+++seventeen+++

WARNING: This contains scenes of a frank and sexual nature, viewer discretion is advised.

(Two hours later)

"Dammit, I gotta piss so bad…" Justin said for what must have been the fiftieth time in five minutes.

"Nobody told you to drink all that milk," JC laughed.

"Yeah, sucks having all these females around," Travis said, patting him on the shoulder, referring to the fact that Maddie, Wendy and Nicole were all taking their sweet times in the showers. Everyone else had already gotten ready.

"What females? There's only Maddie and Nicole," Joey said.

"Well, Wendy practically lives her and between the three of them, they got enough attitude to equal about ten women," Mike scoffed.

"You got a problem with that?" Heather spoke up from her perch on Chris' lap.

"Uh…no."

"Good answer," Chris said wryly.

"Just knock on the door and tell my dad that you have to go," Paul suggested. Ron had his own bathroom off of his room and was taking a bath.

"No way," Justin vigorously shook his head, curls bouncing. "I'm not going in there with your dad!"

"Or go in with Maddie."

"Uh uh!"

"Dude, she's in the shower, she's not going to see you," Lance pointed out.

"I'm not gonna piss while she's in there."

"Dammit, Justin, go water the plants outside for all I care, just shut the hell up about it," Jen grumbled, her head resting on JC's thigh. JC, who had been lightly combing through her hair with his fingers, gave her hair a gentle tug as a reprimand. She shot him an apologetic look and returned her attention to the drama unfolding before her.

"Oh shit." Justin began to dance around in his uncomfort, trying to hold his bodily fluids at bay.

"Gah, you big baby! C'mon!" Jen got up from the couch, walked over to Justin, grabbed his hand, and dragged him upstairs.

"Jen…what are you doing? Jen…stop…STOP!"

Justin's protests ended when Jen stopped in front of a closed door. She knocked once and then opened it. She had to step back as steam from the shower rushed out to meet her. She called out, "Hey Maddie?"

"Yeah?" Madison called back.

"Justin has to pee and he's getting on my nerves so can he go in here?"

"Yeah, sure," Jen heard the laughter in Maddie's voice.

She turned to face a gaping Justin. He looked ridiculous standing there, eyes bugged out, mouth forming an 'O'. "See? Problem solved. Hop to it!" She slapped him on the behind and skipped her way down the stairs, humming softly to herself.

Justin was dumbfounded. There was no way in hell he was gonna go in there, pull his pants down and take care of his business with nothing separating him from total embarrassment but a flimsy layer of plastic. And then Maddie called his name.

"Justin?"

He tried not to picture her…standing under the pelting spray of the water, body naked and wet…

"Justin, it's OK for you to come in here, my brothers do it all the time."

Justin considered telling her that it was all a joke and going back downstairs. He stood there for a second, debating. Eventually, his bladder, and his common sense, won out. He knew that if he went downstairs, bladder still full to bursting, Jen would never leave him alone. And then she'd tell Maddie how it wasn't a joke and had never been a joke; he was just too chicken and insecure. Which was true. But he didn't think he could handle that level of humiliation. And then Heather would pick up on it and once the two of them were in it together, that was all she wrote. He sighed and said softly, "OK."

He walked into the bathroom and closed the door. He looked at the shower curtain and thanked his lucky stars that it was a dark, opaque blue and that he wouldn't be getting any glimpses of her silhouette. Or her of him.

He reached down and lifted the lid of the toilet seat. Taking a deep breath, he unzipped his pants. He glanced back at the shower curtain before reaching inside and pulling himself out. Almost before the tip had cleared his clothes, his bladder let go and he had to breathe a sigh of relief. His eyes rolled into the back of his head and his jaw hung slack as he relieved himself.

Justin had no idea how long he stood there, head back, eyes closed, penis in hand. He even managed to forget about Maddie on the other side of the plastic. He finished, adjusted himself, fixed his clothing and flushed the toilet. He looked again at the shower curtain and sighed, wishing he could be in there with her. He forced himself to look away. He washed his hands and left, quietly closing the door behind him.

Jen looked up when Justin walked back down the stairs. "Feel better?" she asked.

"Yup," he nodded with a smile.

(An hour and a half later)

The party was going full tilt. The furniture had been moved back to clear the floor. Extra chairs had been brought in and placed near the walls. Ron had locked himself in his room with some CD's, a Discman, and the latest Dean Koontz. Jen was in the kitchen, playing bartender and everyone else was taste testing. She was free pouring, not measuring anything out, and she wanted to make sure that everything was tasting like it's supposed to. Maddie had taken a liking to her Long Island Iced Teas: vodka, gin, rum, triple sec, sweet-n-sour, Coke and Jen's very own special ingredients: peach schnapps and sour apple pucker. Maddie had already had two glasses of it already and was none-too-steady on her feet.

