pink.
“Yeah, first semester of my junior year,” I agree, nodding. “After school. You walked me to the yearbook club and taught me about Dungeons and Dragons.”
His grin grows wider. “That’s right, I remember,” he says, chuckling. He finishes rolling the joint and hands it to me. Our fingers touch when I take it and I swear an electric current travels all the way down from my arm to my spine.
“Now what?” I ask, rather dumbly. I’m in such a fog of nervous excitement that I can’t think properly about what comes next.
Eddie smiles. Wets his lips. I might die.
“Put it in your mouth,” he says quietly.
Yep. I’m dying.
He models with his fingers how I should hold the joint, and I copy him. As I put the filter end to my lips, he reaches back into his pocket and pulls out a silver lighter. He motions for me to lean closer to him, and I do. I can feel the faint heat of the flame as Eddie holds the lighter up.
“When I light it,” he tells me, eyes never leaving mine. “You’ll want to suck in lightly, like a straw.”
This might be the most sensual moment of my entire life. And I’ve fucked Steve “The Hair” Harrington.
I do as Eddie says, holding the smoke in my lungs for a few seconds before blowing it out slowly. I cough a little, peering nervously at him.
He just grins proudly with a slight nod. “You’re a natural,” he tells me.
I glow.
Steve holds out his hand for the joint. I honestly forgot he was still here. I pass it to him and he puffs. The three of us sit around in that triangle next to the pool, passing the joint between us. I feel my head get pleasantly lighter with every hit I take.
After a few rounds, Steve speaks to Eddie. “So Dungeons and Dragons, huh?”
Eddie rolls his eyes. “What about it, Harrington?”
Steve holds up his hands in defense. “Nothing, man. I just know a few kids who play. They’ll be freshmen in the fall. I bet they’ll join your club if you ask them.”
Eddie looks skeptical. “Oh yeah? Who are they?” he asks.
Steve rattles off a few names, including Nancy’s and Jonathan’s younger brothers, and takes the joint as I pass it to him.
Eddie clearly doesn’t know these kids, but he nods anyway. “I’ll keep an eye out for them,” he says, leaning back in the chair. “So you know some kids who play, but you don’t play yourself, huh?”
Steve takes a drag from the joint. “I don’t really know anything about it,” he replies.
“It’s a very complicated game,” I speak up, taking a sip of my drink. Between three beers and the weed, my anxiety has completely dissolved. I’m not nearly so nervous anymore. “Lots of math and fantasy creatures. From what I remember of my brief crash-course.” I dare a glance at Eddie, and discover he’s staring at me with a mix of curiosity and admiration. My heart swells at his attention, and I feel my face go warm.
Steve must be feeling cheeky because as he gets this look in his eye.
“Speaking of games,” he says, passing Eddie the joint and nudging my leg with his foot. “You wanna know my favorite game to play with her?”
Eddie, looking intrigued, takes one last drag before stubbing out the roach on the concrete ground. He flashes his obsidian eyes towards me again. I don’t blush this time, but I shift a little under his gaze.
“I do like games,” Eddie says, voice low.
Why the hell does that sentence shoot a jolt of electricity into my core?
Steve smirks and puts his hand on my knee.
I jump before I can stop myself. Eddie’s eyes widen slightly.
“It’s a real simple game,” says Steve slowly. “You sit like this –” He moves so that he’s facing me. Pushes our chairs close together. Slots my leg between both of his knees. “ – and slowly move your hand up her thigh.” Steve is still smirking as he lightly brushes over my kneecap.
I know exactly what he’s doing. Honestly, I like this game, too. We would play it sometimes when we were out with people like Carol and Tommy H. But I’ve never played it in the middle of a party, with dozens of people around. I’ve certainly never played it in front of anyone I had actual feelings for. Anyone I’d fantasized about for almost two years.
It lights a fire in my belly.
“The goal,” Steve says, lightly tracing my kneecap with his fingertips. “Is to see who gets too nervous and pulls their leg away first.”
Eddie swallows, eyes never leaving Steve’s hand on my leg. I focus on Steve, but I’m hyper aware of Eddie’s gaze on me, and it’s so fucking hot, I can feel arousal pooling straight into my center.
Steve flashes me a grin. “Your turn, princess.”
Under Eddie’s watchful eye, I gently place my hand on Steve’s leg, slightly higher than where his hand is on mine. “Are you nervous yet?” I ask him, my voice soft but confident.
Steve shakes his head and crawls his hand further up my thigh. “Are you?”
I am, a bit, but Eddie is watching us so closely, eyes intense, elbows on his knees, thumb worrying over his lower lip. I don’t think he’s aware of how he’s reacting. And for some reason, it’s really turning me on.
Instead of responding to Steve’s question, I move my hand further up his leg, brushing a spot on his upper thigh that I know drives him wild. He shudders under my touch, even through his jeans.
“You’re not going to beat me,” he mutters, eyes like liquid gold. He glances over his shoulder to speak to Eddie. “Watch this,” he tells him.
Steve gently walks his fingers right up to the hemline of my dress. “Nervous now?” he asks. His light fingers send ticklish and erotic convulsions straight to my core. It’s too much and with a quiet yelp, I finally pull away.
“Shit,” I curse as Steve chuckles triumphantly and Eddie blinks, as though coming back into himself. His throat bobs a few times.
“See?” Steve says to Eddie. “Hot, right?”
