Please Don't Go (The Midnight Strike, #1)

by E. Salvador

“You realize we’re standing on the staircase. Pretty positive this doesn’t count as celebrating.” “It is as long as you’re spending it with the person you want to be with.”

“How we celebrate doesn’t matter, as long as I get to be with you.”

“I…I get weird and I move and you’ll get annoyed and things will get weird. Trust me, I’m doing you a favor.” “Can I be the judge of that?”

“Is this okay?” “As long as it’s okay with you.” I nod and then he asks, “Can I put my arm over you?”

“You’re safe, Josefine. I promise.” I twist my head to look up at him. “I know.”

And I hate that because I’m not special, yet he makes me feel like I am.

I want to look away, but I find myself doing the same, staring at his lips. I don’t let myself think this time as I lift my head and meet his lips halfway. He softly kisses me, not rushing with lust or hungrily like something he needs to get over with. He takes his time as if he were savoring me. When he pulls back, he smiles down at me, places a chaste kiss to my forehead and holds me like I’m his. It’s dangerous I know, but at this moment, I pretend like I am his and not a disintegrating mess.

“Let them sort it out. I’m not getting involved. The last time I did, I got punched and then I punched them and they got mad at me.”

The kiss we shared, her letting me hold her as if she were mine, and then falling asleep on me. She hadn’t meant to and looked so disconcerted when she woke up. I wanted to beg her to stay, but I knew she felt frazzled about it. So I let her leave.

“You know, I like her.” My back goes rigid at the way he said that. “Not like that.”

I’ve been spiraling with fantasies I’m not proud of. She tastes so good, feels so right, and…I’m zoning out. “Hey,” she says and stands next to me, but she doesn’t pull up a chair. They all greet her, smiles wide on their faces. “Sit.”

“You remembered how I like my sandwich?” I remember everything about you. “Yeah, and oh…” I open the cooler next to me and pull out a can of Dr. Pepper. “Here.”

“So, Josie,” Gray starts. “You looking for a new roommate?” “If you are, don’t pick him. Pick me. Choose me,”

“You know, I have money.” Gray flashes her one of those charming, Cheshire-like smiles. “Congrats. I do too.”

“Not sure you’re going to want to do that. I’m fast and I’d hate to⁠—” “Also, why didn’t you answer my email?” Gray interjects. “I wanted swimming lessons too.” She huffs out a breath. “Because I didn’t want to.” The guys laugh and I, well, I can’t help but fall deeper. I’m not what she needs.

“Okay, that’s fair…” More mindless conversation and my palm now rests on her thigh. I’m not what she needs, but she’s who I want.

Pen doesn’t want us to and she’s too sweet; she just wants to keep the peace. An idea comes to mind. “You know…I have experience slashing tires.”

And if you don’t like any of those songs, I don’t want to hear it. Matter of fact, you can’t dislike them.” “I’m not sure I have anything to put this in.”

“I don’t feel bad for you. You shared, I listened, and now I want to do something about it. I want to compromise. Don’t push me away, Josefine. Please, let me help.”

“I might get mad.” “That’s okay.” “I’m serious.” “I’m serious too.” “I tend to be a control freak. I’m not kidding.” “I like when you tell me what to do.”

“I’m—okay, but just know you’ve been warned. Don’t get mad at me when I get mad at you.”

“I could never get mad at you.”

We haven’t done anything since we kissed on the couch. He hasn’t made a move, so I wasn’t going to either. “Darn, that didn’t work?”

“You know, if you believed in yourself as much as you believe in that quirky stance of yours, you’d already know how to swim.”

“You should come to a game.” His gaze flicks to my chest, lingering there before it lifts. “I’m good.” My nipples tighten. “No, I’m serious. Come to a game.”

deal?” “Every time I improve, you come to a game. If I learn how to swim, you come to all, or at least the home games.”