The doorbell rang and Chris popped up to answer it. He opened the door, "Welcome to Good Burger, home of the Good Burger, can I take your order?"

"Lord, Chris, quit terrorizing my friends," Maddie pushed him to the side. "Hey! Come on in!"

Maddie hugged the two girls who had joined the party. Lance, who had been idly flirting with a short redhead named Lucy, looked up…and stared.

She was short, shorter than most of the girls he went out with. With dark hair and eyes, her smile captivated him. He watched as she greeted Wendy and Nicole. His eyes remained glued to her as she drew closer.

"Lance," Wendy said, throwing her arm around Lance's mystery girl's companion's waist, "this is Crystal and this is Kristina." She smiled at the three of them, then walked off to play hostess.

The good manners his mother had instilled in him kept him in good stead as he conversed with the two girls. He was too much of a gentleman to concentrate solely on Kristina, which is what he wanted to do. Instead, he made small talk. It turned out that they had gone to high school with Maddie and Wendy and they had all been on the drill team together. He looked them up and down and then flirtatiously commented that they both had the bodies to be dancers. They shared a glance then smiled and thanked him. Crystal was in the middle of telling Lance about the new dance team that she was on, the Southwest Texas State Strutters, when Paul walked up to her, smiled at Lance and Kristina, grabbed Crystal's hand and dragged her away.

"Oh God," Kristina muttered under her breath as she watched Crystal willingly follow.

"What?" Lance turned back to her.

"Now they're gonna go make out and I don't know anybody here besides Maddie and them and they gotta play hostess all night."

"Well," Lance looked down and then peeked at her through his eyelashes," you know me."

Kristina just smiled.

"You want a drink?" he asked her.

"Yeah."

"Jen's playing bartender tonight so I'm sure that whatever you want is gonna be twice as strong as it's supposed to be," he kidded as they walked to the bar.

"Lancelot!" Jen called, obviously having sampled more than a few of her alcoholic creations. "Who's your friend? Lancey-Pants gonna get laid tonight?"

Embarrassed and blushing, Lance said to Kristina, "You'll have to forgive her. We don't let her out often so when we do, she tends to run wild."

"Oh. Gotcha," Kris' smile faltered slightly. She was a little intimidated. It felt weird to be standing next to one-fifths of the hottest-selling act on the planet and to see him converse with his friends in the same goofy manner that she conversed with her own was slightly unsettling.

"Ignore him, he just needs to get laid," Jen drawled. "What can I do you for?"

"Um," Kristina racked her brain trying to think of a drink; she didn't want to seem naïve or innocent in front of them. "Can you make a…"

Sensing her hesitation, Jen said, "Girl, what you need is some sex on the beach! Too bad we're in Houston and the nearest beach is an hour away. But! I got the next best thing!" She grinned wickedly and, in a flurry of movement, mixed the drink.

"A little bit of vodka, some Midori, Chambord, and pineapple juice and you got yourself some sex on the beach!"

"All right, you!" JC came up behind his girlfriend and hooked his arm around her waist. "That's enough tending bar for you. You're supposed to serve the drinks, not drink em."

"But JC, I had to taste em to make sure…"

Jen's voice trailed off as JC dragged her down the hall.

Lance smiled at his friends' antics. He turned back to Kristina to find her holding an empty glass. "Damn, girl! That was quick."

She smiled. "I was thirsty."

"You want another?" Even as he asked the question, he was reaching over the bar to grab some bottles.

"Yeah. Something different though. What do you know-"

"Step aside, step aside," Chris, Heather and some people that Lance didn't recognize all walked up to the makeshift bar. "What are we taking?" Chris asked the group.

"What you got?" a tall guy with the dark hair and skin that bespoke of a Hispanic heritage spoke up.

"Shit, this is almost a full bar, baby. The question ain't what we got, it's what you want!"

"You got some Bacardi?"

Chris reached behind the bar and turned around brandishing a bottle. "Is Limon OK?" he asked sarcastically.

"It'll do," the other guy smiled back at him.

Lance tapped Heather on the shoulder. "What's going on?"

Chris answered for her in a voice loud enough to wake the dead. "Body shots!"

"Ooh!" Kristina turned to Lance, a bright smile on her face. "I've never done body shots before."

He could tell that the alcohol was already affecting her but he was tipsy enough to not care. "You wanna?"

She licked her lips and then nodded. "Yeah!"

"You know how?" he asked as he held out a shot glass for Chris to fill.

