Now, I know all the sounds that were in my head, are out loud in reality because my throat is scratchy.

“Fuck, Kayla. I’m so fucking close.” He starts moving faster on me and thats all it takes.

“OH FUCK!” I scream, while he moans out the most manliest sound I’ve ever fucking heard.

At some point, he has enough respect for the other hotel guests that he grabs the back of my head and plasters my face into his neck so it catches most of my scream.

I’m riding every wave panting ‘holy fuck’ the entire time.

When it’s over he starts to chuckle.

I sit up and cock my head at him questioningly.

“You are so fucking loud, Kayla. Jesus, we need to work on that.”

Chapter 45

*Mikayla*

HOLE. EE. SHIT.

I feel sorry for all the girls in the world that never get to experience a Jake Andrews at least once in their lifetime.

***

I look at him with my nose scrunched, disgusted look on my face.

“It’s not at all what the rap videos make it seem like,” he’s laughing to himself.

We’re having dinner at the hotel restaurant the next day and we somehow got to talking about strip clubs, I don’t know how.

“So you guys weren’t sitting in red leather booths with ‘stunna’ shades, making it rain money?”

He laughs out loud, causing other diners to glare it him.

“No, Kayla, it most definitely was not like that. More like, sticky pleather chairs, making it rain germs.” He mocks a disgusted shiver.

The waitress comes over for our drinks order, never once looking at me, her eyes glued to Jake, eye fucker.

“I’ll have a beer,” Jake says calmly. “What about you, baby? Champagne with ice?”

I nod, and smile.

“Make it two of each, we’re on our honeymoon,” he says to the waitress, who then looks at me like she just realized I was sitting here.

Slutbag.

***

After a few more than a couple of beverages each, we head back to our room.

“Oh. My. God,” I say, “That old dude is my Lit. Professor and that girl is in my class.” I watch as the couple make there way over to us, fondling each other, not a care in the world.

Jake laughs.

As they come closer, Jake decides to be a smart ass and stand right in there way so they have no choice but to stop and look.

He does this to be an asshole.

When they stop and see him, and me, it’s awkward as all hell.

“Hi, Professor Greene,” I say quietly, looking down, I try to smile but it doesn’t follow through because Jake is an asshole, and this is fricken awkward.

“Oh!” The professor sounds surprised. He let’s go of the student and straightens up, rubbing a hand through his hair. “Hi, Miss Jones.”

He eyes me and then Jake.

His eyes widen slightly.

“I didn’t know that Jake Andrews was your boyfriend.”

“Oh, he’s not.”

Jake tenses next to me, then walks away, heading towards our room.

The professor tries to make awkward conversation, and the student tries to hide behind him.

As quickly as possible we say our goodbyes and I walk back to the room.

When I open the door he’s coming out of the bathroom.

“I’m going to take the floor, so you want to pick what pillows and blankets you want now?” he says to the room. He won’t look at me.

What?

“What?”

“I said-"

“I know what you said, Jake. But we have a king sized bed here, it’s not like we haven’t slept in the same bed before. Did I do something?”

“Whatever, Micky. Just pick so I can get some sleep. I’m tired as fuck.”

Micky? He never calls me Micky.

“What happened? You never call me Micky.”

“Well, maybe I should, that’s what your friends call you right?”

“Jake-"

“Well, if I’m not your boyfriend, and I’m not your friend, then what the fuck am I?” he’s yelling at me. “What the fuck am I to you, Mikayla? Tell me, please, because you sure as shit aren’t making it clear!”

I look down and shrivel into myself, hoping to god this isn’t happening. Because I need him, so bad. And he hates me right now.

*Jake*

“So?” I ask.

“Jake, I can’t, I can’t be more than this, not now, not yet.” Her voice breaks as tears form in her eyes. She won’t look at me.

“More than what, Mikayla?” I growl out. “More than friends? We’re more than friends and you know it. You can’t deny it either, all the touching and feeling. The innocent kisses and fucking hand holding. You,” I point to her. “You sitting on my goddamn lap whenever you get the chance. Last night, when you were riding my dick? And I made you come? That’s what friends fucking do, Mikayla?”

“Jake, that’s bullshit, don’t put it all on me. You know damn well you’re partly responsible for that too. It’s not just me. It never has been.”

“I’m not the one denying anything, Micky.” I spit out again, just to bring it home. “You’re the one that can’t decide what the fuck we are.”

“I don’t know!” she yells, standing up. Her voice is hoarse and tears are leaking from her eyes faster than she can wipe them away. She’s biting her lip so hard she’s going to draw blood. “I don’t know what the fuck to say, Jake. I mean, you have to know how I feel about you. You have to know that I…” she trails off.