Nerdgasm (JenLisa)

Chapter 8

Lisa

My pulse pounds loudly in my ears as the blood rushes through my veins like a tsunami. Any remaining blood is at risk of quickly traveling south when Jennie continues to press closer to me, invading my space with her sweet scent.

"Your body," she finally clarifies when she makes contact, "is ridiculous." I can feel the heat from this point of contact through my clothing, and I have to start thinking of homeless orphans, poverty, and wrinkly p*****s to stop myself from getting hard when her fingers drag a slow, purposeful path from shoulder to shoulder and down the center of my chest and stomach. "Ridiculous in the best possible way." Her words come out as an almost inaudible whisper, but my straining ears pick them up as clearly as if she were yelling. The inquisitive pressure of her fingers stops when she hits my belly button, and she retraces her path back up to the base of my throat before finally pulling away. "I should've guessed you were a swimmer as soon as I saw your shoulders."

I don't know how I manage it, but words tumble past my lips. "So you're only going out with me for my body?" I quip, and it's an utter miracle I don't stutter.

I was already struggling for breath when she was touching me, but that and all coherent thought effectively leaves me when she gives me an unabashedly sexy smile that still manages to come off as shy. For the first time ever, a girl is looking at me with unmasked desire, and I'm not sure what to do. I don't have a second to even think of what I should do because Jennie answers me.

"Of course not. Your body comes in fourth place when it comes to things I really like about you."

"Only f-fourth?" My voice is filled with mock incredulity. "Should I be offended?"

She's still right in front of me, and although we're no longer touching, our heads are angled so close together I can see the toffee-colored flecks in her dark brown eyes.

"Not at all," she breathes in a low voice, her tone serious. "First, I like your personality." She places her hand over my heart before moving it to the top of my head, where she lightly rakes her fingers through my hair. Jennie is really touchy, not that I'm complaining; I'm starting to crave her touch more than the next Marvel or DC movie. "Second, I like this smart brain of yours. Third," she whispers, and I pitch my head farther down in an effort to hear her better. "I really, really like your lips."

"My l-lips?" My cheeks flush in pleasure and embarrassment, and my heart kicks violently when her fingers move to my mouth.

I realize keeping my hard-on at bay is futile when she lightly scrapes her nail along my lower lip, and all this talk of lips has my eyes zeroing in on hers. They're full and a pale coral-pink, and any blood left in my brain travels below my belt when I see her pink tongue peek out and slowly lick them. I'm almost painfully hard at this point, and I really want to kiss her.

"Th-thank you, Jennie."

"Mmhmm." Her voice sounds drowsy, and she's still staring at my mouth. "Lisa?"

"Mmhmm?"

She finally drags her eyes up to mine. "I'd really like you to kiss me now, please."

Instead of answering her with words, I reach up and gently cup her jaw with both hands, my thumbs tracing the plump outline of her lips as I lean down. I move toward her slowly, my breath ghosting over her parted mouth. Time has slowed, and the thump-thump-thump of my heart is like a steady drumbeat as I move closer until my lips finally touch hers.

Although adrenaline spikes through my body at the contact, I'm gentle as I taste her, taking my time like Rosé advised. I've never been as physically aware of someone as I am with Jennie, and it feels as if my senses have been heightened as I'm flooded with sensation.

The petal-soft texture of her lips, and the satiny feel of her skin against my fingertips.

The heady scent of her citrusy shampoo tickling my nostrils.

The warmth of her body as she steps between my legs and presses herself against my chest.

The sight of her upturned face, downcast lashes, and dreamy smile when I momentarily pull away.

The faint gasp of delight when I lean back in for more, and the dulcet sound of a moan trapped in her throat when I don't stop.

The sweet taste of her when I lick into her mouth gently, savoring her as I gradually and unhurriedly deepen the kiss.

Our tongues tangle slowly as we learn each other's touch, and I savor the feeling of her hands as they start to roam over the body she was praising earlier. Eventually, Jennie pulls away slightly and takes a deep, shuddering breath that simultaneously sounds like an awe-filled sigh.

"You're shaking," she whispers as she opens her eyes, and I am.

I think it's a combination of nerves, desire, and the still-present adrenaline coursing through me. I definitely don't feel in control—which is why my stutter is more pronounced—but it's a good kind of loss of control.

"S-so are you," I whisper back when I feel her body tremble under my touch.

"I want you, Lisa. Would you like to spend the night? We don't have to go all the way," she clarifies, "but I'd like you to stay a little longer. We can see where the night leads."

Her direct words and their meaning aren't lost on me, and she sees just how much they affect me when she moves in and lightly brushes up against my hard-on with her lower body. For a moment I fear my d**k is going to punch through my jeans and beg for more contact. Fighting my body's screaming plea, I give her a quick peck before I move away and force some space between us.

"I want you, too," I admit. I see confusion cloud her gaze, and I quickly answer the unspoken but I know she's wondering about. I don't want her to think I'm rejecting her. "Which is why I should leave. I respect you, and I want to take things slow. Is that okay?"