"I think." She took the drink Lance handed her. "Can I try it on you?"

Lance swallowed hard, his Adam's apple bobbing up and down. "Uh...yeah."

She looked up at him. "You gotta help me out here. You're taller than me."

"Oh." He looked around and then pulled a chair to him and sat. "This better?"

"Um, yeah."

Chris was passing out limes to all the participants. He stopped short when he got to Kristina and Lance. No words came out of his mouth, but the shit-eating grin on his face said it all.

A girl with blonde hair with purple tips passed a shaker of salt to Lance. He looked up at Kristina. "You ready?"

Wordlessly, she grabbed the shaker from his hand, and held her lime wedge up to his mouth.

Eyes locked on hers, Lance opened his mouth slightly and bit down on the end of the lime.

Kristina tilted his head back. Lance closed his eyes when he felt her move closer. First, her lips, soft and moist; then her breath, hot and invigorating; then her tongue, like wet velvet, touched his sensitive skin and Lance shuddered. He felt little pinpricks of sensation as she sprinkled the salt on his neck. Then the wet warmth of her mouth again as she licked the salt off of his skin. He opened his eyes in time to see her slam back her shot like a sailor on a two-day leave. She grimaced as she swallowed. She moved closer to him once again, her eyes locked on his. She used her tongue to gently swab around the lime he held in his teeth and then closed her lips over it. The soft pressure of her lips against his and the acrid flavoring of the lime juice exploding in his mouth had Lance fighting back a moan. Kristina pulled back, holding the lime between her teeth.

Without saying a word, Lance stood up and guided her to where he had just been. He grabbed a shot from the counter; Chris had poured a lot of them. He grabbed a fresh lime to replace the one they had used before, looked at Kristina and said, his voice gravelly deep, "My turn."

Between the two of them, they took six shots of Bacardi Limon and by the time they called it quits, both were hot under the collar.

Lance, ever the gentleman, led Kristina over to one of the couches. He wanted to talk to her, give her a chance to sober up a little bit before she did something she might regret. No sooner had they sat down than Kristina popped right back up. "Potty," she said in response to his questioning glance.

Lance sat back to wait for her and became engrossed in the movie. Some people were sprawled on the floor in front of the entertainment center watching 'The House on Haunted Hill'. He watched for about ten minutes and then noticed that Kristina hadn't returned yet. He went in search of her.

He found her in one of the upstairs bedrooms, a guestroom. "Hey."

She looked over at him and smiled. "Hey."

"What you doing in here?" he said as he walked over to her. She was standing in front of a dresser. On the wall above it hung a handmade quilt. She had been inspecting it when he saw her.

"Thinking."

"Bout what?" he said and ran his hand down the length of her spine.

She turned to look him in the eye. "Sex."

He said nothing.

"More specifically, I was wondering if I could have sex with you tonight and still respect myself in the morning."

He took a step back from her. "So you think you want to sleep with me but you don't do one-night stands, is that it?"

She nodded.

Thoroughly incensed now, he crossed his arms over his chest and glared down at her. "Oh, but you'll throw all your inhibitions out the window for me, is that it? Cause I'm Lance Bass, that guy in that group?"

"No. No!" Kristina stepped forward and placed her hand on his forearm. "That's not it. I could give a damn what group you are or aren't in. All I know…is that I've never felt this way before." She turned away from him and walked to the door. "This could be the alcohol talking, but I've never been as affected by a kiss before." She closed the door and turned to face him, her hand still on the knob. "It's been, what, fifteen, twenty minutes? And I still burn for you. I want you in a way I've never wanted a man before."

"Can I ask you a question?" He deliberately walked to her.

"Yeah."

"What's my last name?" He stopped in front of her, mere inches separating them.

"Um, B-bass," Kristina stuttered when he leaned down and kissed her forehead.

He put his hands on her hips and guided her so that she was walking backward. They stopped when she felt the edge of the bureau at her back. "What's my favorite color?"

Her passion clouded eyes cleared. "How the hell should I know?"

Lance stepped closer to her. His eyes flickered between her eyes, locked on his, and her lips.

"Hey," he whispered with a smile, "close your eyes."

"What?" she smiled back.

"Close your eyes," he repeated, already leaning closer.

Kristina slowly closed her eyes and lifted her face for his kiss. She expected to feel his lips on hers and couldn't contain her reaction when she felt them, instead, on her neck, just below her jaw.

His lips were soft and incredibly hot. He kissed his way down, then back up, her neck. His lips worried her earlobe, stroking the shell, tenderly biting the lobe. She shuddered when she felt the velvet heat of his tongue. She turned her head to him to return the favor.

