Tory Nichols stumbled away from the corner behind the gym, the heat of the day clinging to her skin like a second layer of anger. The image of Sam in Jack's lap, her lips on his, her movement against him, burned in her mind like embers. She hadn't meant to see it—she'd just been looking for a quiet place to escape the hellish sun—but she couldn't erase it now. Jealousy rolled off her like steam, her fists clenched as she marched toward the quad, her heart beating like a war drum.
Miguel found her near the water fountains, her face flushed with heat and fury. "Tory, what's that look on your face?" he asked, his voice worried, his dark eyes searching hers.
She turned to him, her eyes flashing. "LaRusso's all over Jack again," she blurted, the words spilling out before she could stop them. "I saw them both, Miguel. She won't stop!"
He frowned in confusion, taking a step closer. "And why are you so mad about this? It's about him, right?"
Tory froze, anger mixing with guilt. "It's nothing," she lied, her voice sharp, but the hesitation in her eyes betrayed something more. "She's just… she's screwing him over, and I can't stand to see it."
Miguel crossed his arms, his gaze hardening. "Tory, if this is about Jack, tell me right now. You've been different since he got back. What's going on?"
"I said it's nothing!" she snapped, her tone rising as she took a step back. "You don't trust me, is that it? Just because I care about a friend?" But the words rang hollow, and the rift between them grew wider. She turned, her sneakers clicking on the floor as she walked away, her mind whirling with images of Jack and Sam, fury mixed with a confusion she didn't want to face. Miguel stood still, the weight of doubt growing in his chest.
In the secluded corner behind the gym, the heat of the day was an extension of the fire that burned between Jack and Sam. They were locked in this moment, their lips locked together, their desire pulsing like the blazing sun. Sam was still in his lap, her knees sunk into the dry grass, her short jean shorts riding up her sweaty thighs as she slowly swayed, the fabric brushing against his pants, their bodies so close that their heat fused together. But then she stopped, panting, her blue eyes shining with a wild mix of passion and daring. "Come with me," she whispered, her voice husky and full of promise, standing up and tugging on his good hand with a wicked smile that made his heart race.
Jack followed her, his blood running hot through his veins, as she led him to an even more hidden gap—a tight space between the gym wall and an old fence, covered by tall bushes that cut them off from the world. The air there was thick, almost suffocating, the heat of the day trapped between the leaves, the smell of earth and sweat mixing in a mist that enveloped them. Sam turned to him, her face flushed, her parted lips glistening with a hint of honeyed gloss, her skintight tank top outlining her small but firm breasts, her nipples subtly defined against the thin fabric. Without saying anything, she dropped to her knees on the dry grass before him, her eyes rising to his with an intensity that made him swallow hard, his cock already hard just imagining her there.
Jack stood frozen for a moment, his body tensing as she stared at him, her delicate hands hesitating at the waistband of his pants, her slender fingers brushing the waistband with a mixture of shyness and lust. "Sam, what are you…" he began, his husky voice breaking, but she licked her lips slowly, a gesture of pure fire, her eyes sparkling with desire as she cut him off.
"I've never done this," she confessed, her voice low and shaky, but filled with a raw boldness that made his body throb. "I've never sucked anyone off. But for you, Jack, I will. I want to." She took a deep breath, her fingers now firmer as she undid the button on his pants, the sound of the zipper coming down cutting through the hot silence like an invitation. "I trust you," she added, barely above a whisper, her eyes fixed on his, deep brown and full of naughty surrender. "I know you won't go around telling me, that you won't be an asshole. Just... let me give you this."
Jack felt the heat rise to his face, the air growing thick as she pulled his pants and underwear down in a slow, almost reverent movement, freeing him. Sam's eyes widened, genuine shock crossing her face as she saw the size of his cock, hard and thick and throbbing before her, the hot, taut skin glistening with a thin layer of sweat. "Holy shit," she muttered, almost to herself, a nervous laugh escaping her as she reached out hesitantly, her slender fingers brushing the base of him, feeling the weight and hardness. "That's… huge." She tilted her head, her ponytail swinging, the loose strands sticking to her sweaty neck, and a naughty thought crossed her mind. "Is that why Moon liked him so much? God, she knew what she had in there."
She stood there on her knees, her shorts riding up her thighs, revealing the smooth curve of her tanned skin, sweat trickling down the neckline of her tank top, dripping between her breasts as she stared up at him, amazed and hungry. "You're perfect," she said, her voice thick with lust, her parted lips glistening as she leaned in, her hot breath against his sensitive skin making Jack shiver, a low moan escaping before she even touched him. "I want to feel you," she whispered, closing her eyes, her tongue darting out slowly for a tentative but bold first touch, licking the tip, the salty taste of him invading her mouth like a drug.
Jack gripped her hair with his good hand, his fingers threading through her ponytail, not pulling, just feeling, his head pressing back against the wall as she began in earnest. Sam moaned against him, the sound vibrating against his skin, her soft lips closing around the head, sucking with a mixture of inexperience and fierce desire. She took him deeper, her hot, wet mouth enveloping him, her lips stretched around the thickness of him, her tongue dancing beneath, licking every vein, every contour, while her hands gripped his thighs, her nails digging into the flesh hard enough to leave a mark.
