Page 16

Chapter 16

Look at the Mess You’ve Made

Gabe

Sleeping with Wade Boehner once was fine.

Twice? Huge mistake.

Between those two times and the way he eats me out like it’s his job, it’s all I can think about.

Him strutting in, in a stupid Ottawa Regents tee seemingly custom fit to his stupid muscular build and stupid hoochie shorts showing off his toned quads, doing stupid pli é s in Barre class? No help at all. The whole hand-kissing, waist-gripping, and longing whispers had me so riled up that I wondered if I should be committed.

Instead, I work on getting myself off with Mr. Darcy in Pretty Boy’s bed, hoping he shows up in time to see me finish.

I sink the firm, bubblegum pink silicone toy into myself over and over but can’t seem to find a satisfying rhythm.

My mind wanders to his control at the barre. Of course, he’s strong and flexible. He’s a professional athlete. Those hip and groin stretches hockey players do on the ice? Goalies are a different breed. The man can do the splits with fifty pounds of gear on, no sweat.

Which means fucking me deep would be a piece of cake.

“Oh, God,” I groan as the dildo vibrates past my G-spot, searching for the spot higher up.

The fantasy replaces the memory of riding him until he tore the previous headboard off.

That does the trick. I speed up the vibration and press the fake dick’s tip into my clit. I moan.

My head whips back to the new headboard, the coil of pleasure tightening low in my core.

“Wade…”

Thud-thud-thud!

I whip forward and nearly lose control of the vibrator at the banging.

“Gabe!” an angry Wade yells behind the door.

All hope for an orgasm is gone. I plot vengeance through a growl.

“Who is it?” I call back in my sweetest tone, knowing fully well who it is. “I’m kinda busy right now.” My haste omitted panty removal. The flimsy, tangled lace looks fucking ridiculous shrouding the pink cock.

“No shit! I can see you fucking yourself on the security camera.” A black lens in the corner shifts and zooms with a buzz. “Open the goddamn door!”

“ Ugh , you’re a creep.” I drive the toy in and out of my pussy rapidly and fake moan, eyes rolling for good measure. Men can’t tell if it’s the real thing anyway. “If you—can see me,” I say through exaggerated, high-pitched oh s, “then you know—I can’t open it.”

“I swear to God, I’ll fucking break it down,” he shouts. The door and its frame shudder, and I’m wetter.

“I’m so close,” I whine. “So, so cl?—”

The lock gives, flinging the door open. A sweat-covered Wade stands within the warped frame, keeping the door wide. I part my legs further, giving him a better view, the stretched nude lace now limp across the back of my hands. His eyes grow, mouth agape.

“Go away,” I complain with a whine. “You’re ruining my orgasm.”

You big lying liar.

He looks to the ceiling with a shake of his head. “Fucking fuck. That’s not what it looks like.” His tongue swoops forward to his full lower lip as if he can taste me from across the room. “Is this payback for getting us kicked out of class?” he says, breathless. “Because I promise you, it’s more like a reward?—”

I don’t want to think about why Wade Boehner cares or why it matters to him what happened to my mom. Definitely don’t wanna be thinking about her right now. There are feelings to be avoided. Orgasms to be had. Or an orgasm, at least.

So I knock the head of the toy against the front wall of my pussy, hitting two spots at once, and cry out a whimper, flushing all other thoughts from my brain.

One of his hands squeezes his cock through tented shorts. “You’re fucking killing me, Freckles.”

“Yeah?” I pant. “Show me how much.” My gaze drops to his grip. “Pull it out.”

His waistband snaps below his balls, upright dick fully engorged.

“Touch yourself,” I demand.

Wade responds with a firm stroke, then thumbs over the ripe cherry red crown with a hiss.

“Faster.”

“You too.” He whines. “I wanna watch you come all over my bed again.”

“Good boys ask nicely.” A shiver runs through him. “You like that? Being called a good boy?”

“ Fuck , yes. Call me whatever you want. Just don’t stop.” His jaw ticks as his grasp tightens, pumps matching my pace. “Please?”

Something about the raw, vulnerable need in his tone and pants-down, cock-out stance stokes the fire of pleasure. It sears through me. “Please, what?”

“Please let me watch you come on my bed.” He can barely get the words out. “Keep playing with that pussy.”

I yelp and hold the vibrator at a delicious angle, continuing to slide it through me.

“Fuck,” Wade groans, his hand moving frantically.

This idiot makes me lose any semblance of sense.

“Tell me how much you hate me again, Freckles.”

A garbled noise escapes my throat as pleasure waves through, ready to drown me.

“And don’t lie. I can hear how wet you are.”

“I’m gonna come,” I say through gasps. “But you don’t get to.”

His hand drops, but his cock doesn’t. It bobs mid-air as Wade scrubs the torture on his face and yanks at his hair.

My walls tighten around the silicone shaft, eyes screwed shut. The pleasure peaks as I arch through the high with a scream. I tremble through the steady vibrations of the toy, then relax into the gray cushioned headboard, sighing in content when I pull it out.

Pretty Boy sobs out a laugh. “Maybe you’re right. Maybe I do hate you.”