Lance swallowed hard when she licked his earlobe. His ears were very sensitive and already he could feel himself hardening under her sweet assault.

He turned his head and captured her lips with his own. He took her bottom lip into his mouth, sucked on it gently, then licked at the seam of her lips, seeking entrance. With a soft sigh, she yielded to him.

To Lance, it seemed as if hours passed as he lost himself in her…her taste…her heat…her smell…the beaded texture of her tongue. Of their own volition, his hands reached up to explore her body. It was almost a surprise to him when he broke the kiss, chest heaving, and found his hands on her breasts. But he didn't pull away. He squeezed, molded and kneaded her pliant body. He felt her nipples harden beneath his hands. He leaned down and, with his tongue, traced the gentle swell of her cleavage. He licked a path back to her lips, leaving a trail of moisture in his wake. Lance stepped closer to her, trapping her against the counter. He gently pressed against her, letting her feel the effect she was having on him.

Kristina moaned deep in her throat and the sound made Lance burn with desire. Her hands encircled him, one playing with the hair at the nape of his neck (and giving him goosebumps), the other roaming his back (making his blood boil).

She broke the kiss and moved her mouth to his neck. She kissed his Adam's apple then salved it with her tongue. His hands, still exploring her body, were setting off explosions within her; fires that had to be put out or she felt for sure that she would go insane. Unconsciously, she rocked her hips against his in an attempt to appease her passion.

He hissed deep in his throat and grabbed her leg and wrapped it around his waist to increase the friction their gyrating bodies were creating. Their mouths met again in a heated kiss; tongues dueling, heads turning this way and that, lungs burning for oxygen.

Kristina reached for the zipper of Lance's pants. Desperate for air, they pulled apart. Lance thought his lungs bottomed out as he watched her unbuckle his belt. Her eyes flew to his flushed, sweaty face and she watched him as she drew his zipper down.

A vein in his forehead kept a steady pace with the race of his heartbeat, a testament to his desire and the amount of control he was exerting. A part of him would have liked nothing more than to throw her to the ground and have his way with her. He wanted to be inside her with a ferocity he'd never felt before.

The over-sized pants he wore fell to his knees. Only the width of his stance kept them from falling to the floor.

He bit his lip to hold back a moan when she cupped his length through his boxers His fingers dug into her waist as she gently squeezed him. He began to ball the fabric of her dress in his fists when her hands wandered to the waistband of his shorts. She pushed them down past his hips.

Lance's breathing was harsh and ragged in her ear as she took him into her hand. He felt like hot satin. With her thumb, she gently rubbed away the pre-cum leaking from the tip. Her fingers traced over him lightly, as if she were trying to memorize the feel of him.

Lance kissed her roughly, shoving his tongue down her throat, foretelling the motions his body would make within hers. His hands crept under her skirt and cupped her heat through her panties.

Kristina gasped, a high-pitched moan, as his fingers worked over her. She reached behind her to undo the buttons on her dress.

The door burst open and a very drunk Joey stumbled in. His eyes took in the scene: Lance, pants down to his knees, hand under some girl's dress. The girl, gaping at him over Lance's shoulder, mouth hanging open, eyes wide. "Sorry," he mumbled and left as abruptly as he came.

Lance, heart racing, chest heaving, rested his forehead against Kristina's. He sighed, resigned to his fate. He reached down and pulled his shorts up over his now flaccid member. The waistband made a soft whack! when he released it. 'Nothing like embarrassment beyond anything you've ever known to kill the mood,' he thought drolly.

Kristina smiled and pressed a soft kiss to his jaw. She reached down and helped him his pants up. "Not the right time, huh?" she asked as she buckled his belt.

Lanced looked into her hazel eyes, leaned forward and pressed a sweet yet chaste kiss to her lips. "Nope. But definitely some other time. Soon."

Joey stumbled down the stairs, eyes still burning at what he'd seen. He walked into the kitchen to get another drink. He had to get the image of Lance's white ass out of his head. He reached for the bottle of Kahlua and accidentally bumped into someone.

Joey grinned drunkenly at the girl before him. She was a statuesque blonde with the biggest breasts he'd ever seen. They were grossly distended. He was not at all turned on by them, but horrifically fascinated.

The girl smiled up at him. "Hi." She had a deep, contralto voice.

He swayed, unsteady on his feet. "Hey." He stared at her for a second longer. Her shirt looked like it was going to burst at the seams. He hooked a finger over the deep V of her shirt. "You got some big tits, you know that?"

She looked at her friend who Joey was too drunk to even notice and giggled.

"Seriously, I've never seen tits that big."

