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strode down the hallway. When Cropper had flung him back against the wall, he’d had a hard-on.
    As though he’d been getting off looking at Madison’s rack.

CHAPTER FIVE
    MADISON
    A fter Ford kissed me, things got strange between us.
    Even though Cropper had pulled him away to go on a run, I held out huge hopes that we’d continue down that sexual path.
    I was constantly wet. My pussy literally trembled with desire almost every waking moment. It made it very difficult to focus on my studies when I was trying to read six feet away from Ford. His long legs would be stretched out as he read his books—he almost always preferred reading to watching TV—and if he wasn’t wearing his cut he was shirtless, or worse, lifting weights.
    He lifted a lot more weights after we kissed. I took a lot more quick showers, to the point where Ingrid had the nerve to yell about the water bill. I wondered if Ford was working out some frustration too. If he saw me watching as he did bench presses in the backyard, it seemed as if he worked even harder. I knew it was just a matter of time before we brushed up against each other in the hallway and Ford pressed another big, wet, open-mouthed kiss on me. A kiss full of love, with his juicy, fat dick humping up against my pussy mound.
    Two weeks passed and Ford didn’t bring up the kiss. He couldn’t possibly know how worked up he’d gotten me. It was better than my craziest imaginings when he humped that long, fat cock against my ass. I lifted my ass to him because I wanted nothing more than for him to spear me with that dick. I wanted him to take me like an animal from behind, I wanted to feel his dick spurt cum deep inside me—jism, his beloved Miller always called it.
    I wanted to be the receptacle for all his bodily fluids. I wanted every tease of my hips, every clutch of my inner pussy to bring him joy and more joy. I quite literally wanted to feel his manhood, corny as it sounds, buried deep up against my womb, wanted to feel his thickness pulse, hear him cry out in ecstasy.
    I wanted to watch him fucking me in the mirror.
    Ford was carved like a turkey, his body a sublimely sculpted work of art. I wanted to watch his glutes contract as he swiveled his hips into me. His tattoos would undulate with each pump of his pelvis.
    I was a virgin and had never wanted that before, but now I wanted it as though it were life itself. “Either you believe in miracles or you stand still like the hummingbird.” I took this to mean that if I gave up on Ford, all would be lost. The human psyche needs to believe in something, or depression grabs ahold of you.
    After two weeks I started slamming dishes and books around, just irritated beyond belief, on a hormonal rampage. It was one of the last days of school and Ford was dropping me off in the morning at our usual spot. The usual kids started crowding around—I had suddenly become popular when I’d gained a brother who was in a motorcycle club.
    This time, though, I just suddenly adjusted my backpack, not meeting Ford’s gaze as he tried to say goodbye. I tromped off, my lower lip sticking out, desperately wanting Ford to follow me. Luckily, he did, brushing off all the hang-arounds who drooled over him and his bike.
    “Madison.”
    He didn’t even call me Maddy anymore since the pool kissing incident.
    I twirled to face him, wondering what dumbass thing he wanted now, like “what’s for dinner?”
    “Hey. You’ve been so quiet. Everything all right?”
    Already, tears stung my eyes! I prided myself on being so cool, remote, and unfeeling. I’m telling you, though, being forced to look at those sensuous, bowed, Roman lips was enough to set any girl off on a crying jag. I found myself saying, “No, Ford, everything is not okay. You kiss me one day and ignore me the next. What am I supposed to think?” I felt like such a petulant schoolgirl. I should’ve stamped my little foot for emphasis. Really, at least I was standing up for myself