Heated Fight

(Jordyn's POV)

As soon as I remove my seatbelt from my body, he gabs my face passionately and kisses me even harder than before. I pull at his hair in my hands and kiss him below his ear. That most be his sweet spot because as soon as I do, he lets out a breathy moan. I feel something inside myself pull with want when I hear him make this sound so I impatiently make my way to his neck. He mirrors my actions.

"This wasn't a smart idea." I feel him whisper in his deep voice in my ear. His hot breath on my skin sends waves of shivers up my spine. Electric desire flows through my veins.

"Why is that?" I breathlessly ask in between kisses.

"Because, I'm not sure I'm gonna be able to control myself long enough to drive to our destination."

"Who said you had to control yourself? I told you I would drive." My lips collide with his, begging him to lose control.

"Well... we just met and I... I want to respect you..." He manages to spit out as my sluggish lips take their place on his neck once more. His head tilts back naturally as I do so.

"Hart, it's not like you're trying to fuck me in a parking lot. We're just kissing." I assure him through my light giggle. "And I don't want to move too fast either, but it's hard for me to keep my hands off you. Especially when you decided to take it upon yourself to lick my fingers clean."

He chuckles darkly. "I thought you might of enjoy that." Our lips meet and his tongue gently dances with mine.

As I worry-or fantasize about what will occur when we get on the bus, I remember we're on a time crunch. "Wait." I pull myself from his hold. He leans forward, chasing my lips.

"What?" He whines like a child.

"We have to go. I'm not gonna make you any later then you were already gonna be because of me."

"It's alright. Really. We can be a little late, can't we?" He tries to convince.

"No." I chuckle. "You have a show tomorrow-

"We have a show tomorrow."

"Okay, so we can't be late for our show. We need to head back. And think of it this way, the sooner we get back, the sooner we can, um..."

"Get naked?" He suggests nonchalantly. My jaw drops. "I'm joking. We won't take that step unto we're both ready."

I nod at his assuring words.

We continue on the road. We're both pretty quiet for the rest of the ride there. Maybe he's trying to cool off after that kiss as well? But the question is, do we want to cool off? I don't think I do.

I know we just met, but everything with him is so easy. If silence falls between us, it's a comfortable silence. There's no awkwardness. As cheesy as it sounds, I feel like myself when I'm with him. I feel free for the first time in my life.

Yes, I get nervous when he looks at me a certain way-make that any way-or talks in that low, raspy voice of his. But that's a good kind of nervous. It's the kind that possibility follows. It's hopeful and exciting. Like Hart.

But I can't shake the nerves that appear when I imagine Harry and I taking that next step. I'm not... experienced. I've been so focused on work and saving money to get the hell out of Pickens since I was 16, I haven't been worried about a relationship of any kind. I haven't had time to, or made the time to for that matter.

What if he thinks I'm lame. I know he's experienced. Not that I hold it against him in any way, that's not my place to do so. Not ever. But... what if he loses interest after he learns my little secret.

Does being a virgin at twenty and not letting everyone know count as a secret?

It's not like I'm gonna keep it a secret from him. I'll tell him anything he wants to know. And deep down I know my inexperience won't change his option of me, but I'm still paranoid it might.

I guess I'll find out sooner or later.

Once we reach the venue, Hart takes my bags out of trunk and carries them on the bus and gives me a silent tour, trying not to wake his sleeping band. We get settled in on the bus. He sets my sets things down on the full size bed and I don't wait long to unzip it and get out a pair of pajamas.

"Um, the bathrooms right here. The shower doesn't work so, sorry I might not smell the best."

He smells amazing.

"I was meant to take my shower at the venue we were at but-

"I'm sorry. That's my fault. I-

"It's alright. We can get a shower tomorrow at the hotel." His eyes go a little wide. "I mean, you get a shower, then I get a shower. Separately." He smiles embarrassed at his little miscommunication.

"Okay." I giggle, patting his chest. "I'll be out in a minute."

"Take your time."

I freshen up. Cleaning my face of my makeup and brushing my teeth. Taking once lace glance in the mirror, I open the door. Tucking some stray hairs behind my ears. "I'm... done." I'm caught off guard when I see him in only his black boxers, laid out comfortably on top of the comforter. Hands behind his head and legs sprawled out a bit instead of crossed at the ankles.

Don't blush-

Too late.

He lifts his head up. "Sorry, I usually sleep commando, so I figured this was the next best thing." He smiles innocently.

Innocent my ass. Watch yourself, Sloan. Two can play at this game.

"Yeah, I thought it'd be better if I slept with my clothes on too." I admit just as innocent as he portrayed to be.

"Do you usually sleep commando?" He smirks curiously, his eyes lighting up with excitement at our current topic of conversation.

"No, I sleep in just my panties most of the time. Unless I'm really cold. Then I put my clothes back on." I try desperately to keep a straight face and manage out of stubbornness instead of skill.

It's true, actually. And I know it's killing him, like he's killing me.

"Just when I thought you couldn't get any sexier." He grins devilishly. "So tell me, are you cold..." He looks me up and down slowly. "Or hot, tonight?"

"Shit! My cheeks are already way too rosy to start with!" I cover the deep shade of pink painted across my cheeks with my hands.

He gets off the bed and takes my hands in his. "I think you and your rosy cheeks are beautiful. You don't have to cover them up for me." He kisses both of my rosy cheeks, making me blush even harder. If that's possible.

"There you go again, being a perfect gentleman."

He chuckles softly under his breath as I wrap my arms around his neck, pulling him closer towards me. "And to answer your question, I think I'm gonna have to be cold tonight so we can actually get some sleep."