The girl, not really an *NSYNC fan, but definitely an opportunist and determined to get a piece of the action, stepped closer to him. "You wanna see them?"

"Yeah, why not?" Joey said offhandedly as he poured and then downed a shot of Kahlua.

The girl quickly unbuttoned her shirt. She was wearing a black lace push-up bra and Joey thought absurdly, 'She has an ass on her chest.'

"Hey, wait," he said when she reached for the clasp. "What's your name? I can't be seeing your titties and I don't even know your name."

The girl giggled again and Joey had to grit his teeth. He hated girls who giggled. "It's Janet."

"Janine!" he gasped.

"No," the girl frowned, "Janet."

"No!" Joey stared at her incredulously, eyes comically bugged out, "Janine! My girlfriend!"

"Where?" Janet clutched the edges of her shirt together and frantically looked around.

"Oh God, I gotta go."

Joey stumbled out of the kitchen, got lost in the jumble of people in the living room and managed to find a deserted room. He made his way over to the bed. He was a lot more sober now than he'd been minutes before.

'Oh shit. I can't believe I almost forgot about Janine.' Guilt swelled up inside him like a balloon. He reached into the side pocket of his cargo jeans for his cell phone. He flipped it open; numbers glowing neon green in the darkness, he pressed '1' then 'TALK'.

The phone rang in his ear…twice…four times…seven…He was about to hang up when he heard a click and then a sleepy voice.

"H'lo?"

"Janine?"

"Joey?" Wide awake now, Janine sat up in bed. "What's the matter? What's wrong?"

"Nothing, nothing's wrong, relax."

"Oh." Janine pressed a hand to her rapidly beating heart and then glanced at the clock. "Boy, something better be wrong for you to be calling me this late at night!"

Silence.

"Joey?"

"Baby, I almost did something really stupid tonight."

"Where are you?" Janine asked, lying back down and pulling the covers around her.

"Houston. Maddie Morse's house."

"Oh, I bet Justin is liking that!" she grinned.

"Oh yeah. He was loving it earlier when he pissed in the same bathroom she was taking a shower in."

"For real? What happened?"

Joey sighed and ran his fingers through his hair. "Nina, it's so good to hear your voice."

Janine's voice softened. "Aw, baby. I miss you, too."

Joey gave a derisive laugh. "No, I REALLY miss you. I almost…there was this girl…" He trailed off, at a loss for words.

Fearing the worst, Janine had to ask: "Did you fuck her?"

"No!" The word exploded from him. "God, no. She wanted to show me her tits."

"Her titties?" Janine asked, relieved.

"Baby, these things were huge. Like two watermelons."

"Watermelons, huh?"

"Yeah…but don't worry, I like your melons better!" He grinned into the phone.

"You better," she purred.

He laughed and got up to close and lock the door. Into the phone, he said, "So, what are you wearing?" as he made his way back to the bed in the dark.

"Joey."

They both laughed.

"No, really…what are you wearing?"

"You really wanna know?"

Joey nodded, then realized she couldn't see him. "Yeah."

"T-shirt and panties."

"I got my t-shirt and my panties on," he sang the Adina Howard song, snapping his fingers.

Janine smiled. "Yeah."

"Take your shirt off."

The silence lasted so long he thought she might have hung up on him. "Janine?"

"OK," her voice came softly into his ear. "It's off."

He smiled, glad that she was willing to play. He licked his lips. "I want you to touch your stomach…the way I always do…and pretend that it's me…"

Jen, having relinquished her bartending duties to Chris, sat snuggled on the couch with JC. They were amidst the crush of people trying to watch 'Beavis and Butthead Do America'. Watching it wasn't the problem, hearing it was. Everyone felt the need to make comments directed to either cartoon character and this one guy, Phillip, was reciting the movie practically word for word. The doorbell rang and JC got up to answer it.

"Man! I'm sick of this shit!" he exclaimed when he opened the door to reveal no one. This was the tenth time it had happened. "OK," he called out to the kids he presumed were hiding just out of sight, fighting to hold back their laughter, "joke's over, take your asses home!" He slammed the door and stomped back to his seat.

"Kinda late for kids to be prank-knocking, don't ya think?" a guy with bleached blonde hair whose name JC had forgotten asked.

"Well, who else could it be?" JC replied as he sat next to Jen and wrapped his arm around her shoulders.

"In this neighborhood, there's no telling." This from a tall, rail-skinny black girl named Kalandra. She was tall, standing at a good six feet, but she had the high-pitched voice of a child.

"I don't care who it is, I'm not answering the door anymore." JC huffed.

They all turned their attention back to the TV screen. Beavis was wondering the halls of the White House with the back of his shirt over his head, muttering about his bunghole.

