Page 23 of Afterglow (Ottawa Regents #3)
We’re in Trouble Now
Fletcher
Behraz Irani fucking owns me.
Plus, I licked her cunt and got her to squirt in my mouth, so she’s mine. She was a fantasy before. Now she’s my reality. In a matter of weeks, she’s become my everything. My roommate, my best friend.
Why didn’t anyone tell me love and sex were gonna be like this? That this level of emotional intimacy was possible, and so quickly? Fuck, she makes me feel insane. Like a sex god…that hasn’t had sex yet.
I don’t even mind, honestly. Our daily routine got an upgrade.
I still drive her to work, hit the gym, then shower, and come back to pick her up.
Still take her to therapy. But the other days we return home, make lunch, then I read to her, or read on my own if she wants to study on her own.
We make out, I eat her perfect pussy until we both come, and then we snuggle, clean up, and go to sleep.
Lather, rinse, repeat until the weekend, when we choose a date idea and go on an adventure or play strip poker and eat food off each other.
If only that were enough. She deserves to know how I feel.
She deserves all of me, even if it’s not good enough.
I slap myself during a pep talk in the washroom mirror, then point at my reflection.
“Lock it in, Donovan. Channel Savage Garden and tell that woman you’re truly, madly, deeply in love with her already. ”
And today’s a good day to do so. To celebrate her finishing the prep manual material and finally getting her exam accommodations approved, I’m taking her to an ice rink.
“Ice skating?” she asked, reading the wooden stick plucked from the idea jar.
“Too lame?”
“Not at all, I haven’t been in…” Behraz paused and searched the air, calculating.
“Then we’re definitely going.”
“I’ll be out in a minute,” she calls through the slightly ajar bedroom door. “You know, when I was younger, I was obsessed with ice skating. I took a few classes and thought I could be the next Michelle Kwan or Tara Lipinski. But my two left feet said, ‘nope!’”
She struts out in one of her flower-patterned dresses.
This green one is as wicked as the others.
I swear she has one in every color and wears them just to torment me.
She throws open the panels of a pastel yellow cardigan, running a finger down the few white buttons highlighting her full chest. Bea twists, showing off how the fluttery hem ends at the top of her thighs.
“What do you think?” She snaps a stretchy, nude fabric from her leg and wiggles her sock-covered toes. “Fleece-lined tights and thick wool socks so I don’t get cold.”
My last working brain cell explodes, draining its blood into my face and straight down to my dick.
She takes slow, slinking steps until she’s right in front of me. “Fletcher.” She tips my chin up with her petite palm, forcing eye contact. Her thumb strokes through my facial hair, waking goosebumps that run down my spine. “You’re supposed to say you like it.”
I relax into the tender touch. “I like it.”
Behraz’s eyes still for a moment, pupils blowing wide. Her tongue wets the seam of her rosy, stained lips. “Good boy.”
In one feathery sweep down my neck, across the round of my shoulder, and down my arm, she takes control by clasping my hand, using it to help me to my feet and lifting it above her head so she can twirl.
“Can you see my ass?”
I check as we walk toward the door. “No.”
“Damn. Well, does it at least look fat?” She leans in to whisper. “Say yes.”
“Yes.” I tease a grin and release our hands to slap the ample curve of her ass. She squeals in mock surprise. “And it’s juicy, too.”
“Me?” Her finger jabs one side of my butt.
It jiggles. “What’s all that movement back there?
” She pokes it again as I’m pushing my foot into a sneaker at the door.
I almost lose my balance. “The aftershocks are crazy.” Her arms wind up like a softball pitcher and grip two handfuls of my ass.
“This thing looks so delicious, I could just eat it. Om nom nom.”
My cock pulses as we stroll down the hallway, asshole clenching at the thought of her mouth on it. “You can’t stay shit like that to me, Bea.”
“Or else?” She smirks, challenging my threat.
“Or else we’re gonna have…trouble.” If I get any harder, we’ll have to go to the ER.
“Okay, okay. Let’s get outta here. The site said public skate is only until six.”
By the time we get there, all the ice scooters are rented out, so I skate backwards while holding both of Bea’s hands. She pushes forward on the ice.
“You’re doing great!” A couple of little kids zoom past us without any aid, shaking their heads. Behraz throws me a doubtful look. “Don’t pay any attention to them.”
“I’m not.”
“You have nothing to be ashamed of?—”
“I know…” She stifles a smile, driving her skates harder, forcing me back. “I actually don’t need help.”
“You don’t?” I pick up speed to keep up with her. “What about your two left feet?”
We turn around the curve.
“I’m no Michelle Kwan, but I’m not terrible.”