Eddie gulps. “Yeah,” he says hoarsely. He looks a little awestruck, like he can’t quite believe what just happened.
I can’t quite believe it myself. Nor can I quite believe how aroused it made me, how horny I feel now. Who would have thought that a shy girl like me would have an exhibitionist side?
Steve scoots back, taking a sip of his beer, and gestures towards me. “You two should play.”
Eddie and I glance at each other nervously, and I realize that this has been Steve’s intent the whole time. He was playing the long game, trying to get me all hot and bothered so that by the time he was done with me, I’d be dying for Eddie’s touch, consequences be damned.
Oh Harrington, you sly dog.
“I’ll play again,” I say, my voice the same timbre as before. I know I would never be this bold without the weed, making my brain fuzzy and my words certain. I look into Eddie’s face. “If you’re up for it.” Just the thought of his calloused fingers moving steadily up my bare thigh sends another surge of arousal through me.
Eddie blinks rapidly and clears his throat, as though trying to collect himself. When he does, he leans forward, his smile sexy and confident. “Oh I’m up for it, sweetheart.”
This image, him leaning towards me, grinning seductively, calling me sweetheart, is the exact memory I’ll be using in my masturbatory fantasies for the rest of my life, I’m sure of it.
We scoot our chairs closer, facing each other as Steve and I had done. Eddie locks my bare knee with both of his jean-clad legs. I swear I can feel heat radiating from them. Eddie’s brows are knitted together in tension or arousal – possibly both.
Still feeling brave, I decide to get things going.
With cautious sensitivity, I place my hand on top of his knee, touching him directly through the rips of his jeans. I can feel small pinpricks of leg hair under my fingertips as I lightly graze my hand over the skin. He wets his lips again. It turns me on so much, I feel my nipples perking up beneath my bra.
I’m feeling bold. Confident. “Am I making you nervous?” I murmur, voice gentle.
Eddie breathes shallowly, then swallows. Eyes never leaving mine, he puts his hand on my bare knee, slowly stretching his fingers out. Involuntarily, I gasp at his touch.
Eddie grins wickedly at my reaction. “Baby, you couldn’t make me nervous if you straddled my face.”
Ho. Ly. Shit.
There’s another visual I’ll hold onto for the rest of my days. Not just Eddie’s erotic expression as he said it, but the sentence itself. My mind immediately catapults me into that fantasy. Blood rushes up to my face, heating my cheeks and staining them what I’m sure is a very embarrassing scarlet color.
This is why I can’t flirt. Invariably it’ll get turned around on me and I’ll just end up shy and blushing once again.
But I don’t want to lose this game. I’m not ready for Eddie to take his hand away from me. So I bite my lip, steeling myself, but instead of moving my entire hand further up his thigh, I sneak two of my fingers into the large tear at his knee, and stretch them in as far as they’ll go.
His eyes widen, breath quickening, smirk gone. Like he’s amazed my fingers are touching him.
“Ooh, this got interesting,” says Steve’s voice very softly on my other side. Once more, I’ve completely forgotten that he’s here, and grant him a quick glance before locking eyes with Eddie again.
He’s as flushed as I am now, but still has a determined look in his eye. He moves his entire hand up, but instead of staying on the top of my leg, he moves it down to the inside of my thigh.
I shudder out something like a whine. He’s using his left hand, which means I can feel his three cool metal rings on my warm, sudoric skin. My arousal pools in my panties, but I can’t squeeze my legs together for any relief now that Eddie’s fingers are smoothly moving back and forth on my inner thigh. I shift in my seat desperately trying to relieve some of the tension that I feel.
I’m reluctant to remove my hand from his skin, but I do. My fingers retreat from the hole in his knee, and walk further up his leg. I move my hand so that it, like his, is on the inside of his thigh. My fingers trace along the inner seam of his dark jeans.
He exhales a few shivery gasps, and I notice that there’s a bulge in his pants now, or maybe there always had been and I’m only just now realizing. Regardless, I have clear, visual evidence that he’s just as turned on as I am.
My heart is pounding with this knowledge.
I reluctantly wrench my gaze away from his arousal to look instead at his face. His eyes are blown wide, mouth slightly agape, and his free hand is clenching and unclenching on the arm of the pool chair.
I think he’s going to give up, though I don’t want him to. I could live with Eddie’s gentle hand between my legs, his fingers softly brushing my inner thigh like this.
But then he surprises me. Slowly, agonizingly slowly, Eddie spiders his hand up the inside of my thigh until it’s just under the hemline of my dress, and traces along my skin with his index finger. The sensation causes thunderbolts of desire to shoot through my every blood vessel, and it’s so tender but so provocative, and too much for my already hyper-sensitive body to handle.
I jerk my chair back, away from those delicious, wandering fingers. But I’m so frenzied that the chair tips back, and my stomach drops out from under me as I realize I’m falling. I hardly have time to shout before I plunge backwards into the swimming pool with a splash. Seconds later, I splutter to the surface, clearing my hair from my face and blinking away chlorine.
When I first open my eyes, everything is a bit blurry as my sight adjusts. When I can see clearly, I notice I’m facing the opposite side of the pool – I must have gotten turned around in the brief seconds that I was underwater – and many of my former classmates are staring at me in startled delight. Several of them are laughing. A few boys go “oooooh,” and I hear Billy Hargrove shout, “Drunk bitch!”
