Page 6 of Popular (Private: The Extended Edition #5)

Too bad fake relationships usually turn into a nightmare.

“Didn’t think I’d get to see those cheerleader skills in action,” my coach warmly teases during his casual retrieving of my ball, “but I gotta admit. I’m impressed.” Once he’s headed back towards me with the object in his grasp, he adds, “I don’t think I’ve ever seen one get that much air.”

“We typically don’t.” Disdain darts across tongue over the amendment I have to make.

“ Didn’t. ” I give my hair a ruffle to help distract myself from the lingering resentment regarding being retired.

“Half-time or sideline performances rarely ever offer the dancers – some of who are highly trained in acrobatics and gymnastics – the opportunity to demonstrate their extensive skills.” His arrival in front of me barely precedes my admission.

“It’s more about properly timed ass pops and hair flips. ”

“You wish it weren’t.”

My lips press firmly together instead of leaking out the answer.

“You wanna make it so it’s not.”

“I wanna make it so that it’s both. ”

The confession causes him to lift his brows in curiousity.

“You can have beautiful women shaking their ass and playing with their hair and doing kick double full twists.”

“I like how that sounds.”

“I like how it looks.”

“I would like to see how it looks,” J.T. gives my loose tank top an encouraging tug, “with you choreographing it.”

Disbelief and adoration wrestle for the right to respond ultimately agreeing to a somewhat lecherous, twisted middle ground. “ And I would like to see how you look with your cock in my mouth. ”

Being completely caught off guard renders him speechless.

“I’ve never given a guy a blowie during a round of mini golf,” is quietly announced in our agreed upon “getting to know” fashion.

One long, slow slick is delivered to his lips, likely to buy him time to collect his composure. “What about a round of regular golf?”

I lean in closer at the same time I salaciously state, “ Not that either. ”

Gravelly groans are poorly stifled.

Angling my face towards the other members of our group, I slyly suggest, “Why don’t you two play on?” He anxiously grips the fabric in his grasp tighter. “We’ll catch up.”

Jer makes no effort to argue, inspiring Bryn to wordlessly follow his lead.

The two of them thoughtlessly continue onward with our security guards in close range, yet the two of us consciously trek backward to search for the privacy needed.

We maneuver around a couple of other small groups on the course.

Two security guards.

A cocktail waitress.

Eventually, we cross paths with a janitor who – for two Frankies – grants us access to the keycard needed, employees only stockroom where our mouths frantically mesh together in a mess of tongues and teeth and moans before the door even shuts.

While dropping to my knees to enjoy a new mouthcapade was initially the idea, J.T.’s hand greedily cupping my face as his fingers tangle themselves in my hair, deliciously delays the adventure.

How he manages to pair the tugs of my strands to the same speed of his wild lashes is mindboggling.

And breathtaking.

Yet each breath he steals seems to only fuel him to work his tongue faster.

Harder.

Whip and whirl and whirl and whip until I’m not sure if I’m whimpering for more or for mercy.

Pawing at the button to his shorts, desperate to have more of him, feel more of him, seems to be frivolous and fruitless, but I don’t stop.

I repeatedly fondle the territory in a blatant refusal to give up.

Determined to be a champion.

The one thing I’ve always been.

Knowing all I need is our lips separated for a split moment, I purposely run my palm along the hard length of his imprisoned cock, prompting him to pull back on a chesty grumble, “ Fuckkkkk, Beloved. I wanna come in your mouth, not in my shorts. ”

Smugness radiates through my smirk. “ I’ve never had a guy do that for me. ”

“ And I never wanna be the guy that does that for you. ”

Small snickers escape us both prior to me successfully undoing the button to his bottoms.

Lowering them along with his boxer briefs to the ground.

I do my best not to gawk at the mouthwatering sight I’ve been blessed with but fail.

Happily.

Miserably.

Fail.

One, thick, drop of pre-cum sits tauntingly on the tip of his dick, daring me to stop admiring its long length, jeering me to drop my jaw to swallow his thickness, challenging me to do it in a single, flawless motion.

Which I do.

Inching him inside would’ve been the wiser and safer or at least smarter play but that’s not me.

That’s not my style.

Risks for rewards has always been my policy.

Will always be my policy.

And something tells me that that’s exactly what J.T. needs in his partner.

Even if it’s just for the next few days.

“ Fuckkkkk ,” groans the man above me for a second time, “ that feels so goddamn good. ”

The urge to smirk is beat by the one to brush my lips against the very base of his cock.