Through the daze, a surprisingly sinister idea forms. “You’re about to hate me even more.”

I abandon the dildo on the mattress and walk the line to Wade, peeling away my sports bra from its sweaty skin. My nipples relish the attention of his gaze.

His throat clenches, like the hands at his sides.

I kneel.

Pre-cum leaks from his tip.

“Better not let that go to waste.” I offer my hand. “Can I?”

He rapidly nods.

I fist the base of his cock. “You want my mouth, Pretty Boy?”

“Your tongue, too.” The rushed-out ask gulps down the stiff column of his neck.

“ Tsk . So greedy.” I lick the drop away. Wade’s eyes flicker shut, his stable posture teetering the short stride to the wall behind him. “Maybe I’ll stop.”

The lie tastes as salty as he does.

“Please—don’t.”

Heat and warmth flood the space between my legs, panties doing nothing to contain it. My lips wrap over the swollen head, suckling before leaving it with another lick of his dripping slit. “More?”

“More,” he begs. His hands grip the wall.

I study his cock’s thickness and weight in my hold with a twist. Wade hisses and whimpers.

One of my hands rises to his bare hip, the other guiding his to my nape, pushing his fingers through the tied hair there.

I take in an inch, then another, letting him glide deeper and deeper. Ridged veins spread his pre-cum over my tongue. It drips down my throat, and I swallow.

“Fu— fuck—” Wade stills, gushing the most delicate gasp out when he’s slotted all the way in, my nose buried in the wispy trail of hair above his throbbing cock. I put his free hand against my pulse so he can feel himself there. “Your mouth…”

When I shift off, he thrusts in, and I allow it, allow him to wrap my ponytail around his wrist and fuck my mouth as he likes. I suck and gag as he speeds up, moan after unsettled moan flowing out of him.

“Your mouth was made for me to fuck.”

I thrill at the filth. My hand slips under the sagging waistband of my destroyed panties and plunge two fingers in without resistance.

Eyelids heavy, Wade peers down at me. “Hell, yes. Get yourself off.”

I’m so close it hurts, and I manically rub my clit, struggling to breathe through my nose.

“You’re fucking gorgeous with your mouth full.”

The orgasm explodes unexpectedly as I choke on him. Muttered curses grate through his teeth, sloppy movements signaling me to finish what I started.

I don’t, though. The alarm on my phone telling me to get ready for work rings.

I retract with a pop.

Wade gargles a no , jaw locked open at the lost orgasm.

My knees push from the floor to stand, satisfied with the state he’s in.

Good. Let him get a taste of the frustration.

“Gotta go. Procrasturbating is no excuse to be late for work.”

I step out of the ruined panties and tsk . “Look at the mess you’ve made.” The arousal-doused lace sticks where I crumple it in my palm. “I have a right mind to make you clean it up.”

His mouth practically waters at the suggestion. I cup his chin and deny him. “Maybe next time you can taste me. Right now, you’ll have to settle for tasting yourself.”

He quivers when I give him a tongue-filled kiss but doesn’t come.

A double pat to his cheek doles out my approval.

“Good boy.”

Wade crumbles, shuffling forward while pulling up his shorts and face-plants into bed. His flattened palm slaps the sheeted surface as if tapping out of a wrestling ring.

I gloat.

I won.

“That was fun, Pretty Boy. We’ll have to do this again.”

He puts up two fingers in a weak salute, still face down.

This entire exchange puts me in such a good mood, I sing in the shower and get dressed while whistling an upbeat refrain. Wade remains in his face-down position as I zip up my gym bag.

“You alive?” I poke one meaty buttcheek from the side.

His words muffle from within the mattress. “Barely, no thanks to you.”

“You regret telling me to use you now, don’t ya?”

Wade’s chest rises and falls through an extended breath. I brace for him to tell me to fuck off and never come back. That he’s done dealing with me.

But clear as day, he says, “Not even a little bit.”

Pride floats me right to my car.

Almost to the parkade exit, I reach for my phone to text Mel, letting her know I’m on my way but running a few minutes late, screeching to a halt when I realize it isn’t there.

Damn. I must’ve left it on the nightstand.

Mumbling a string of fucks to no one but myself, I re-park and rush back into the building, snickering at the memory of denying Wade a proper finish.

I punch in the key code and jog to the bedroom, hoping to make a quick exit. But I am horribly unprepared for what I find instead of my phone.

Wade Boehner. Stark naked. Leaning against the same spot on the headboard as I’d been. Massive, hard cock in hand, a familiar nude lace bunched around the erect length. Moaning with every stroke. His mouth envelopes something pink.

My car keys fall to the floor in a sharp clang. My mouth joins them.

“Back to torment me some more?” He spits the toy out and motions to its lifeless form next to him. “I cleaned up your mess.”

A knot lodges itself in my throat. His desperation— holy fuck . My fresh panties are in danger.

His eyes sparkle, lips tilting up in one corner, continuing to pump my used, cum-soaked panties down his length.

It’s aggravatingly hot.

“Well? What’ll it be, Freckles? You gonna stand there and stare, or you gonna sit on this cock and ride me until you’re spent?”