“Okay, deal but you have to make improvements or I don’t go,” I sternly say. “And you have to wear my jersey.” I narrow my eyes, shaking my head. “No.”

“I’ll keep begging. You know I will.” I close my eyes as my shoulders tense with anticipation. “Don’t care.”

“Still no…” “I can beg all night, Jos.” “Don’t you have a game tomorrow?” “What does that have to do with anything?”

“God, you’re such a—” His jaw tics, eyes darker than they’ve ever been. “I’m a what?” My pussy clenches.

“Can I kiss you? And don’t play games with me right now. Yes or no? If I can’t, I need to get out.”

“Josie?” he presses, voice brimming with frustration and desperation. “Yes or no?” “Hmmm…I don’t know,” I say softly, innocently. “What don’t you know?” he grits. “If that’s where I want you to kiss me.” I squeeze my thighs as my clit pulses. He drops his hand, cupping the back of my neck and rests his forehead against mine, breathing out a string of curse words in Spanish. “Okay,” he speaks almost too quietly, and I think he’s going to get out of the pool but then he kisses me.

He must read my thoughts because he says, “I’m okay, right here. I’m okay as long as you’re okay.” “I’m okay.” I heave a breath, my chest rising and falling rapidly. “As long as you’re okay, Garcia, I’m okay.”

“Whatever you’re thinking, just do it,” I whisper against him, as if it were a secret he and I are sharing.

“Fuck, Josie,” he groans and lifts me a little higher so that my breasts are closer to his face. “I dream of this. I dream of you,”

really want to taste you again,” he roughly says and hooks his fingers under my bottoms and tugs at them. I easily comply, lifting my butt to help him take them off. He flippantly tosses the wet material somewhere. “Fuck, Josie, you’re dripping, baby.” I can’t be hallucinating this time. I know what I heard, and I want him to call me that again. “I was just in the pool.”

“No, you’re dripping.” He spreads my pussy lips with one hand, and with the other, drags two fingers from my slit down to my entrance. My toes curl and fingernails scrape against the ground. He lifts his fingers and they glisten. “Come here,” he orders. And I do. “Open your mouth.” And I do.

“Close and suck, baby. Taste yourself. That’s not water. That’s all you.”

“What part did you like?” He stares at my pussy, keeping it parted. “Tasting yourself?” I pulse again. “That I made you do it?” Once again. “Or being called baby?” I shiver, every inch of me yearning to hear it again. “Josie, baby, is that what you like?” He sounds on edge, his voice a gruff rasp.

“Yeah,” I whisper meekly, feeling weird to admit that out loud. “I like you like this.”

“Shy and stubborn…” His gaze is trained on my pussy and legs, they tremble and clench every time his fingers reach my sensitive clit.

“And impatient too.” He groans. My eyes connect with his hungry ones and if I could, I’d flip him off. “Shut up. You were taking too long,”

“No. I get to finish you off. You did so good, but now it’s my turn.” He sinks down but looks up at me. “Wipe your fingers on your tits and make sure you do a good job.”

He watches me as if he were making sure I did as he instructed. Once he’s satisfied, he sucks my clit into his mouth and thrusts two fingers inside me. “Oh God,” I gasp, my body jerking forward.

“Danny, I need to come,” I plead, on the verge of tears. “I’m getting you there, baby.”

time with you. Letting me taste you, fuck your cunt with my fingers. You’re doing so good. You taste so good.”

“Please,” I whisper shakily. “Please…” My voice slips as he drives his tongue into my entrance and his fingers pinch my clit. “Oh…” I grind my clattering teeth, fisting my shaky hands at my sides.

“I can’t.” I pull away from him, my body thrashing. “I can’t take this…”

He carries on and moans, the vibration from his mouth heightening everything.

“Don’t stop. Please don’t stop,” I chant incessantly, desperately, and fist his hair, grinding myself against his face. “Mmmm…yes! Yes!” I squeal out, my body aggressively convulsing.