Teddy

THE REMAINDER OF THE EVENING FEELS LIKE I'm walking on a pillow of clouds. Periodically, Rylie and I will find each other's eyes and burst out in excited squeals before reeling it in and acting as though it never happened. Everyone gives up asking for an explanation after the third or fourth time, but Jensen gives me a look each time that says I'll be explaining later. Neither Rylie nor I are prone to squealing, so the behavior is oddly suspicious.

The setting sun paints the scene in a warm glow and the twinkly lights provide just enough illumination to feel isolated inside the bubble of activity. A local band plays classic rock in the background, the perfect soundtrack for the occasion.

It's either these atmospheric details or the beers buzzing in my system that feels as if the night has been cast under a spell of a romantic witch somewhere in the shadowed outskirts, watching her magic weaving into the night.

"Want to dance?" Jensen whispers into my ear, his arm around my waist.

He's been overly affectionate tonight, always finding a way to touch me or invade the bubble of my personal space—wrapping me in his arms from behind, sitting me on his lap around the bonfire, clutching my hand as we weave through the crowds, brushing a hand along my arm as we chat in a group.

And the kisses. Let's not forget about the kisses. Stolen kisses when no one is looking—on my cheek, along my neck, softly on the underside of my wrist, quick pecks on the lips, and lingering ones with promises for more later.

The teasing touches and kisses have me on edge, wanting more, but also reveling in the intimacy growing between us.

The transition from friends has been so natural, I almost forget we spent our whole lives fighting against our feelings. Although I push for more physically, I must admit Jensen might be right in his wishes to not rush things.

Would I feel such a rush when his arm brushes mine in a sea of people if we were skipping all the early stages of intimacy? Would I notice the way he gulps down a rush of desire when my hand innocently skims against the bulge in his jeans? Would the touch of his warm hand skimming under my shirt send lightning bolts of excitement through me? Or would the whispered words in my ear cause goosebumps to stampede over my whole body?

I'll never admit any of this to Jensen, though, because my impatience for more often wins over the slow pace of intimacy. I'll always want more with him.

I grab his hand and lead him to the designated dance floor in front of the stage. A handful of couples are snuggled up in each other's arms with a smattering of kids jumping and skipping around them.

We stop in the center, Jensen pressing our bodies close together, moving us slowly to the music. I tangle my fingers into the hair at the nape of his neck and rest my head against his chest, sighing against the steady beat of his heart. He presses a kiss to the top of my head, leaving his face pressed into my hair as he slowly spins us, our feet intertwined in the grass.

I feel his hand skirt under the hem of my shirt, the heat from his skin branding me wherever it touches. He rubs it lightly over the small of my back a few times before coming to a rest, his hand spanning the entirety of my lower back. I sigh again.

Is there anything better than being held by this man?

When the song ends, he tips my face up to look at him. "Ready to go?" Before I can answer, he presses a soft kiss to my lips.

We say our goodbyes and wander out of the illuminated scene into the shadowed night.

I can hear Scout the minute we're stomping up the stairs to Jensen's apartment. The dog is pawing at the door, whimpering, and it makes me laugh. "Poor guy feels left out."

"He's spoiled," Jensen grunts.

As soon as the door is opened, the puppy circles around our feet twice before trotting down the stairs. "I'll go with him," I announce as I descend the stairs.

I turn to see Jensen staring down the lit stairwell at us, a smile tugging at the corner of his mouth.

"What?" I ask, pausing my descent.

He shakes his head. "Just like having you here with us is all."

Lately, I've been spending more and more time at Jensen's apartment, sometimes even staying the night. Mornings are interesting with his excited groin stabbing me in the back.

"Are you having a moment?" I tease with a smirk.

"Shut it. Just hurry back with the dog already," he grunts before heading through the door into his apartment, leaving me alone with the eager dog.

Once Scout notices I'm not following him, he races back up the steps, circles around me and flies back down, sitting at the landing with his butt wagging. "Yeah, yeah," I tell the impatient dog.

After Scout does his business, we join Jensen in the apartment. He's filling Scout's dishes with food and fresh water. The dog immediately falls over the dishes, eating like it's been years rather than hours. A sudden rush of affection for the mutt has me smiling.

"What's that look for?" Jensen asks.

"I'm just feeling grateful we found Scout that night and that no one ever claimed him. Can you imagine life without him now?"

Jensen grunts. "I remember how I used to have socks and boxers without doggie bites in them."

When I laugh at him, he engulfs me in a tight squeeze and demands I apologize. When that still doesn't work, he nuzzles his face into my neck, the scruff of his five o'clock shadow rough against my skin.

"You wouldn't be laughing if you had to keep replacing your socks and panties every other week," he demands, running a hand over my braid. He slips the band off the end of the braid, combing his fingers through my hair to unweave the strands, leaving my hair in kinky waves down my back.

"I love your hair down." He presses his nose into the top of my head and breathes in. "It smells like strawberries. It's always smelled like strawberries."

"It's my shampoo. I'm a creature of habit. Rylie tries to get me to switch to her fancy shit, but I like the one I've been using for years."

"Well, Rylie is an idiot. Don't change shampoos. I like it too much."

I mimic his movements, running my fingers through his hair. "Looks like you're making changes, though. Since when do you let your hair get so long?"

"Since you started paying it so much attention," he nearly growls. "I fucking love it."

In response, I grab a fistful in each hand, bringing his face close to mine. "Good to know," I whisper against his lips right before slamming our mouths together.

Normally when I initiate a kiss, Jensen submits and allows me to lead, but not this time. Tonight he immediately takes charge, shoving his tongue into my mouth with hungry swipes. He squeezes my ass with both hands and hefts me up. As soon as I wrap my legs around his waist, he's moving through the house.