She sucked hungrily, her pace increasing as she lost her shyness, her eyes rising to his with a gleam of pleasure and power, her flushed cheeks dipping with each suck. The heat of her mouth was insane, wet and tight, her tongue swirling in slow, naughty circles, exploring every inch as she moaned softly, the sound muffled by his cock filling her mouth. Jack squeezed his eyes shut, pleasure taking over, his hips instinctively moving forward, thrusting deeper, and Sam accepted, his eyes watering a little but not pulling back, his hands coming up to grip his base, helping the rhythm as she sucked harder, her lips sliding up and down, leaving a shiny trail of saliva.
"Sam…" he groaned, his voice hoarse and broken, his body shaking as she sped up, her mouth working him with wicked determination, her moans vibrating against him, pushing him over the edge. He tried to warn her, "I'm going to…" but the words were lost in a growl as the pleasure exploded, his entire body tensing as he came, hot spurts filling her mouth, his cock pulsing against her tongue.
Sam was surprised by the force, her eyes widening as she felt him cum, the strong, hot taste invading her. But she didn't hesitate—she closed her lips tighter, sucking until the end, swallowing everything with a determined effort, not letting anything fall out, her fingers squeezing his thighs as she swallowed every drop, her neck moving in a slow, sensual gulp. She lay there, panting, her lips swollen and glistening, a trickle of saliva escaping the corner of her mouth as she sucked in air, her eyes rising to his with a naughty, satisfied smile. "I told you I'd do it for you," she whispered, wiping her mouth with the back of her hand, her face flushed and triumphant.
Jack slumped against the wall, his chest rising and falling rapidly, the pleasure still echoing through his body as he stared at her, dazed. He hadn't backed down—not this time—and even if it hurt someone, this moment with Sam had been worth every risk.
The next day, West Valley High was ablaze with rumors. Someone—not Tory, but a nosy student who'd walked by the gym—had seen Jack and Sam emerging from the corner, awkward and flushed, and the story had spread like gasoline on a fire: "They were making out behind the gym!" In the cafeteria, Kyler jumped at the chance, his voice booming over the clatter of trays. "Sullivan, you never learn, do you? First Moon, now LaRusso in the woods? Robby must be proud!"
Jack, sitting with a soda in his good hand, looked up, his jaw clenching. "Stop talking nonsense, Kyler," he said, his voice steady, but heat rose to his face as he remembered yesterday—Sam's mouth, the way she'd brought him to the edge.
Sam, beside him, tossed his hair back, eyes flashing. "Ignore him, Jack. He's got nothing better to do."
Kyler laughed, stepping forward. "What's wrong, princess? Are you defending your new toy?" Before the situation could escalate, Eli appeared, his red mohawk cutting through the crowd. "Leave him alone," Eli said, his tone dry. "He's Cobra Kai." But his eyes flickered to Jack, a silent warning: "Stop fucking with the dojo."
Kyler backed away, grumbling, but the whispers continued, a wave that Jack and Sam couldn't stop. The girls in the corner gave Sam judgmental looks, whispered about "she has no shame," while the guys laughed and pointed at Jack. He tightened his grip on the can, but Sam put a firm hand on his arm. "We'll get through this together," she said, her voice low, her eyes shining with the same fire as they had the afternoon before. "Let them say what they want."
Jack nodded, the heat of that moment still pulsing between them. "Okay," he murmured, and for once, he didn't try to hide from the stares.
At her house, Moon stood on the porch, brushing on a canvas in shades of green and yellow, the warm wind blowing the smell of paint. Yasmin appeared with a glass of lemonade, sitting down next to her. "Have you heard the rumors?" Yasmin asked hesitantly. "About Jack and Sam… behind the gym."
Moon stopped the brush, her heart pounding before calming down. "I heard," she said, her voice calm but distant. "It doesn't surprise me."
Yasmin frowned. "Are you okay with this?"
"I don't know," Moon admitted, staring at the canvas. "It hurts, but… I'm done with him. He's not mine anymore." She took a blank sheet of paper from her backpack, Sam's letter folded beside it, and began to write: "Sam, I know what's happening. I'm not ready to forgive you, but I don't hate you anymore. Maybe someday we'll talk." She folded the paper, putting it away without sending it, and went back to painting, her brush moving as if she could erase the echo of the past.
At the end of the day, Jack and Sam stood in the parking lot, the sun beginning to set, the heat still clinging to her skin. She leaned against his Impala, her eyes glowing with an unquenchable fire, her lips curved in a wicked smile. "Yesterday was… different," she said, her voice thick with teasing, licking her lips as if she could still taste him.
Jack chuckled, rubbing his neck, his face flushing at the memory. "Yeah, it was." He looked at her, guilt fighting with desire, but the decision was already made. "We're going to face this, right?"
"Together," she confirmed, squeezing his hand, their fingers intertwining in silent promise. They had chosen fire, but they didn't know who else would burn with them.