Molly launched herself at Jake with such force that, if he were a weaker guy, he might have fallen over. But outside of that, he didn't mind. He liked the way she felt and loved the way she tasted. 

With her lips against his, her tongue darting in, he could finally taste her.

She tasted like iced tea and Juicy Fruit gum. Not a likely combination, but Molly made it work somehow. This whole thing was working out much better than he thought it would even five minutes ago. Was it only five minutes? He wasn't expecting this to happen so quickly. 

Then again, was this happening too quickly? 

"Molly—"

"Less talking," she gasped into his mouth, her hand on his belt.

And now she was stripping him. He wasn't expecting this to go there, not that he was complaining, but just to be sure... "Hey, do you think we should--"

"Strip?" Molly finished for him. "I agree."

He huffed out a laugh. "I mean that I was thinking we should go get some--"

"Dinner? Later."

"Okay. But maybe first, we should--"

"What? See a movie? Share a meal?" Molly stared at him incredulously. "Yeah. We never do that."

"Just asking if you wanted--"

"Chivalry noted, but I'm good," she said, sliding her hands around his neck, lips tugging on his earlobe.

"Yeah, you are," he breathed, deciding that was a good enough try. He didn't actually want to do anything else, either. Not when there were suddenly so many soft things to grab. There were hips. Those were nice. There were also breasts. After being denied twice, there was this sudden cloud of her around him, on him, all over him. It was hard to know what to grab first. He started by kissing back, barely believing his luck.

He knew she wanted him, that she couldn't say no again, but he also didn't expect such an enthusiastic yes. 

He'd barely been able to set the scene from the time he heard her pull up till the moment she appeared in the doorway. He probably could have spent the hour since he texted her scene-setting, but he'd been too busy panicking, also airing out and cleaning because this place had been a real craphole after having sat unused for over two years. Even without that, this cabin was usually the place where old furniture went to die.

He'd wasted a good fifteen minutes trying to figure out what to do about the ugly, flowered granny couch before tossing a giant afghan over it. By the time he heard her calling his name, he was frantically looking around for an excuse for luring her up here. 

He knew Molly well enough that she would readily drive up a mountain for him. He also knew that, after making her drive an hour up a mountain, nothing short of an emergency would suffice unless... unless he could make it worth her while. And yes, Juliet had all but told him that Molly wanted him, but was that enough?

As he heard Molly quite loudly moving up the stairs, he'd took several deep breaths, telling himself he could find that Crystal Jake within himself and, of course, making sure to get his shirt off. 

That last was pretty much his only legitimate move.

But that was all time well spent now. Because this was working. Molly wasn't just kissing him, she was undressing him because... Holy shit! His belt was gone. When had she done that? 

He'd thought that maybe, just maybe, they'd get to some fooling around and that would be enough. This was way more than enough. He was trying to figure out if it was too much.

He pulled away slightly. "This is happening?" he squeaked. "This is happening," he repeated quickly, without the question mark. He remembered the version of him that Molly couldn't say no to, and it wasn't some squeaky weirdo. It was just really hard to bring up that confident, out-of-his-own-way crystal version of him when this was happening.

She didn't seem to have noticed, just kept kissing him some more, pulling him down just as he was trying to pull her up. He won, of course. It was a definite advantage, being taller and stronger. Another was that he could hold her against him, feeling all of her nicest bits right where he wanted them.

He pressed her against the wall, which she didn't seem to mind, her body straining against his as her arms flailed wildly. Several framed wildlife photos hit the floor with muffled crashes that he couldn't bring himself to care about.

How could he when her breasts rubbed right against his chest through yet another flimsy tank top, her bottom rested in his hands, when her legs snaked around his waist, when he could feel that fleeting warmth under her jeans? He wanted to get them off right this second, but that seemed wrong somehow, not when he hadn't even seen her breasts. He could see them now, right this second. This was happening!

He pressed her harder against the wall and freed his hands. It was hard, taking them off her butt, but if it meant bare breasts, then he could survive it. 

"Fuck, Molly..." He started to pull at the neck of her shirt. Stupid thing just wouldn't budge. He tugged harder, but she stopped him.

"It doesn't come off that way."

"Yeah," he breathed. "I knew that." He needed to calm down or he'd blow the whole thing. "I was only loosening it for you."

She stared hard at him, her lips pursed. "Jake, are you okay?"

"Me? Fine." He was horrified to hear his own voice, all squeaky again. He cleared his throat quickly and tilted his head to the side, trying a smile "Just making sure you're ready for this... Babe." Did that sound sexy and confident? He hoped so. Because her "yes" could still change to a "no" and it damned sure would unless he played it cool.

She raised an eyebrow. "Babe?"