When he comes to the couch, he drops me down lengthwise on it and lowers himself over me with a knee between my legs. I tug at the hem of his shirt, a silent plea to remove it, and my eyes widen when he obliges. I gawk at the shirtless man before me, all hard ridges and toned muscles. My hands fly to his abs with a mind of their own and fan over his skin, still white from the absence of sun over the long winter.

"Jensen," I whisper, suddenly aware he's progressed us to a semi-naked stage of the relationship.

I sit up, pressing a few kisses to his exposed skin, and he hisses in a sharp breath. I repeat the action, this time sneaking my tongue out between kisses. When he doesn't stop me, I rise onto my knees and stare into his eyes as I pull my shirt over my head. It takes him a few moments to react, his eyes locked on mine.

With a shuddered breath, he finally looks down.

His eyes roam over my body, the mint color of my lacy bra the only thing covering me from the waist up. "Teddy," he whispers, his eyes meeting mine again. "Shit, baby."

When he still doesn't make a move, I take his hands and cup it over my breast. The touch seemingly reawakens him because he's suddenly caressing me. His thumb brushes over my aroused nipple and I moan, arching into him.

He does it again, this time studying my face for my reaction. Whatever he sees, he must like because his other hand grabs the neglected boob and he gives both boobs equal attention, which has me squirming against him.

Suddenly, his lips are on mine, demanding and hungry, his hands still massaging my boobs. He lays me back on the couch, his body hovering above me. I hook my legs around his waist, digging my heels into his butt to bring him closer to me. The weight of his body on top of me feels so good and I moan against his mouth.

Breaking the kiss, he lowers his mouth to my chest, placing wet kisses on my cleavage. "Off," he demands between kisses. "Take it off."

I sit up only long enough to undo the clasp on my bra before he impatiently pushes me back down, roughly sliding the bra off and throwing it to the ground. Goosebumps immediately prickle my skin from the way he's staring at me, almost irreverently.

"Jensen," I moan his name, arching my body toward his, causing my boobs to rise up. He falls on me, his mouth going right to my left breast. He plucks at my nipple with his teeth, and I screech, my pelvis thrusting up on instinct.

"Jesus," I whisper, clutching at his back, demanding more.

"Teddy, fuck, your tits. I've been dreaming of these things for years," he confesses between sloppy kisses, moving between my breasts like he can't decide which is his favorite.

When the confession sends a jolt right to my pussy, dampening my panties, I reach between us to investigate his reaction. I'm pleased to find the bulge in his pants, and I palm his erection roughly. He moans against my boobs, his body reflexively rocking against my hand.

"Chipmunk," he groans in between ragged breaths, wrapping a hand around my wrist to stall my movements.

"Don't, J," I warn. He looks up at me then, undoubtedly confused by my tone of voice. "Don't you dare make that nickname sexy," I scold in way of explanation.

He lets out a low chuckle before apologizing. "Sorry, baby. Won't happen again." Then he kisses me savagely on the mouth, his hands working my breasts once again. He breaks the kiss to work his lips down my body, starting at my neck, then getting sidetracked at my tits before moving down my stomach. He pauses to look up at me. "You're so beautiful, Teddy. Why'd we wait so long for this? We should've been doing this all along."

"Blame yourself, big guy. I wanted to be doing this from the beginning," I remind him.

He ignores me and makes his way back up to my lips, our bodies pressed chest to chest.

"You're definitely heavier," I grunt when his weight settles on me.

He starts to get up. "Oh shit, am I crushing you?"

I yank him back down, wrapping my legs around his waist again to pin him to me. "No, I like it."

He ruts into me, his erection rubbing against my pussy. "You like it, huh?"

I moan and buck up into him. The movements become frantic and before I know it, we're dry humping against each other, the seams of our jeans causing the most erotic friction. We kiss greedily one minute and then come up for air the next when he returns his attention to my boobs.

When I can't take it anymore, I shove him away so we can change positions. Once he's sitting on the couch, I straddle him, reveling in the way this angle feels when the dry humping commences.

My tits are bobbing from our frantic movements, and he can't seem to help himself. He shoves his face between my tits and motorboats himself. I chuckle at his obsession, remembering just how much he liked my boobs the drunken night of New Years Eve all those years ago. But the laughter dies when he grabs my ass and forces a steady rhythm.

I fall into him, burying my face in his neck, moaning his name. I can feel how close I am, the warmth spreading through my body in quick bursts.

"That's it, baby. Let go. Let me make you feel good," he rasps in my ear.

His hands are on my ass, moving me harder and faster against him. I lose all sense of self the closer I come to climax and then I come in a shudder, goosebumps dancing along my skin. I breathe heavily against his neck, boneless from the release.

With a hand fisted in my hair, he brings my face to his for a hungry kiss. "Fuck, Teddy, I knew you'd be hot when you came."

When I realize he's still moving my body against his erection, I sit up to study his face and realize he's close. I help him along, taking over the humping as I roughly thrust my hips a few times and then circle them around his dick, repeating the pattern over and over.

He falls back against the couch, his eyes pinched closed, deep moans rumbling in his throat.

I softly kiss his lips and then his closed eyelids. "Jensen," I whisper, "look at me."

When our eyes lock, I pick up speed, thrusting against him. He becomes frantic and grasps my ass firmly to repeatedly slam my pussy over his erection until he explodes in a rush of grunts.

We stare at each other as our chests huff out heavy breaths. Finally, a smirk breaks across his face.

"Jesus, Teddy. You made a mess."