"Fine. If you insists." He sighs on my lips before kissing them. It wasn't a hot or steamy kiss like before. It was a sweet kiss. One where we lost ourselves in each other.

After our kiss has ended, I'm dizzy and at a loss of balance, not that I have much balance to lose in the first place. Once we're in bed he pulls me into his strong arms right away. His fingertips gently running through my hair.

"What made you start singing?" He breaks the silence that has invaded the small room.

"Well... I started writing songs when I was about six, but I never really put my whole heart into it until I got to middle school." I answer as I'm taken back to the first time I wrote a song and felt something bigger than just myself.

"What made you start then?" He wonders with his voice soft and sweet.

"I needed a filter. If I had to hold all those feelings I had back then in without a way to release them... I don't think I would of made it. I know I wouldn't have." I pause for a moment collecting my thoughts. Hart waits patiently for me to continue. "I guess... I've always had a broken heart. Every time I got close to healing, someone would just... swoop in and break me all over again."

His arms around me tighten comfortingly. "I'm so sorry, Jordyn."

"It's alright, Hart."

"No it isn't. You don't deserve to get your heart broken by the people you love. It's not fair." His voice broke a bit.

"It isn't... but that's just how it is. At least for me. But my whole family isn't like that. At least not anymore. My mom and I are in a good place now. And there's, Angie. She's kind of like another mom to me. So I've got two mom, I guess. And there's my best friend, Mona. You'd love her, by the way. But all of them, that's good enough for me. Who needs a dad and a step monster? And you know... the rest of my family..." I try and joke.

I don't think Hart got it. If he did, he doesn't find it funny.

"Sorry! I have to joke about it, Hart. That's the only way I can accept the fact that most of my family sees me as a disappointment, even if I'm successful." I laugh nervously throughout my explanation.

"That's awful." He chuckles out, his laughter hitting my ear.

"I know." We laugh for a moment, then he changes the subject.

"So... why haven't you asked me a million questions about-

"Meaningless shit that you get asked all the time?" I suggest boldly.

"Yeah... I think?"

"Because, I don't care about how many cars you own or how much money you have or why they band you were in broke up-well..."

Okay, who wouldn't want to know?

"Anyway, What I'm trying to say is that I care about the real things that matter. Like your favorite Friends episode. Or the song that always cheers you up on a bad day. The first time you knew you were meant to sing. Okay, well these things are important to me, but they might not be to you. I don't know-

"My favorite episode is The One With All The Thanksgivings. You know where Joey and Monica have the turkey on their head?"

"Yeah! I love that one!" I break out in a joyous laughter a I reply the senes in my head.

"It's a classic! And the song that makes my day better would probably be... anything Stevie Nicks. And the time I knew I was meant to sing... I don't know to be honest. I kind of always just, knew."

"Thank you for sharing all that with me. It means a lot to me." I explain genuinely as my heart warms.

"Thank you for asking." His hand tangles with mine. "So, what about you?"

"Favorite episode would be... The One With George Stephanopoulos. Song on a bad day..."

Nope. Not telling him that one.

"What?"

"I can't tell you that."

"Why not?! I told you! You have to tell me." He jokingly argues.

"No way." I shake my head, confident I won't break under his charm this time.

"Why?!" He cries.

"I'm not telling you." I inform him yet again. He's not getting his way this time.

"Yes, you will. I'll get it out of you." He says overly confidently.

Shit. That's never good.

"How?" My curiosity gets the better of me and forces me to ask the stupid question I don't actually want the answer to.

"Like this." He begins to tickle me all over. "Tell me the song!" He chuckles his words.

"Never!" I giggle unwillingly.

"Tell me!" He tickles me more.

"Hart! Stop! I'm not-

I'm laughing so hard I can barely breathe.

"What's the song?!" He laughs out the question.

"No!" I manage to spit out.

"I'm not gonna stop until you-

"Into It! It's your fucking song, Into It!" I admit, finally able to catch my breath again.

His fingers finally stop running evilly over my skin. I look over to find Hart hurled over.

Is he breathing?

"Hart?" I worriedly try to meet his eyes. "Are you okay?"

"Ahh haaa!" He burst out in the most obnoxious laughter I've ever whiteness.

"Oh, fuck you Hart!" I giggle embarrassed at my pathetic self.

"My song is the one that makes your day better? Ah ha! That's bloody amazing! What are the odds?" He wipes some happy tears off of the corners of his eyes.

He's still laughing his ass off when I interrupt. "Aww, you think that's funny, do you? Do you really?"

Revenge is sweet.

I return the torture of tickling him until his face turns as red as my cheeks. "You still think it's funny?"

"Yes!" He admits, laughing his answer.

"You asshole!" I tickle him harder.

"Alright! I can't breathe! I can't breathe!"

"Now you know how it feels!" I pause for a split second when I realize I'm on top of him with my legs on either side of his hips.

In this short second he regains enough strength to push me on my back and get on top of me. This time, he doesn't tickle me back.

"What are you doing?" I ask nervously due to our current position.

He leans down and kisses me ever so softly at first, then harder as he continues. I feel his mouth burn on my skin. From my collarbone to my lips, my neck to my ear, his soft sweet lips explore me.

I run my hands slowly down his back and feel his hard mussels beneath his smooth skin. His hips eventually grind against mine. And this small yet effective action causes my body to flow with confidence. I throw my nerves to the wind and push him on his back, jumping at the opportunity to get on top of him suddenly.

That's when I notice a not so small body part trying to poke it's way out of the black fabric that is Hart's briefs.