My cheeks burn.
Behind me, I hear another voice, calling my name. I turn. Steve is there, looking confused and worried, kneeling over the lip of the pool with his hand stretched out to me. Eddie is standing a few feet behind him, anxious and shocked. I look away from him, embarrassed as hell.
This is, without a doubt, the most humiliated I’ve ever been.
Pinching my lips together, I gather my shoes, which are floating nearby, and reach out for Steve’s hand to let him gently help me out of the pool.
“Holy shit, are you all right?” he asks, rubbing up and down my arms. I’m soaked from head to toe, my hair dripping pool water onto the concrete and my dress clinging wetly to my body. Though the night is warm, my brief stint in the water has me shivering. Or maybe it’s knowing that everyone’s eyes are on me.
“I-I’m fine,” I stammer, dropping my ruined shoes to the ground, hands clutching the hem of my dress to wring it out. “Just…I want to dry off.”
Steve nods. “Yeah, yeah, definitely. Uh, here, let’s get you inside, we’ll find you a towel and some dry clo–”
“Hey, here you go.” A girl’s voice interrupts us. We turn to see one of our other former classmates, Samantha Stone. And God bless her, she’s holding a striped towel out to me.
“Oh, thank you,” I sigh, taking it gratefully in both hands. I use it to dry my face before wrapping it around my shivering frame. Already feeling better now that I’m starting to dry off, I finally dare a glance over at Eddie. He’s staring at the ground now, looking…ashamed?
“No problem. That was quite a spill,” Samantha says. She looks at me kindly before glancing at Steve. “I just wanted to let you know that Tommy H. is puking his guts out in your mom’s rhododendron.”
Steve groans. “That goddamn piece of shit,” he mutters. He looks at me apologetically.
“You deal with that,” I tell him. “I can take care of…this.” I gesture down at my wet outfit and dripping bare legs.
Steve frowns thoughtfully, seeming reluctant. “Hey, Munson,” he calls. Eddie looks up, dark eyes questioning. “Take her inside for me, will ya? Get her into some dry clothes – anything from my room, all right?”
A cloud crosses over Eddie’s face, so brief I hardly notice. “Yeah,” he replies after a moment. “Yeah, yeah, sure. I can do that.”
He looks at me, wets his lips again, and gestures for me to lead the way. It reminds me of those times he’d let me pass him in the hall, and I involuntarily curl my toes. How is it that even after I accidentally tumble into a pool, this man can still get me all riled up with just a look?
On shaky legs, I walk past Eddie, my bare feet padding up the walkway into the house. He follows closely, but I’m too shy to turn around. I wrap the towel more tightly around my shoulders and scamper through Steve’s house on autopilot. I’ve been here so many times, I know exactly where I’m going.
When I reach the top of the stairs, Eddie clears his throat behind me. I stop on the landing and finally turn to look at him. He stands a few steps below, looking sheepish, and it makes my heart swell with affection for him.
“Are you…okay?” he asks. His tone sounds guilty, though I can’t imagine what he would have to feel guilty about. It’s not his fault I couldn’t handle his sweet, gentle touches. I’m more upset at myself than anything, that the game had ended so early, before I’d been ready.
“Oh,” I say, blinking. “Oh, yeah, I’m fine. Just…a little wet.”
In more ways than one.
He shifts his weight. “You uh…come here often?” he asks, gesturing around. Then he flushes. “I mean…it just seems like you…know your way around.”
I bite my lip and shrug. “Steve and I are friends,” I mumble.
Eddie exhales. “Yeah. That much is obvious.”
I furrow my brow in confusion, and he looks away. Something has shifted, and I don’t think I like it. Not knowing what else to do, I turn back around and continue up the stairs. Eddie follows me into Steve’s room.
Well. Here I am. In my fuck-buddy’s bedroom with the boy of my dreams.
This is. So weird.
I unwrap the towel from around my body and attempt to pat my hair dry with it. I’m sure I look awful, probably with runny mascara and bloodshot chlorine eyes. I try to avoid my reflection in the mirror beside Steve’s bureau as I open the drawer where he keeps his T-shirts.
“You…want me to hold that?” Eddie offers, extending his hand for the towel.
I shoot him a nervous grin. “Thanks,” I say, passing it off. He takes it, holds it in both hands while I rifle through Steve’s dresser drawers.
But then Eddie speaks again. “I’m sorry!” It bursts out of him like a gunshot, like he’s been holding it in, and just can’t anymore.
I look up from the T-shirt I’ve chosen to gaze at him in confusion. “What…what are you sorry for?” I ask, bewildered.
Eddie shakes his head, waves a wild hand. “This.” He indicates my damp hair and clothes, then points out the window. “That. What happened out there. I…” He breaks off, apparently trying to choose his words. “I shouldn’t have done that, shouldn’t have played that stupid game, you were obviously uncomfortable, and I’m just…shit, I’m really fucking sorry.” He leans against the wall, closing his eyes and dropping the towel to the ground to cover his face with his hands.
Taken aback, I feel my eyes widen slightly. Obviously uncomfortable? “What are you talking about?” I ask, horribly confused.
Eddie exhales a mirthless laugh. “Come on,” he says, opening his eyes to look at me. “You fucking recoiled when I touched you.”
My face heats up. “I did not recoil,” I tell him. “I just…it was a reaction. It happened with Steve, too.”