A blank look is all I get in answer for a moment before a sweet smile breaks across her face like a sunrise. "Yes, that's more than okay. Thank you, Lisa."

"For what?"

"For respecting me. For not being like a lot of guys who would've just taken me up on my offer. I swear, I'm usually not so forward." She laughs and runs a hand through her hair. "There's just something about you. You make me feel special."

I grin and pull her in for a tight hug. "That's because you are."

We embrace for a moment before I gently kiss her on the top of her head and leave. I walk to my car and drive home in a dreamlike state, the promise we made to see each other soon filling my heart with a lightness I've only managed to feel when I'm in the sanctuary of a swimming pool.

Jennie and I deliver on our promise to see each other outside of class as often as possible, and the next several weeks are peppered with a variety of dates that allow us to get to know one another while also taking advantage of the crisp fall weather. I feel like I should remember the sights and scenery, but all I'll ever be able to recall is Jennie and what I've learned about her so far.

When we went hiking to Ithaca Falls and Cayuga Lake, I learned she can't swim—a fact I plan on remedying—but that she loves the outdoors. It was also refreshing to learn she isn't afraid of bugs like most girls I've met.

When we went to a local winery, I learned she can't hold her alcohol to save her life but that she is very, very friendly when she's tipsy. I thought she was handsy before, but tipsy Jennie sprouts octopus arms, and it was a challenge to keep her hands from traveling too far south.

When we went to pick apples at an orchard, I got up close and personal with her playful side when she made me jump into a pile of leaves with her. I was an itchy mess and ended up finding leaves in my sweater when I got home that night, but hearing her shrieks of uninhibited laughter trumped any discomfort.

We're currently at Cornell's McGraw Tower, trekking up the stairs to take a look at the stars while the Cornell Chimes play. The twenty-one bells housed in the tower are the most played set of bells on any college campus, and I thought Jennie was going to swoon from how romantic it sounded when I asked if she wanted to come.

A small smile tilts my lips up as I remember our previous dates. Not only that, but the view I have right now can't be beat. I have an uninhibited view of her butt since she's walking ahead of me, and the gentle sway of her hips as she takes each step has me hypnotized. Thank God for yoga pants.

"I freakin' hate cardio," Jennie wheezes miserably, interrupting my reminiscent thoughts and admiring gaze. "Hate. It."

"You didn't have a problem with cardio when we went hiking," I remind her.

"That's not cardio," she insists. "I don't have enough air going to my brain at the moment to tell you how they're different, but trust me, they are. Also," she pauses and takes a deep breath, "I'm not your friend right now."

"What? Why?"

"Because." She breathes heavily, struggling for breath. "You're not even winded."

"I have my swimming obsession to thank for that. I'm happy to teach you sometime."

"Maybe." Deep breath. "Why'd I agree to do this again?"

"Because it's romantic and a Cornell staple."

"f**k staples," she wheezes.

I stifle the laugh I can feel building at her words. "Should we head back?" I can't keep the teasing note from my voice.

She grunts in answer, and I follow along for a few more steps. Her pace has slowed down considerably, but I don't mind taking as long as she needs to reach the top. If she wants to head back down, we can, but I'll miss my view. I'm stuck staring at her butt again and almost run into her when she stops abruptly. I halt in my tracks so I don't topple us over.

She turns around and faces me with an expression filled with dread. "How many steps have we gone? I know you've been counting. We've got to be close, right? I really want to hear the chimes play."

We both look down and check the time; we have another fifteen minutes until the concert starts.

She won't like my answer because I'm about to dash any lingering hope she has. I feel terrible, but I already have a plan forming to assuage my guilt. "We're seventy-three steps in."

"And how many steps are there?"

"From where you're standing? One hundred and sixty-one," I say without skipping a beat. "Eighty-eight more to go."

"Stop!" she gasps. "You're standing on a pile of lies, Lisa. That's not even halfway! That'll take me forever."

Her playful words and very real outrage at how many steps we have left makes me chuckle. "I'm not lying."

With a frustrated huff, she leans her back against the wall and rests her hip against the handrail. "I don't mean to be a whiny cow, but I didn't think stargazing would be such a pain in the butt to execute."

I wordlessly walk up a few of the steps separating us but make sure to leave some space between us. I turn around and speak over my shoulder.

"You're not a whiny cow. Now, hop on," I say, holding out my arms to my sides so she knows I intend to give her a piggyback ride.

Silence greets me, and I can practically feel her thoughts.

"You are not going to carry me eighty-eight steps up this tower, Lisa. You'll get tired. I'm too heavy."

I scoff at her words as politely as possible. "I won't get tired, and you're not too heavy. You're tiny. Trust me, my stamina is better than you think."