“ Too… ” he airily groans, fingers returning back to my disheveled locks, “ good… ” An abrupt yank sends me backwards to the point his tip is all that’s resting on my tongue. “ You wanna get me off quick, don’t you? ”

I roll my tongue around in a slow circle before sliding completely off to reply, “ Maybe. ”

“ Well, maybe I wanna see those eyes while you swallow my load. ”

Another lick along his slit is delivered.

“ And maybe I wanna see you fucking your hand while I fuck your face. ”

Delighted shock threatens to have me swiftly swallowing him again.

“ I’ve never had a chick touch herself while she blew me, ” he informs on a wolfish grin. “ Be my first, Beloved. ”

Whether it’s his tone or words or the thought of being his first something that leads to me popping the button to my jean shorts is ultimately unclear; although, I really don’t think it matters.

Creating enough space to slip a hand inside matters.

Spreading my thighs a bit wider to accommodate my fingers matters.

Loving the way his hazel eyes roll back into his head when I moan around his cock as I lightly brush my clit matters.

Right now, the only thing I give a shit about is getting us both off.

And the fact his pleasure is amplified by me getting pleasure tells me it won’t take long.

Not that I’m complaining.

Who doesn’t love a quick and dirty orgasm on vacation?

“ You look so fucking perfect like this, ” growls J.T.

, hooded vision latching onto my own. “ And even more like this, ” he states in tandem with diving his hold back into my hair, “ but especially like this… ” One forceful rock forward sends his dick soaring across my tongue, igniting an anxious whimper; however, it’s the second lunge that’s gets me moaning.

Mimicking his thrusts with my hand. Curling my manicured finger inside while my lacy thong aides in securing it in place.

“ That’s it, beloved. ” The scraping of my scalp unleashes more whimpers. “ Just like that. ”

His encouragement causes new waves of wetness to soak the digit.

Inspires my free grasp to graze my nipple.

Tap it.

“ Do that shit again, baby ,” spurs the man currently cradling my head, dick continuously carving itself a path down the back of my throat. “ Spank it. ”

Another light slap is delivered to my stiffening nub.

“ Again. ”

Once more, I swat at the sensitive spot.

“ Again. ”

This time a sting is felt.

Appreciated.

Enjoyed.

“ You’re doing so good, Beloved, ” he gushes after a sharp hiss. “ Pinch it. ”

My thumb and index instantly squeeze together inspiring my drenched muscles to imitate the intimate action.

“ Pull. ”

The first tug barely instilling a response pushes me to deliver another.

And another.

And another.

To increase the strength.

Speed.

Force my mouth to match the escalating pacing.

“ Keep that shit up for me, Beloved, ” he praises at the same time his cock callously invades my throat.

“ Touch yourself. ”Discomfort builds over the repeated grating of my knees against the hardwood, yet delectation effortlessly buries it underneath increasingly brutal bucks and unrelenting yanks and boorish huffs. “ Fuck yourself. ”

A mixture of gargles and cries vibrate around his thick shaft.

“Faster. ”

There’s no hesitation in following his command.

“ Harder. ”

Doing so prompts me to moan more.

My pussy to clamp down on my middle finger tighter.

“ Like that’s my cock deep inside you… ”

Greedily mewling over the notion can’t be stopped.

And neither can the grinding of my hips.

Or constricting of my throat.

“ Like you want me there. ”

Spit slips past my spread lips as I work to swallow more of him.

“ Like you need me there. ”

As I struggle to keep our stares connected.

“ Like I’m the only one that fucking belongs there. ”

Faint pulsing is given in warning.

Anticipation.

“ You’re so fucking perfect for me. ”

Gags and gurgles blend with the clanks and clamors of the objects being knocked off the shelves he’s bumping into.

“ Open wide, ” J.T. barbarously demands during a forceful yank backwards so that his tip is back to resting on the edge of my swollen lips. “ Swallow every last drop while you come for me, Beloved. ”

Blazing bursts instantly skate their way across my thick, eager muscle, sloppily spraying the inside of my cheeks in their race to be the first to find their way down my throat.

Guttural grunt after grunt is attached to each splash, and the sound combined with the ferocious rubbing of my clit, shoves me off the top of the pyramid to join him in unmatched ecstasy.

Hot, heavy pants pour from me in between my gluttonous gulping, needing the salty streams to remind my sore knees, my contorted toes, my trembling thighs, why it was all worth it.

And it was all worth it.

I can’t remember the last guy I hooked up with that not only cared about me getting mine but insisted on it.

Add that to the long list of reasons why I would like to make this fake relationship real.

And why I hate the fact that it probably can’t be.