“Oh, right,” Eddie mutters, pushing himself off from the wall to pace in front of the open door. “Sure. Whatever you say.”
“It did!” I exclaim hotly. “I pulled away from him, remember?”
Eddie shakes his head again. “Not like you did with me,” he murmurs. “I mean yeah, you pulled your leg away from Harrington, but you were in such a damn hurry to get away from me that you did a fucking backflip into the pool.” He sighs, looking away. “Look, I know you’re with Harrington and that’s…not my business, I shouldn’t have gotten in the middle, shouldn’t have risen to his bait. That’s on me. This whole night…” He sighs. “It’s my fault. I’m really sorry.”
My heart is pounding in my chest, in my ears. He’s got this all wrong. “Eddie, that’s not…true,” I squeak. But I can’t bring myself to say any more. I’m feeling much more sober now, and all the bravery I felt outside must have been washed away by my dunk in the pool.
Eddie just sighs again. “Listen, you don’t have to placate me, alright?” he says. “I get it, I’m a loser, a weirdo. A freak. Girls like you don’t go for guys like me.”
There’s an intense buzzing in my brain. He is so off the money, and he looks so miserable I just want to wrap my arms around him. But all I can do is shake my head.
He exhales once more and glances at the T-shirt that I have clutched in my hands. “I’ll let you get dressed,” he says, turning to go.
I don’t want him to leave. I want him to stay. I need him to stay, so I can make him understand. “Eddie, wait!” I dart in front of him, blocking his path and closing the door, shutting us both inside Steve’s room.
He raises his eyebrows quizzically. “What are you doing?” he asks.
“I’m not with Steve,” I begin. “I never was. I mean we…we hooked up a couple times, but that’s it, it never meant anything. To either of us. Not like…” I pause, words failing me.
Eddie waits for me to continue. When I don’t, he speaks again. “Not like…what?” he asks, his breath catching.
I cannot make myself say the words. Like this. I cannot bring my voice to speak my feelings into reality. Even the notion of it roasts me alive in embarrassment. So instead I take a deep breath. “Let’s play again,” I hear myself say.
Eddie’s stunned eyes grow wider. “Wh…wh-what?” he stammers, disbelief apparent in his voice.
“Let’s play the game again,” I repeat. It’s the only way I can think to show him how I feel without actually having to say the words out loud. Besides, the memory of his fingers on my leg is still branded on my brain, and I’m already aching to feel them again. I need his touch on me.
“Please,” I whisper.
Eddie blinks rapidly, Adam’s apple bobbing. “I…” he murmurs.
He towers over me, so tall and lean, like a beautiful Adonis. I put my hand on the top of his thigh, and he inhales sharply but doesn’t pull away.
I won’t do this if he’s uncomfortable. “Are you nervous?” I ask, my voice quiet.
He looks down at my hand, then back at my face. “A little,” he admits.
He’s always seemed so brash, fearless. Confident. I remember that smirk from the day I walked into the Hellfire Club, the way he would strut around the cafeteria with a devil-may-care attitude. Hell, even just ten minutes ago, that smoldering look he gave me as he said “You couldn’t make me nervous if you straddled my face.” So different from how he seems now. Shy, uncertain. Utterly out of his element. It makes me wonder if all the bravado he’s displayed up to now was just an act, a front. And if so, then it means that the way I’m seeing him now – hesitant, insecure, nervous – is the way Eddie feels all the time.
It humanizes him. But it also breaks my heart a little.
“I can stop,” I offer.
Eddie shakes his head. Wets his lips. God that drives me crazy. “I don’t want you to,” he whispers.
We’re still standing with my back to the door. Very gently, he takes a step towards me so I’m forced to lean back against it fully. Only then does he reach for me, placing his hand on my leg, over my damp dress. I subtly shift my weight to lean into him.
He fingers the wet material of my dress and frowns. “You really should change into dry clothes,” he says, voice low.
I nod. “Okay.” With a sudden rush of courage, I reach for the hem of my dress, to pull it over my head.
“Whoa, whoa!” Eddie stops me, placing his hands on my arms. His eyes wide, face flushed. “You don’t have to…I mean, I-I…I can leave the room.”
I blink at him. “I don’t want you to,” I echo.
Before I can second-guess myself, I yank my dress up fluidly and discard it on the floor next to the rumpled towel.
I stand there before Eddie, his dark eyes like saucers as they take in my half-naked figure. My face, my whole body, burns under his gaze. He hisses my name, along with a whispered Jesus Christ before rubbing his hand over the lower part of his face.
I’m nervous as hell, but so turned on by the way he’s looking at me, my body feels like it’s vibrating. I want him, need him to touch me. Taking his hand, I carefully put it on my bare waist. His breath hitches and he murmurs my name again.
I slowly walk him backwards until he’s sitting on the edge of Harrington’s bed. Straddling one of his legs, I put my hands on his shoulders to help him shrug off his denim vest and leather jacket. “Is this okay?” I ask quietly. Eddie nods, throat bobbing, eyes huge, that damn tongue darting out to wet his lips again. Involuntarily, I grind my aching center against his thigh, and he groans.
“Holy fuck.” His voice is hoarse, needy. Knowing he wants this as badly as I do causes courage to rise in my chest. I move his hand from my waist up towards my chest, helping his fingers sneak beneath the underwire of my bra.