Twenty minutes later, the credits were rolling and they were voting on what to watch next. The choices were Lethal Weapon 4, Seven, What's Love Got To Do With It and a bootleg copy of Mission Impossible 2. They had just decided on the Ike and Tina Turner movie when the doorbell rang.

True to his word, JC did not move a muscle except to lift his glass of rum and Coke to his lips to take a sip.

The bell rang again and everyone ignored it.

A few minutes later, there was a loud thumping on the stairs and then Maddie's voice rang out. "Whatever, Wendy. You don't know me as well as you think you do."

"Please, girl," Wendy scoffed as she followed her friend down the stairs, "I know you better than I know myself."

"Oh really?"

"Yes, really." Tipsy from all the alcohol she had consumed, Wendy unconsciously lapsed into her first language, Spanish. "Y yo se que te gusta!" (And I know you like him!)

Shocked, Maddie spun around to face her friend. They were directly in front of the TV screen but no one said anything about it. Watching the two girls go at it was more entertaining.

"What?" Maddie narrowed her eyes and put her hands on her hips.

"Y yo se que te gusta cuando te besa en New York, tambien!" (And I know you liked it when he kissed you in New York, too!)

"I…I did not!" Maddie sputtered. She was still speaking in English, so for those who didn't understand Spanish, it was a one-sided conversation and rather hard to follow.

"Mira no jueges, Maddie. Sientiste algo solamente no lo quieres admitir como no quieres admitir que te gusta. Nadie sabe mejor que yo de donde vienes. Hasta lloramos juntas cuando se divorciaron tus padres. Pero estas dejando que el pasado te ciege de lo que hasta pasando en el presente. Justin es un buen muchacho y esta muriendo de demostrar te lo." (Oh, get off it, Maddie. You felt something. You just don't want to admit it, the same way you don't want to admit that you like him. Maddie, nobody knows where you're coming from more than me. Hell, we cried together through all your parents' divorces. But you're letting the past blind you to what's right in front of you. Justin's a good guy and he's dying to prove it to you.)

Jen and JC's ears perked up at the mention of Justin's name. They glanced at each other briefly then returned their eyes to the drama unfolding before them.

"I didn't feel anything," Maddie protested vehemently.

"Yeah right." Wendy switched back to English.

"I didn't. I could kiss him right now and not feel a thing."

Wendy smiled triumphantly. "Prove it."

With one last glare at her friend, Maddie turned on her heel. With Wendy close behind her, she stalked over to peer into the dining room. Not seeing who she was looking for, she turned and walked through the living room to peer into the hallway. She looked to the front of the house and saw nothing. She turned her head to the right and jumped in surprise when Justin seemed to appear out of nowhere. She threw one last defiant look at Wendy over her shoulder, then walked up to him. Justin opened his mouth to greet her but the words never left him; Maddie jerked his head down to hers and shoved her tongue in his mouth.

For a brief moment, she controlled the kiss, her tongue roaming freely within the dark cavern of his mouth. She was standing on the tips of her toes, arms locked around his neck as if to prevent him from escaping.

Escape was the last thing on Justin's mind. He didn't know why she was kissing him and he didn't really care. He wrapped his arms around her, one at her waist, one lying diagonally across her back, fingers tangling in her hair. He wasn't sure what she was doing. He didn't know when, or if, she would pull away. But he was determined to take advantage of whatever time he had. He knew that they were in plain sight of anyone in the living room or kitchen but he couldn't let that stop him. He slanted his mouth over hers and went to work.

His tongue engaged hers in a fierce battle. Like serpents, they slithered, advanced and retreated, creating the sweetest friction.

Justin, completely in control now, took a survey of Maddie's mouth with his tongue. Dimly, he realized that he could taste the remnants of the alcohol she'd consumed; a hint of sweet mixed in with the bitterness of some liquor. But he was hardly cognizant of that. Her warmth, her heat seemed to consume him until all he could think, breathe, feel was Maddie. She stood before him, yet she was all around him. And then, abruptly, she was gone.

With a whimper, Maddie wrenched herself away from him.

She couldn't bring herself to meet his eyes. She looked, instead, over his shoulder at Heather gaping at them from the kitchen doorway. She turned her head and saw about eight pairs of eyes gawking at them from the living room. She looked down at the floor between her feet. At the moment, she didn't care that all those people saw her kiss Justin. Her heart was pounding in her chest and, despite the cooled air flowing from the vents, she felt the dampness of perspiration on her forehead and under her arms. She had convinced herself that the attraction she felt for Justin was nothing. There were plenty of men she found attractive without wanting anything more. She had lumped Justin into that category and then built a wall around her heart.

