Page 47 of Try Me

I took him as far down as I could. His fingers tightened the lower I went and then held me in place when I stopped. Only for a second, and then they released. I felt the tension in his body relax incrementally as I started sucking him off in earnest.

“Fuckfuckfuckfuck. You havenoidea how many times I’ve thought of this.”

I figured it was probably about the same number of times I had, but the breathless confession spurred me on and made me want to do better. I wanted to blow his mind so completely that Errol and his man bun were forever overwritten by me and my greedy mouth.

I swallowed around him, rubbed my lips over the underside of his cock, and paid attention to how he responded to certain things, like the little flicks of my tongue that made his thighs tremble.

Chet stopped trying to steer me and just held on instead. “Oh fuck.”

I could barely hear the words, but I could read them on his lips. Goddamn right. I’d never had a dick in my mouth before, and in my head, it didn’t go down between us exactly this way, but no lie it was fucking satisfying as shit making his legs shake.

I doubled down, letting him slide nearly all the way from my mouth before I licked and sucked around his head. I’d watched hours of blowjob porn, fantasizing about this very goddamn thing.

When I plunged down again, my mouth filled with the salty tang of precum and his hips jerked. If we weren’t in a club, I would’ve pulled his pants down lower, cupped his balls in my hand, and felt the tender skin sliding over my fingers.

I would’ve licked and sucked them, too, and maybe his ass. But there were certain parameters I wasn’t comfortable messing with. For now.

Chet’s thighs went rigid underneath my hands, and he started rolling his hips to meet my downstrokes, fucking my mouth. Seeing his face contort with pleasure each time I flicked my tongue over him was heady as hell. I could’ve done it all night.

He curled his fingers into my skull, gripping the roots of my hair tight enough to sting, and I groaned around him, my own dick throbbing.

“Shit.” Chet’s lips pulled back from his teeth. He was close. I could taste it, feel it, fucking smell his arousal, and I loved that it was me doing this to him, that it was my mouth driving him crazy.

He dropped his other hand, fingertips tracing down my cheek and following the curve of my jaw to the underside of my chin as he curled over, closer to my ear. “The fuck are you doing to me, Farrow?” He spoke in a raspy, wrecked way that lit me up, like I’d stumbled upon a key that unlocked a part of himself he’d forgotten.

And while I didn’t have an answer for him, I hoped it was along the same lines of what he was doing to me. I tugged the vertex of his open fly wider at the same time I went all the way down, forcing his cock into the back of my throat until I couldn’t breathe.

Chet shuddered out a hard rasp of breath as he lost it, his fingers clamping on my jaw, holding me still as he surged forward. His release slid hot and thick down my throat as his thighs quaked with the force of his orgasm.

I kept my nose buried in his pubes until his dick stopped pulsing, then let go of his waistband and sank back on my heels, panting.

Chet tucked himself away, then ran both his hands over his face and back through his hair, chest rising in a deep, satisfied inhale.

Ignoring my aching dick, I rose shakily to my feet and braced my hands on either side of him. His eyes were hazy with an incandescent postorgasmic mellowness. A loose smile played at the corners of his lips.

“The fuck was that?” He swiped a hand lazily at my shirt collar and tried to pull me closer.

At the last second, I diverted my mouth from his lips to his ear. “You asked what I was thinking about the other day. On the ropes course? That was it.”

His mouth fell open in disbelief, and I kept that image branded into the back of my mind as I turned and walked away.

Inside me, every fucking thing was humming with a dangerous, magnetic energy I didn’t even want to try to stop.

15

Chet

“No. No. No.Ewww, no. Sad. No. God, does he have a vitamin deficiency? Has he ever been out in sunlight?”

Listening to Amanda’s peanut gallery commentary as she swiped through Tinder was a familiar study backdrop. Technically, she was supposed to be studyingwithme, but our study sessions usually devolved to Amanda messing around on her phone, head at the foot of my bed, feet on the wall, while I actually used the laptop open on my thighs. Admittedly, I was a little distracted tonight, trying not to let my mind wander back to Mark on his knees at Hype. The bone-dry case studies I was wading through for Lena didn’t help.

“All right, all right. Let me see vitamin deficiency guy,” I said, taking the bait and shoving my laptop aside.

She backtracked and angled the screen so I could see the guy who, okay, appeared a little pale and undernourished. “Gollums need love, too?” I suggested, and she cracked a smile.

“He sent me a message. And, I mean, he seems smart and sometimes the little ones come packing big heat. But I dunno. I could take him for a sub sandwich?” She tapped her lower lip.

“That sounds like a humanitarian act, not a date.”