This time, Eddie says my name with a gasp, and closes his eyes as his fingertips make contact with my breast. I close my eyes too, just for a second, as I reach behind me to unclasp my bra, shrugging it down my shoulders and tossing it aside so his hand can fully envelop me. When I open my eyes, he’s staring at me, his gaze soft and unbelieving.
“Christ,” he murmurs, moving his hand along the curves, tracing my already hardening nipple with his fingers. I throw my head back with a gentle moan, needing more. I show him what I want, taking his thumb and index finger and rolling my nipple between them. His breath becomes shallow, watching me use his fingers to pinch my own nipples into stiff peaks. “God you’re so fucking pretty.” His other hand moves gently around my waist, holding me close.
I’m desperate to touch him, but he has so many clothes on. Shirt, jeans, underwear, even shoes and socks, whereas I’m just in my panties. I tug at the collar of his Hellfire Club shirt. “Can I…?” My voice is a whine of desire.
Eddie briefly lets go of me to wrench the shirt over his head, tossing it somewhere inconsequential, and my eyes are free to roam his naked chest at last. His torso is long and lean, a smattering of dark hair in the center of his chest that travels all the way down to his beltline. A guitar pick hangs on a short string around his neck, falling perfectly against the top of his sternum. Tattoos decorate his upper arms and travel across his chest along his collarbones. He’s just as hot, just as beautiful, as I thought he’d be. I’m absolutely salivating as my hands dance along his chest, delicately tracing the designs of his tattoos.
“Mmmph,” he moans, eyes closing at my touch. He squeezes my nipple between his thumb and forefinger, and I gasp. Everything feels so good, so hot. But I’m fucking insatiable. I want more. I need more.
“Eddie,” I whimper, pressing my forehead against his. “Will you…?” I hesitate. He looks at me, mouth slightly agape, eyes molten with the same desire I’m feeling. I exhale shakily. “...Kiss me."
His mouth is on mine so fast it’s like he’s been waiting for this request, like he’s been wanting to do this all night but didn’t dare until I asked. And now that I have…
Eddie tastes like beer and fire and salt, and I tangle my fingers in his dark curly hair in an attempt to bring myself closer to him. One of his hands cups my face, tracing my cheek gently with his thumb, and I fucking melt. I open my mouth to him and wait for his tongue to find mine. When it does, he groans into my mouth, and the feeling jolts a fresh burst of arousal through my core.
One of my hands drops from his hair to trace down his torso. My fingers brush against the patch of hair on his lower belly, just above his belt buckle. He gasps a laugh into my mouth and pulls away suddenly.
“Sorry,” he breathes, a small smile on his lips, still wet from kissing me. “Ticklish.”
I grin apologetically, moving both hands to his belt buckle. “Can I…?”
Eddie nods quickly, helping me to undo his pants. I shimmy off of him so he can pull down his jeans, yanking off his shoes and socks as he goes. I can see his arousal more clearly than ever now, his erection creating a tent of his underwear. I’m so wet, less now from my accidental dip in the pool than from my own throbbing pussy.
I lay down on the bed, pulling him along, allowing him to crawl over me. Placing his hand on the elastic band of my own soaked panties, moving two of his fingers beneath them.
He’s so worked up, so turned on, that I think he’s shaking. With my nod giving him permission, he slips his hand into my underwear fully, and I feel his fingers against my slickness.
I moan with wanton abandon, arching my back, grinding my aching pussy into his hand. He wets his lips again, watching me writhe beneath him, staring at his fingers moving in my panties. He’s circling my clit, and damn, I always imagined it would feel good to have Eddie Munson touch me like this, but I never imagined it could feel this good, like my whole body was on fire, and still wanting more.
“God, fuck,” I moan, looking at Eddie through a haze of hunger and lust. My ears are ringing, I can barely make out the fact that he’s speaking to me, under his breath. He’s so focused on my slick pussy, dragging his fingers slowly up and down my slit, perfectly teasing, just missing where I need him the most, I don’t think he’s even aware that his mouth is moving at all.
“Jesus Christ, you’re beautiful,” he’s saying. His hips are grinding into the mattress, and again I think it must be involuntary, from how intense his gaze is on me. “ So damn beautiful, how the hell are you this pretty? A perfect fucking angel, look at you. Fuck. Holy God, the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.”
I’m shaking, quivering, pulsating under his praise and his dexterous fingers. I don’t think I’ve ever been this wet before. I make to tug down my panties and he helps me, unhooking them when they get caught on my bare feet, and pushing them off the bed. Now confronted with the full sight of my glistening pussy, he pauses again, awestruck, enchanted, staring at me like I’m a shooting star. His tongue wets his lips again and I whine at the sight.
I need that tongue on me. Inside me.
“Eddie.” My voice is high, needy. “I want…” I bite my lip, wondering briefly how I ask him to eat me out. I’ve never asked for that specifically before. In my experience, it tends to be something guys do out of a sense of obligation, but I don’t want it to be like that for Eddie. I only want it if he’ll enjoy it.
I settle for, “I want your mouth on me,” and hope to God he gets it.
He does. At first, Eddie leans down to softly, delicately kiss my neck, and as good as it feels, I worry that he misunderstood me. But then he moves down my body, placing gentle love bites as he goes, grazing over my shoulders and collarbone, nipping the valley between my breasts, tongue soothing the indents his teeth leave in my skin. He leaves a trail of open-mouthed kisses and nibbles down my stomach until, finally, he reaches my wet, pink mound. I can feel my heart beating in my pussy as he flattens his wide tongue against it.