From the beginning, that wall had been crumbling; eroding under the onslaught of emotions she felt every time she saw him; that smile; those eyes; the sound of his laughter; the way he licked his lips; the way he interacted with his friends; the was he'd handled himself after the TRL incident; the way he treated her as if she were marked 'Fragile: Handle With Care'.

Madison raised her head and slowly brought her eyes to his. In them, she saw the truth: Her wall, her carefully constructed wall, had shattered.

And they both knew it.

She looked at him for a moment longer, then turned away, brushed past Wendy and disappeared around the corner.

Justin stood where she'd left him, breathing heavily, still feeling the effects of the kiss. His mind was reeling. From the deliberate way she'd kissed him, he knew that she was looking to prove something. He read the passion in her eyes when she'd looked at him that last time; he also saw her fear at where that passion would take her.

His thoughts were interrupted when Paul and Crystal came barging through the front door. "We come bearing jello shots!" Paul called, holding a tray of the alcoholic treats.

Crystal giggled. It took a minute for her alcohol-laden brain to clear but she eventually felt the tension in the room and her merriment died. "What's wrong? Why is everyone so quiet? What happened?"

"Oh nothing much," Jen answered, " 'cept we just watched Justin and Maddie re-enact a scene form Grease 2."

Paul looked to Justin, a confused look on his face. "Grease 2?"

Justin didn't answer. He took off in the direction Maddie had gone.

"Well, that was interesting," Heather said drolly.

"What was?" Chris asked from near the back door. He had just returned from taking the trash, mainly empty bottles, out.

Heather walked into the kitchen to fill him in.

"Hey you," Jen whispered into JC's ear. "Why don't we go re-enact a scene of our own?"

"From Grease 2?"

The puzzled look on JC's face was replaced with one of satisfaction when Jen kissed then licked the hollow of his neck. "I was thinking of something more along the lines of 'Debbie Does Dallas'."

Grinning, JC stood up and pulled Jen after him. "Hot damn!"

"Hot Damn?" Chris and Heather walked into the living room, holding hands. "We didn't get any," Chris said, referring to the cinnamon-flavored drink.

JC and Jen ignored him and went off on a quest to find privacy.

Unfortunately for them, it was a very illusive prize. And so it was that they found themselves in the upstairs guest bathroom.

Jen smiled drunkenly at JC. "Ever done it in a bathroom?"

"Nope," he smiled back as he gathered her in his arms, "but there's a first time for everything."

The last few words were said against her lips as his mouth took hers in a kiss that threatened to engulf them both.

Suddenly, Jen couldn't wait any longer. She had to have him and she had to have him now. She knew that she was feeling the effects of the alcohol but she didn't care. She pulled away from his kiss and her hands flew to his belt.

JC, feeling her urgency, batted her hands away. He slid down the length of her torso, kneeling before her, and lifted the hem of her dress. Her pale pink panties were already moist. He licked her through the silky material and Jen let out a soft moan. She ripped the dress over her head, then placed her hands on JC's shoulders, bracing herself for the sweet torture she knew awaited her.

JC slid his index finger under her panties. Her silken folds were wet and swollen from wanting. He hooked his fingers over the edge of her panties and slid the scrap of material down her legs.

He looked at her, at the soft black curls covering her mound. His hands stroked the insides of her thighs and then he leaned in to taste her.

Jen's legs buckled and she nearly fell to the floor when she felt the soft yet insistent pressure of his tongue on her body. She felt as if she had been thrown into a fire, as if her bones were melting as his tongue lapped at her flesh. She couldn't catch her breath. She'd never before felt such pleasure.

There wasn't enough time to get him fully out of his clothes. Jen grabbed his shoulders, hauled him to his feet and hurriedly unzipped his pants. She was pulling him out of his boxers even as he was unbuckling his belt. She wrapped her leg around his waist and silently cursed when she realized she wasn't tall enough. She waited for him to push his pants down over his hips. She guided his hands to her hips and with a rush that thrust him deliriously her, he filled her up.

She was already so excited that she was immediately on the brink. Her eyes rolled into the back of her head as he repeatedly thrust into her. She squeezed his muscles, smelled his sweet sweat, felt the pleasure swamping her and thought that she would faint.

JC merged his body with hers and thought that he had gone to heaven. He effortlessly picked her up and took the two steps that brought her back into contact with the wall. He turned his head and brought his mouth to hers. She loved it when he kissed her during sex. Her body became two focal points of passion, her pelvis and her mouth, where his tongue mirrored the actions of his body.

