Matched (LSU, #5)

by Becca Steele

The beauty of love is that you can fall into it with the most unexpected person at the most unexpected time. RITA GHATOUREY

“Green41?” I asked. “Blue16?” Charlie said at the same time. He blinked, his head whipping around to mine as his eyes widened. “What the fuck? What did you just say?” My heart was pounding. “What did you just say?” “Blue16… Uh, did you say Green41?”

There was no way I could say I just wanted to see you after we spent all night talking without it sounding weird.

“Fuck off,” he said, swiping his tongue across his lips before he continued. “You’re fit as fuck.” Whoa. I’d said the same thing to him in the pub, but there was something about that low rasp in his voice— “Fit as in physically fit or sexy fit?” “Both. Fuck. No.” Rubbing his hand over his mouth, he groaned. “You know. I didn’t mean it that way.”

I watched his back muscles moving and flexing in the sunlight, a light sheen of sweat making his skin almost look as if it were glowing. Or sparkling, like those vampires my sister had been obsessed with at one point.

“Fuck. Do you even fucking know?” he ground out, his gaze never leaving mine. “Kn-know what?” “How it feels. To be jealous of your own fucking sister. Do you know how fucked up that is, Charlie?”

It took me a few seconds to even realise that I’d been pulled back around, and a hand was tightly gripping my jaw. “Charlie.” “Nate.” I arched towards him at the same time as his mouth came down on mine.

“Jonas?” “Yeah?” “Did I really act that happy after my dates with Charlie?” He nodded, giving me another sad smile. “Yeah. You really, really did.”

somehow salvage what remained of our friendship. If there was anything left of it after he’d run away from me like a criminal fleeing the scene of a crime. Fucking mugger. He’d stolen something far more valuable than my phone or my wallet. He’d stolen my fucking senses with that kiss. No one had ever kissed me like that before. Like they needed me to breathe. Like they’d die without my mouth on theirs. I doubted I’d ever have a kiss like that again.

“Wow,” I said shakily when he was finally done and he’d collapsed backwards onto the bed with a long, drawn-out groan. “I think I might have a cum fetish.”

“Mmm. Weirdly into this.” “Weirdly?” Nate said breathlessly, attempting to lift his head before giving up and letting it flop back down.

“I guess I’m one of those people.” My tongue darted out again for another taste. “I’m not gonna put it on my chips instead of mayo or anything, but yeah, I like it.”

Last night, I’d told him again that he was gorgeous, but that wasn’t a good enough word to describe him. He was beautiful, inside and out. He took my breath away, made my stomach swoop every time I was around him, occupied my thoughts day and night, and I knew that no matter how much time we spent together, it would never be enough.

This was everything I needed, right here. The sun on my skin, a football at my feet, and the company of the person who was beginning to mean everything to me.

“Yeah. Your dick.” His fingers moved, and I realised he was using his cum to draw a heart shape on my skin. “Your dick, attached to you, you sexy, possessive fucker.” “I’m not possessive.” It was a lie. I was…of him. I’d never been this way before. Flashing me a grin, he drew another heart, but when he started drawing stick figures, I clamped my hand down over his, stilling his motions. “My abs are not a canvas, and your cum is not paint.” “Says you. Yet I’m here drawing pictures all over you.”

next to me. He squeezed my shoulder. “I just want you to be happy, and you and Charlie both light up whenever you talk about each other. And when I saw you together at the student union that night…the way you looked at him…there was no doubt in my mind.” I swallowed hard. “How did I look at him?” He gave me a sad smile. “You looked at him the way Jada looked at me when she was falling in love with me.”

Those three words echoed through my mind, over and over. Even when he eased inside me, filling me like nothing I could have ever imagined, they played on a loop inside my brain. He made love to me. That was what it was, no matter what either of us said. My words were silent, only spoken inside me, but his were whispered across my chest, pressed into my skin, breathed into my mouth, over and over again until I was lost to it.

“I love you, Charlie Brooks. I love you so much. I can find another postgrad course, but I can’t find another you.”