I clutch at the bed sheets, nearly screaming with pleasure. It feels so good, so perfect, I can’t help the uncontrollable jerking of my body. But Eddie just holds my hips steady and laps at me. I’m trying so badly to keep my eyes open – I want to watch him, want to see his perfect mouth against my center – but it’s so overwhelming, it’s all I can do not let go of the bed sheets to dig my fingers into his hair. I can’t help grinding further against his mouth, though, and he groans into me. The vibrations send my juices pooling into my core as I clench around nothing, but Eddie just takes it all, licking and sucking.
He moans against my center again, words this time, something that sounds like, “So fucking sweet,” and the fire in my belly tightens into a hot coil that threatens to snap at any moment.
“Shit,” I swear, feeling the tension build. “Eddie…f-fuck, I’m…oh, just like that, please…i-it feels so good, please, please don’t stop.”
He clearly has no intention of doing so, his ringed fingers digging further into my hips, mouth creating a damn suction against me. Just when I think it can’t get any better, any sweeter, Eddie lets go of one of my hips to slip two perfect fingers inside my dripping hot pussy, and curls them against me in a way that causes the coil in my belly to not only snap, but fully erupt .
Unable to help myself, I cry out, pleasure coursing through me, and within seconds, I come undone around Eddie’s fingers and tongue. My hips are bucking, my whole body convulsing, and he is not stopping, his fingers pumping in and out of me, his tongue pressing against me. Once I've ridden out my high, he finally stops, and I come back to Earth, exhausted.
I’ve just had the best orgasm of my life, all due to Eddie “The Freak” Munson. It’s a better high than any drug could get me.
Breathing heavily, Eddie wipes his mouth and shifts up onto his hands and knees to crawl over me, a slight smile on his lips, but eyes gentle. “Are you all right?” he whispers.
I don’t think I have enough mental energy to make my brain form words after that earth-shattering orgasm he’s just given me. Instead, I bring my hand around the back of Eddie’s neck and tug him down to me, our kiss fiery and electric. This time I taste myself on him, and God I think I’ve died and gone to heaven. I grab fistfuls of his hair as he holds me against him. We flip positions, so I’m on top, and nearly without thinking, I reach my hand down to fondle his cock over his underwear.
Eddie groans into my mouth. “Jesus fucking Christ,” he whines, grinding into my hand, as desperate for my touch as I was for his. It makes me so damn horny, and I wrestle with his underwear, pulling them down with minimal help from him.
Fresh arousal gushes through my core at the sight of his hard, thick length, and I can’t help the gasp of wonder that escapes my throat. Eddie watches me, suddenly unsure of himself now that he’s the one on full display. I lower myself to him, placing a gentle kiss on his delicate bell-end. Eddie gasps, hips bucking.
“Shit, sorry,” he apologizes, face burning, but I shake my head. Gently, I wrap my fingers around his cock, my other hand lightly fondling his balls. He throws his head back and groans, whole body twitching at my touch. “Goddamn,” he swears. “Holy hell, that’s–”
Before he can finish, I put my mouth around him and swallow as deeply as I can, and the lewd moan he emits is enough for my pussy to start throbbing with want again. My tongue oscillates on the underside of his dick, finding a prominent vein, and a strangled cry escapes his throat, fists clenching around my hair. He lets out a string of expletives as I continue to suck him off.
“Fuck, baby…” Eddie wheezes. “Feels so damn good…Jesus H. Christ, you’re incredible.” I look up at him through lowered lashes – his face is screwed up in ecstasy, chest heaving, teeth gritted shut. “You’re a goddamn dream, holy shit, I can’t…” He gasps, rutting his hips into my mouth, and I gag and splutter when he hits the back of my throat.
“Shit!” Eddie pulls out of my mouth, looking aghast. “Fuck, oh fuck, I’m sorry, I’m so sorry, did I hurt you? Jesus Christ, I’m so sorry–”
I catch my breath, put my hand on his leg to calm him. Once I’m able to speak, I tell him, “It’s okay.” Because it is.
He's breathing so hard, so shallow, looking a mess, wanting me back on his cock, I can tell. But he swallows, saying, “I don’t want to hurt you.”
“It’s okay,” I say again. I stare at him, wanton lust rippling through my body, and I realize that what I want, what I really want, is his throbbing cock inside me. I swallow, wet my lips with my tongue, face burning with embarrassment and desire. “I want…” I trail off, rethinking my phrasing. Try again. “Can we…?”
God, why is it so hard for me to just fucking say what I want?
I’m still kneeling in front of him on the bed as he’s splayed out in front of me, and even though my mouth was literally around his dick just seconds ago, I’m dying under his scrutinizing gaze. I shut my eyes, bite my lip.
Then, in a small, shy voice, I whisper, “Will you fuck me?”
I open my eyes, and am first greeted with the sight of Eddie’s twitching, leaking cock. I have to look away or the yearning will make me explode. When I dare to glance back at his face, his eyes have grown enormous, splotches of color appearing not only on his cheeks, but on his neck and chest too. Like his system is so shocked that it can’t remember where to blush.
“I…” Eddie blinks rapidly but then stops, an expression of sudden realization overcoming him. “I…I don’t have anything.” He shakes his head, looking and sounding more dismayed than I’ve ever seen him.