Her orgasm took her by surprise; shaking and groaning, she jammed her hips against his until she felt him explode inside her, making her inner muscles spasm, making her come a second time.

They slid together to the floor, exhausted but sated. For a few moments, neither of them moved. Then JC chuckled softly and sang "I wanna fuck you like an animal…"

Jen smiled contentedly. "Grrreow."

Meanwhile, Heather and Chris were searching for some privacy of their own and were becoming increasingly more frustrated.

"Damn, there's more locked doors in this house than in the penitentiary," Chris mumbled crossly.

Heather smiled. "I got an idea. You still got the keys to the car?"

"Oh, see, now this is the reason I love you!" Chris kissed her soundly, then led her to the backdoor.

Heather took a survey of the rooms as they passed through; 'No Lance, no JC, no Joey, no Justin…damn, is everybody getting some tonight?'

They crossed the lawn to get to the four-wheeled drive parked on the side of the house. Chris walked around to the driver's side, unlocked the door, reached in and pressed a button that unlocked the other doors. He shut that one and then met Heather in the backseat.

They wasted no time. Hands groping, unbuttoning, unfastening, their mouths met in a heated kiss. Chris drew her bottom lip into his mouth and bit down on it, then sucked it. He swept his tongue across her mouth, engaging hers along the way.

They broke away to draw their shirts over their heads. They resumed the kiss, Heather struggling with the buttons on Chris's pants, Chris fumbling with the clasp of her bra. He raised his hips so that she could pull his pants down over them, then had to pause to kick his sandals off. Finally, he got the bra off her and gently ran his hands over her breasts.

He loved her breasts. Ripe and full, they were just enough to fit his hands with a little left to spill over. Normally, he spent a lot of time worshipping them but he was too impatient; too hot to slow down. He moved his hands to her pants. "Dammit! Heather, why'd you wear pants?" he muttered, struggling to work the tight material over her hips.

"Sorry, next time I'll remember to wear something that has easy access."

Frustrated, Chris gripped the waistband and tensed his muscles. Heather, sensing what he was going to do, smacked him on the arm. "Don't you dare rip my pants!" She reached to her side and pulled down the zipper hidden at her hip.

Chris stared at her incredulously. "You mean to tell me that was there the whole time and you just let me struggle?"

Heather shrugged. "I thought you knew. I've worn the pants before. You've taken them off before."

Still frowning at her, he pulled the black material down her legs. He sat back in his seat and pulled her to straddle him. They kissed again. Heather pulled back to ask, "You got a condom?"

Chris, nibbling at her neck, asked, "Skip a pill?"

"Yeah."

He pulled away from her and reached into his pants pocket for his wallet. Opening the billfold, he revealed the prophylactic hidden behind his driver's license. Heather took it from him, ripped the package open with her teeth and slid back so that her weight was resting on his knees.

Chris closed his eyes in ecstasy when he felt her hands on him. There was something about the act of Heather putting a condom on him that turned him on while at the same time, fed some part of his heart. He loved her and wanted to protect her from the world; including himself. His conscious brain shut down and instinct took over as Heather moved herself into position above him.

They both moaned as she sank down onto his erection. She was so tight and warm. The motion of her body put her put her chest right in front of his face and that was a temptation he couldn't resist. His lips and tongue on her sensitized nipples sent piercing arrows of desire down her body. Her inner muscles clenched him and he moaned against her breast.

She rose and fell over him at a steady pace. Using her quadriceps muscles, she repeatedly impaled herself on him. With slow but sure strokes, she measured the length of him inside her. "Oh God, Chris," she moaned softly into his ear.

For Chris, it wasn't enough. His body was yearning for release. Heather was making love; he wanted to fuck. With a speed that was surprising considering the cramped space they were in, he maneuvered them so that Heather was on her knees, resting her elbows on the back of the seat. Chris placed his knees just inside hers, grabbed her hips and entered her from behind.

"Oh fuck." Heather's words were whispered but they reached Chris's ears with the impact of a sixteen-piece orchestra. With quick, strong thrusts, he quickly took them to the edge. Heather's knuckles were white; she was gripping the soft material of the seat in her fists. She began to contract around him even as Chris felt that familiar tingle in the low of his back. He quickened his pace and thrust harder. The world exploded around him as he emptied himself into her. His climax seemed to last forever; it held onto him and seemed to not want to let go. Finally, he slumped over her back, then repositioned them so that they were sitting on their sides, bodies still connected.

They rested for a while and then, languidly, redressed, with the occasional stolen kiss or whispered endearment.

"I'll say this," Heather remarked as they strolled back to the house, hand-in-hand, "Maddie throws one hell of a party."

Chpt 18
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