Okay. Bad pet name. Move on. He leaned in, letting his lips brush over that spot under her ear. "Know what would be really hot?"

She shivered. Yeah. That's the spot. "What?" she asked, her voice barely even a whisper.

"If I could watch you take it off." Especially since he'd already proven inept at realizing that shirts come off over the head in his state.

"Yeah?"

He bit lightly at the spot, gaining confidence when she shook against him again. "Yeah."

She pushed at him and he felt a flash of panic, as if this would all end right now. Her hair was black – something he'd only now noticed. When someone dyed their hair as often as Molly did, a guy developed a tendency to look past the hair, but he saw it now. He'd only seen her with black hair twice: when they took the SATs and when they went for their college interviews. She'd said it made her feel like she was in charge. 

She wasn't wrong. It was now, as then, strangely intimidating.

This Molly might slap his face and walk out. The slapping might not hurt much, but the leaving might kill him. His mind settled when she slid down, between him and the wall, smiling. She pushed him backward, still with that siren's smile.

"If that's what you want." Her hands moved to the hem of her shirt as he took a step back. She started to pull it up, revealing sweet, sweet skin, then she stopped. "This is what you want, isn't it?"

"Yuh-huh," he breathed, his eyes wide.

She stared at him for a long moment before pulling the shirt up and over her head.

Bra. Red bra. Silky.

He tore his eyes from the bra because her hands were moving to her pants. He actually hadn't thought this far ahead, hadn't imagined that pants would be flying off, but he had no objection. This was getting way hotter than he'd been prepared for. His mind was racing, wondering if the panties matched. 

Please, God, let the panties match. 

He wasn't sure if God answered the lust-fueled pleas of undersexed idiots. In a perfect world, He would. Then again, God was said to work in mysterious ways. He found that confirmed when she peeled the zipper down.

Not matching panties. It was better than that.

No panties.

He fell back and the ancient couch caught him with a loud groaning, cracking noise.

She stopped, her jeans only halfway down her thighs. "What was that?"

"Nothing! Please, don't..." He tried to relax. This was no time to beg. That crystal version of him didn't beg. "Don't stop now," Jake drawled, angling for nonchalance, though he had the slight feeling he was coming off spastic. "It's just... getting good."

She frowned, standing before him in only her bra and half-in her jeans. "Jake, are you sure you don't want to talk?"

"Talk?" He snorted. "Come on, why would I want to talk?" Maybe because he was about to have sex with his best friend. Maybe because he was about to have sex at all. After only two sexual partners, and two years dry, he was really off his game. And that was if he had any game to begin with!

Then again, were they going to have sex? Had sex been confirmed? He really shouldn't just assume sex was happening just because she was undressing. Perhaps he needed more clues. 

He was pretty much letting her take the lead... which wasn't how it was supposed to go down. He was supposed to be confident, draw her in, like before, until she couldn't say no. He wasn't supposed to be scared out of his wits. He was supposed to be confident, like Crystal Jake.

He took a deep breath. "I need to see you," he finally said shakily. That much was true. He possibly needed it too much.

She tilted her head, then smiled slightly. "Okay, then." She pushed her jeans down, bending with the movement. She kicked off her shoes with them, leaving her only in white ankle socks and a red bra. It was strangely sexy, though incomplete and slightly silly.

He was seriously hoping the bra would be next, but she went for the socks. His eyes stayed on her toes for a moment. He saw that the nails were painted red before the red bra dropped at her feet. He lifted his eyes and sort of froze, mouth slack and possibly drooling.

He'd never thought of himself as a having a type. Throughout puberty, he considered Juliet his type, but Juliet practically stepped out of the pages of a magazine, so she was probably everyone's type. After failing to land her, something he now knew was impossible, he'd sort of gravitated to whatever girl would have him: that college girl who'd never told him her name was wiry and athletic, Rachel was busty and tall, the girls in college were... he couldn't even remember them right now because Molly was right in front of him and very naked and he was starting to think compact and curvy was definitely his type.

"Jake? You feeling okay?" She moved closer.

He blinked at her before his eyes moved hungrily over her her curves, and leaned back on the couch, trying for some of that nonchalance again "I'm great." He reached a hand toward her and tugged. She landed on his lap, all soft and bouncing slightly. He'd think that would be enough to get him over this. "I need a minute to..." Calm down, relax, go find a real crystal! 

The smelly-ass sewers were looking like an option right now.

She touched the side of his face. "You're shaking."

"I am?"

"It's okay, Jake. I'm shaky, too."

"You? You're not even a little..." He stopped, shaking his head. "I'm not shaky. Definitely not scared, either. Scared that I'll be so good I'll ruin other sex for you... maybe," he finished lamely.

"Oh, Jake," she said softly, leaning her forehead against his, "just give it up. You've never been a good liar."

TBC