I glance around. We’re in Steve Harrington’s bedroom. There’s gotta be a condom here somewhere.
Sliding off the bed, I approach the desk and open the drawer. My face lights up at the sight of an entire box filled with those square foil packets. Thank the fucking lord for Steve Harrington and his playboy, horndog ways.
I take one out and show it to Eddie. He blinks again, as if unbelieving. Then he shoots me an anxious smile.
I return it with a nervous grin of my own. “You wanna…?” I ask, leaving the sentence unfinished.
He nods immediately, then hesitates. “Do…you?” He seems suddenly unsure, as though I’ll change my mind at any moment.
Like there’s any chance of that.
“Sit up a little?” I ask.
He does, quickly, eagerly. His poor weeping cock looking so hard, it must be painful.
I crawl back onto the bed, unwrapping the foil as I go. Looking Eddie in the eye all the while, I pinch the top of the condom, and slowly roll the latex down over his dick. He hisses at the sensation.
“Shit,” he gasps, squeezing his eyes shut. Unable to help myself, I pump him a few times. He groans, twitching in my hand. “Oh fuck…please…I won’t last if you keep that up.”
I reluctantly let go and straddle his lap as he lines himself up at my entrance. Breathing heavily, I look into his face. Eddie’s brow is knitted, tongue between his lips, looking nervous and horny and absolutely out of his mind with desire.
I can relate.
My pussy is throbbing at the promise that it’ll soon be filled up with his delicious cock, and suddenly, I can’t wait for it any longer. Bracing myself on his shoulders, I finally lower myself, and sheathe him inside my heat. I’m still so wet that he slides right the fuck in.
“Oh, good Christ!” Eddie gasps, eyes squeezing shut again. His hands are at the apex of where my thighs meet my hips, grasping so tightly I’m sure I’ll find bruises later. But I don’t even care about that, he feels so good inside me, filling me up just right. It’s enough to make me want to cum all over again.
“Fuck, Eddie,” I whine, my fingers digging into his tattooed shoulders. I grind my hips slowly, wanting this to last for him. He’s made me feel so good tonight, made me cum harder than I ever have in my life. I’m aching to return the favor.
Eddie’s mouth hangs open, staring at me with lust and hunger, a man deranged. The same man who claimed I couldn’t make him nervous if I straddled his face, is putty in my arms with his dick inside me. Overcome with a sudden rush of affection for him, I brush his messy bangs from his forehead and lean forward to bring my mouth to his.
If it’s too romantic, too much like love, for me to kiss him this way, I don’t fucking care, and apparently neither does he. Eddie moans gently, bringing his hands up from my hips to caress my face. Our sweat mingles together, slick and raunchy, and it’s so damn erotic, I feel like I could burst into flames of passion.
Eddie suddenly jerks his hips up into mine, his cock going so much deeper inside me, and I break away with an ecstatic cry. He grins, apparently proud of himself, and does it again.
“Ahhhh–!” I clench my fingers around Eddie’s shoulders, digging my nails into his pale skin.
His voice is low, compassionate. “You okay, sweetheart? Is it too much?”
I shake my head. “It’s fucking perfect. More.”
Eddie obeys my command with ardent enthusiasm, rocking up into me, wrenching another euphoric moan from my throat. “I could listen to you all day,” he tells me, breathless.
I bury my lips in his neck, too fucking overcome to even attempt a reply. Turns out it doesn’t matter. Eddie’s not done talking.
“Least I can do,” he continues. “After I…fuck…” He grits his teeth, gripping my hips as I grind into him again. “After I wouldn’t…shut up about D&D.”
Somehow in my haze of elated arousal, I find my voice. “If I remember correctly,” I murmur against Eddie’s jaw. “You promised…it would be my turn…to talk next time.”
Eddie grins wickedly, pressing a hot, lingering kiss behind my earlobe. “So talk,” he whispers, and I shudder against him.
“I don’t…” My body feels like it’s on fire. “I don’t have anything to say.”
I can feel Eddie shaking his head where it rests next to my face, his long hair brushing my cheek. “I don’t believe that for a second,” he says, voice hoarse and wanting.
Clutching his shoulders, I rock against him even more vehemently, and he groans. We find a rhythm now, a perfect, torturous rhythm. My arms are wrapped around him, my mouth pressing against his neck, shoulders, chest, muffling the sounds that he pushes from my body with every jerk of his hips. Eddie is still holding me, but only one hand now, at my waist. His other hand sneaks between us to tease my clit, and I convulse on top of him.
“Fuck, fuck, holy shit,” I gasp against his neck, teeth attaching to the skin there. “God, Eddie, that feels so fucking good…”
Eddie’s forehead rests against my shoulder. My name falls out of his lips, repeatedly, like a prayer, and if I had a cassette tape of this, I would wear it out in a day.
I can feel my end approaching, too fast for me to warn him. I just have enough time to cry out his name before my second orgasm of the night billows through my body, walls of my pussy clenching around his cock, and with a strangled shout, I feel Eddie follow, his dick surging inside me as he comes.
My body feels wrecked in the best way possible, lightheaded with satisfaction, breath heaving through my chest, pussy aching but satiated. I let out something between a groan and a sigh before I pull my mouth away from Eddie’s neck to look at him.
