Zoe narrows her eyes.
“Did you cheat on me?”
Sam scoffs. “Yeah, like I have the time.” Touche.
“So…you’re not dumping me?”
He stares at her, his gaze turning cool. “Fuck. You wanted me to dump you over this.”
It’s not until he says it that she realizes it’s true. Zoe was nervous about the confrontation…but in the back of her mind, she was excited for the liberation. The not-being-tied-down.
“We never see each other,” she says softly. “We’re gonna go to different colleges.”
Sam sighs. Then:
“So let’s break up.”
Zoe finally gets what people mean when they say “thick tension.” She doesn’t know what to say – she doesn’t want to insist they stay together. But also, breaking up suddenly doesn’t feel like a great idea, either. She grabs his hand and he doesn’t pull away, which is nice, at least.
“Are you gonna hate me?” she asks.
“No.”
“Can I still text you?”
Sam looks at her and then rolls his eyes, his expression softening. “‘Course you can.”
And then Zoe says something she didn’t plan to – the words just sorta, spilled out of her before she could stop them.
“Can I kiss you before we break up?”
Sam tenses a bit and she can tell he’s turning the choice over in his mind.
He finally admits that he’d like to.
Zoe leans in and presses her lips to his. He always had really nice lips – soft, especially for a guy. The kiss is nice. Kind of sad at first, but also sweet. Like trying on an old favorite sweater you’ve lost.
It’s Sam who takes things up a notch. He’s the one who grabs the back of her neck, deepening the kiss, and slides his tongue into her mouth. Zoe’s the one who can’t help but moan a little. It just feels really good to be kissing someone again, especially someone who knows what she likes – proved even further when Sam slides his hands under her parka and roughly down her back.
When he pulls away to move his mouth to her neck, Zoe melts.
She grabs at Sam’s shirt all desperate and yanks him closer, practically straddling his thigh – half in his lap, half on the seat.
“Can I fuck you before we break up?” Sam asks, his voice straining.
Fuck yes.
Unable to vocalize her thoughts, she just gasps as he shoves her coat off her shoulders and starts sucking a bruise into the sensitive skin on her neck.
“Please,” she manages to choke out, already trying to undo her jeans.
They pull away long enough for her to tug them down around her ankles. Sam helps her flip over on the bench, his hands grabbing her full hips and pulling ass in the air. Zoe hates the cold, but right now, she’s grateful for one thing about winter: how dark it is so early. She’s turned on, but she’d probably be embarrassed if Sam’s classmates walked by and saw them fucking like animals.
But as she hears Sam undo his zipper and feels his rough hand yank her thong to the side, exposing sticky, soaked folds, she’s really glad it’s dark out. Because she’s desperate to get fucked stupid.
“Holy fuck.” Sam rubs between her legs and she hears him chuckle, probably because this might be the wettest she’s ever been. She practically keens when he massages his fingers over her clit.
Zoe and Sam have fucked a lot. They’re horny teenagers, so, yeah. But she can already tell that something’s different. It’s like all walls are down – she doesn’t care about sounding needy or how she looks or if she’s arranged the right way because everything feels too fucking good. She can’t even think straight.
And Sam? He seems to care a lot less about being rough. He doesn’t hesitate, he’s taking what he wants. And it’s so fucking sexy. How physical it is. Zoe supposes that it makes sense, they’re breaking up after all. May as well lay it all out now.
Which is why Zoe doesn’t feel embarrassed when she tosses her hair over her shoulder and looks back at Sam, swaying her ass in the air and begging him to fuck her already.
He smacks her ass, hard.
“You’re so impatient.” He says, like it’s a fact. “That why you were such a slut?”
Zoe barely has time to register his words because then, his fat cock is squeezing inside her.
“Ohmygod, fuck.” She squeals, pressing her face against the car seat. She has to remind herself to breathe. She feels deliriously good. Full and aching. “You feel fucking huge, Sam.”
“Don’t say my name,” Sam pants, leaning over her. His voice is hot against her ear. “That guy’s name is Sam, too. Right?”
She nods.
“Right. So shut the fuck up.”
Zoe really wishes that didn’t turn her on so much. But she nods and bites her lip, face screwed up in shock and pleasure as he fucks his cock in and out of her. Despite the temperature outside, her body feels white hot. His dick punches that sweet spot in the back of her cunt with every stroke – over and over and over again.
Sam places a hand on the passenger door and the other on her shoulder, jerking her back onto his driving cock. He uses the leverage to shove even harder, even deeper, into her petite frame. Zoe’s eyes practically roll back and she feels like she could cry. Every time her body falters and she thinks it might be too much, Sam tightens his grip on her – on her shoulder, her hip, her throat – and keeps going.