She makes a sound between a garbled sigh and slight intake of breath, which shouldn't even be possible. I don't have time to think about what it could mean because I feel the heat of her at my back. She touches my shoulders and presses herself close, and I can't help but wonder if this is a mistake. As long as she keeps her hands to herself, we should be fine and won't tumble to our deaths.

"I trust you. Just don't drop me."

Her hands run over my shoulders before they loop around my neck and clasp across my chest. I squat, reach down, and grab her thighs. As I straighten, I hoist her farther up my back until we're both comfortable.

"N-never," I promise. "Now, since I'm doing the cardio for the two of us, all the talking is up to you."

She laughs at me because as it stands, she does most of the talking anyways. "That won't be a problem. What do you want me to talk about?"

I start taking the steps and make sure to stick to the handrail as a guide. "Tell me about yourself."

"I'm not interesting," she says softly into my ear, and I can hear a tinge of insecurity in her voice.

"I disagree. I think you're p-plenty interesting." My words reek of honesty, and I think she knows this because she doesn't naysay me. "What don't I know about you so far?" I pause and think. After a few steps, I add, "What's your family like? What were you like in high school? How do you like college so far? Anything, really. I just want to k-know y-you."

"You're so sweet. Thank you." She tops her sweet whisper off with a quick kiss to the side of my neck, and I feel my skin burn hotly at the contact. "Let's see...I'm an only child with a bunch of big, burly male cousins. I didn't have the chance to wonder what having a sibling might be like because we spent a lot of time together growing up. My family is huge and loud and crazy. It's probably why I'm so forthright; you kind of have to be around my family if you want to be heard."

"Well, that explains a lot."

"Hey!" She playfully smacks my chest.

"I didn't say it was a b-bad thing. I like how you go for what you w-want."

"Like you?"

My face colors at her words, and I'm glad she can't see my goofy expression. "Exactly. What else?"

"I was super involved in high school. I got good grades, but I really enjoyed a lot of the extracurricular activities. I was a cheerleader and played volleyball all four years, and I was on our student council as well. My specialty was event planning, and I was in charge of tying up all the loose ends for school functions and what not. I realized that's what I love to do, which is why I'm studying communications and public relations."

I think about her outgoing, take-charge personality. "I can definitely see that. I bet you were homecoming and prom queen."

Her uncharacteristic silence confirms my suspicions before she speaks. "Maybe."

"I knew it," I say on a laugh. "It sounds like you were popular."

She doesn't disagree with me. "What were you like in high school?"

I take a moment to respond because I'm not sure how much I want to reveal. I don't want her to pity me if I tell her I was picked on, so I keep it vague.

"I was the opposite. With the exception of the swim team and a super secret comic book club, I wasn't really involved in school activities. I love learning, so class was always fun. I definitely wasn't homecoming or prom queen," I joke. "I love college a lot more. I like the independence and freedom we get."

She hugs me tightly as I continue to carry her upstairs.

"College is great," she agrees. "I learned early on I need to stay focused. When I first started, I was all over the place; I took classes that didn't meet my degree requirements, which is why I'm in Professor Kim's intro class now. I also dated some duds who were more focused on having a good time with their bros than having a good time with me. I figured early on I'm more of a long-term thinker, so I've been trying to balance a social life with my girlfriends and closing out this semester before graduation on a good note."

"Makes sense. Those duds you dated were crazy for not wanting to spend time with you."

She nuzzles into the back of my neck, and I can feel her smile. "Thank you. It all worked out because I met you."

I give her an answering smile she can't see, and we trek up the rest of the way in companionable silence. If I'm being honest, I take advantage of our closeness and go slower than I normally would. Once we reach the top, I set her down and feel warmth spread across my chest at her look of awe.

"They weren't kidding. This has got to be the best view on campus."

She looks all around us at the school and grounds, which look tiny from up here amidst the fall foliage, before tilting her head back to look up at the sky. She's gorgeous, and I know I have the best view on campus. However, I don't vocalize this thought because I've seen too many chick flicks with Rosé where the guy says something similar, and I'm not about to be the guy that uses recycled lines from movies on this unique, wonderful girl.

She turns to look at me, and she holds out her hand with the softest smile. I lace my fingers with hers and move toward her until we're pressed against each other, enjoying each other's touch. There are people around us—other couples and people by themselves with cameras—and I avert my eyes when I see more than a few pairings making out heavily in the shadows of the tower.

Jennie must see the same thing because she turns in my arms and looks up at me with a playful twinkle in her eye.

"I think," she starts, "to get the full experience of this particular campus staple, we should do as our fellow locals do." She gestures with her head toward the kissing couples and raises her eyebrows meaningfully.

I can't help but poke fun at her. "I thought you said to f-f**k staples?"

Her hands glide up my shoulder and loop around my neck, pulling my head down.

"I changed my mind," she breathes against my lips.

I close the distance between us just as the chimes being to play, and she sighs dreamily as our lips make contact. I couldn't begin to tell you what songs are played because between my pounding heart and the rustling of the wind around us, we're making our own melody, and it's the sweetest I've ever heard.