Sex-sore, recently orgasmed Eddie is the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen. He’s panting and sweaty and exhausted, hair clinging to his face, body trembling in slight overstimulation, seeing as I’m still seated on his thoroughly spent dick. Slowly, carefully, I move off of him, but he stays still a little longer, trying to catch his breath. My eyes find the purple hickeys I’ve left on his neck and chest. Evidence of our night of passion.
Eventually, Eddie musters the strength to peel off the condom, eyes searching for a wastebasket. He finds one nearby, under Steve’s desk, and tosses it in. Reaches down onto the floor where his underwear has been tossed, pulls it back on. And then he looks at me, suddenly shy again.
“Wow,” he says quietly. “Uh…that was…”
I nod. “Yeah,” I agree, voice raspy. I clear my throat.
We sit there for several moments, and I become very aware that I’m still completely naked. I grab the nearest garment I can find and pull it over my head, in some semblance of modesty. Only when Eddie’s eyebrows raise slightly and I look down do I realize that I’ve put on his Hellfire shirt.
“Shit, sorry,” I mumble, moving to pull it off again.
“No, no!” Eddie stops me. “I mean…you can keep it on. It uh…” he trails off, cheeks tinging red. “It looks good on you.”
I duck my head, biting back a smile. The shirt is just long enough to cover my hips, so it looks like I’m wearing an almost-dress. I fiddle with the hem, breathe in deeply. It smells like Eddie.
“I can’t believe you remembered that day,” Eddie says, voice still very soft.
“I can’t believe you did,” I counter. I look at him askance, as if fully turning my gaze on him will blind me. Like staring at an eclipse.
But then he smiles and it’s almost like I’m blinded anyway. “Are you kidding?” he murmurs. “Of course I remember. You were so kind to me, so sweet. And you asked me about Dungeons and Dragons.” He clutches his heart dramatically.
I can’t help the giggle that escapes me as I shake my head. “I was so nervous,” I tell him, feeling my cheeks flame.
“Why?” he asks. “Cuz I was so mean and scary?”
Sitting cross-legged in just his underwear on Harrington’s bed, this is the least intimidating I’ve ever seen Eddie look. I shake my head. “I didn’t think you were mean or scary,” I tell him truthfully. “I’m just always nervous around…” I hesitate. Gather my nerves. “Around boys I find attractive.”
I finally look at him fully. His gaze is tender, handsome features soft. Hesitantly, he scoots towards me a little. I meet him halfway.
Leaning into my sudden spurt of bravery, I ask the question I’ve wanted to ask for two years. “Why wasn’t there ever a ‘next time?’”
Eddie blinks at me. “What?”
“Our conversation,” I reply. “When you walked me to the yearbook room. You told me that next time you’d let me do all the talking. I just…” I pause. Shrug. “I guess I wanted to know why that never happened.”
Eddie exhales a chuckle. “I couldn’t just approach you in the hallway at school,” he tells me. “Especially after you started hanging out with the popular kids. You were a new student, and if you were associated with me, Eddie ‘The Freak’ Munson…” He trails off. Sighs. “I didn’t want to make life harder for you than it already was. If you wanted to befriend me, that should be your choice.” He shrugs, resigned. “I was waiting for you to make the first move. When you never did, I just…figured you were over it. Done with me.”
My heart swells. “I’m sorry,” I apologize. “I would have sought you out sooner if I’d known. But…I was too nervous to even talk to you. It’s like you said, I was just the shy, quiet new girl, and you were this…stupidly handsome, older student with amazing hair.”
He laughs at that and my heartbeat quickens. “Honestly Eddie, I didn’t even think you knew I existed,” I admit. “I was sure you’d forgotten our whole interaction as soon as you got back to the Hellfire Club that day. But I never forgot. I thought about it every day. I was so into you, it would have crushed me if I’d gotten rejected.”
Eddie looks utterly bewildered. “So…” he says slowly. “All this time…you were just nervous that I would say no?”
I nod. My chest is tightening, clenching. I know what I have to do now. I close my eyes. Take a deep breath. “I’ve…I’ve liked you for a long time, Eddie,” I finally confess, my voice low. “Basically since the day I met you.”
I feel his hands on my face and his lips on mine before I even have a chance to open my eyes. He’s there, kissing me, thumbs caressing my cheeks, so sweet, so tender, I feel like I might dissolve. I kiss him back, but not like before. Not like when I was so overcome with lust I could barely think of anything else. When I kiss him now, it’s delicate, gentle, like he’s breakable glass and will shatter at any moment. I memorize the feel of his lips, the taste of his tongue, the way my body rises to meet him when he sits up on his knees, how one of his hands leaves my face to wrap around me, pulling me flush against him.
I’m still not wearing any bottoms.
When we break for air, he whispers my name, the sweetest fucking sound I’ve ever heard. “How could I ever say no to you?” he murmurs, mouth still so close to mine. “When I’ve been wanting you all this time, too?”
We kiss again. For all the fantasizing and imagining I’ve done in the past two years, it pales in comparison to the real thing.
“What do we do now?” Eddie asks.
I don’t know if he’s talking about right now (getting dressed, going back downstairs, facing the party) or the distant future (college, me leaving town), but I find it matters less to me than just the fact that he’s here, and he’s with me, and he wants to be with me.
I just shrug. “We have all summer to figure that out.” I smile. Eddie smiles back, kisses me again.
And for once, I’m not nervous.
END