I release one hand to skate alongside her as she speeds through center ice.
“But then you held my hands and were being so cute, so I went along with it.”
Wow. I’m an idiot.
“I’m Canadian, after all. It’s pretty much a requirement to know how to ice skate.” She leans forward and balances on one foot, raising a leg behind her. “Indi, Gabe, and I go down to the canal every winter. Don’t worry, Fletcher. I like it when you hold my hands.”
Despite the frigid air around us, my skin flames.
“And I like how flustered you get even more.” She tugs my arm to whisper in my ear. “The way you blush is so hot.”
“We’re in trouble now,” I mutter. “We’re gonna have to go home.”
“ Oooh ,” the instigator says through a giggle. “I like a little trouble.”
“It’s about to turn into more than that.”
We’re in big, massive, rock-solid trouble.
We stumble through the entryway, lips locked and tongues tangled as we kick off our shoes.
Bea escapes and beats me to the bedroom. I pant in the arch of the open door, watching her strip away her socks and leggings in the dressing mirror on one side of my bed. She reaches below the fabric and pulls down, retrieving a flimsy lace string that slips to the floor.
I gulp.
“Fuck.” My hand scrubs my face. “That dress is killing me.”
“I should get rid of it, then.” She undoes one button.
“I don’t want you to die.” Then another.
And another, and another, and another, and another, until a sheer, strapless bra appears, cutting through a creamy stretch of her midsection as she bunches the flowery fabric to her hips.
Her arms pretzel behind her, unhooking it to remove from the front, revealing those mauve nipples pierced with shiny metal.
She throws it to the side and crawls onto the bed.
Her tits sway with every stalking movement toward me.
“God.” I give my solid cock a squeeze over my sweats.
“That’s so hot,” Bea coos, kneeling atop the edge of the mattress. “Come here,” she beckons with a curled finger. “Take off your shirt.”
Hell, I could come right now. But I obey, shrugging off the flannel button-up and the white tee below in one swoop over my head as my feet guide me to her.
“You can have whatever you want from me, Fletcher.” Her eyes dart back and forth between mine. “Just say the words. Tell me what you want.”
“I—” Don’t have a functioning brain right now.
She toys with a piercing. “You wanna touch them?”
I nod rapidly.
“Words, Fletcher.”
“Yes,” my voice rasps, unrecognizably low.
She circles both wrists and places my palms over her breasts. My fingers stretch and contract around the soft flesh, warm and lush in my grasp. I suck in a shaky breath. Her nails scrape along the elastic securing my pants to my hips. I hiss when they cross the line of hair above my groin.
“You want me to suck your cock?”
The question and mention have it straining in my boxer briefs.
“God, yes.”
“Then take it out.”
I lower the band, and it springs forward, the swollen head overeagerly leaking with pre-cum.
“Holy shit,” she gushes, switching her focus from its length up to my face. “You’re already that desperate for me?”
I nod again, muting a groan while thumbing over her tightened nipples.
“You make me so fucking wet, Fletcher.”
My cock bobs midair at the idea.
“Wanna see?”
All I can do is verbally agree. I’ll give this goddess whatever she fucking wants.
Bea scoots back, getting on all fours, then flips up the skirt of that dress to give me the most illicit view of her dripping pussy in the mirror behind her.
“Fuck,” I lament, stroking myself.
“Fuck,” she echoes. “Grab my hair, Fletcher.”
I gather it gently, but it’s so thick, so voluminous, I struggle to fist it all. Impatient, she wraps it around my wrist. “Tighter,” she demands. “You’re…bigger than I imagined. But I don’t care.” She confirms with a hungry look. “I want you to go rough. Use me—please, Fletcher.”
“Bea?” She winces when her coiled hair goes taut in my grip. “I know you know what you’re doing, but…” I pump down my length once, spreading my arousal while nearing her mouth. “I need you to listen.”
Lust and need swirl in her blown gaze. “Tell me how to suck you off.”
I offer my glistening cock to her. “Lick it.”
The long, languid swipe she doles out has me quaking out a moan.
“Take it in your mouth.”
Her lips wrap the engorged head with a weak suck.
“Harder.”
The pressure intensifies. My head lolls back with a pleasured hiss as the thick vein lining the underside of my cock throbs on top of her tongue.
“Deeper.”
Her mouth is hot and slick and unbearably snug. “Fuck,” I groan when she retreats, only to see my cock disappear further past her lips. “Can you take more?”
She nods with an mmhmm , the vibrations onto my cock making the room spin temporarily.
“Good,” I affirm. “You look incredible with me filling your mouth.”
Bea moans, and I can barely hold on. “Keep going.”