Page 35 of Tyler (Bummerset Shore University #2)

“Well, yeah. That’s what it does. It’s called the rape drug for a reason, Ty.

If you take too much, you go limp and are out of it, you won’t remember a thing the next day, it’s what makes it so scary.

But just a little for recreational use? Like this?

” She gestures to the writhing pillow-humper beside her.

“It basically lowers every single inhibition. You get real… uninhibited. Touchy. Needy. Horny as hell. You want to be touched. You want to touch. You will be like this until you get it out of your system and crash.”

“Uninhibited,” I mutter, frowning.

“That’s the word,” she says, with a sigh. “Free of all shame and filter. It’s dangerous in the wrong hands and dose, but it’s used as a party drug for a reason. It can be quite fun, actually. If done properly and safely, you know…”

I cringe and snort at the same time, cheeks flushing hot. “Yeah, well, he barely has a filter to start with. But what do you mean by getting it out of his system?”

“Well… I think you could come up with something.”

I groan. “I can’t exactly hop on a plane and fuck him into the mattress right now, can I?”

Missy chuckles, even as her eyes soften. “Nope. But you’re the only one he wants, that’s for damn sure.”

Right on cue, Jace groans a slurred, needy “Ty-ler…” again.

“As for how you can help him… Well, ah… You could help him ‘get it out of his system’ over the phone. Get the pressure off.”

I press my lips together as I contemplate that. Shit, now I know that he’s going to be fine tomorrow, and that it was an accident, my initial anger has diminished a bit. I’m still angry about this of course, and hope he’ll be okay tomorrow. But for now, if he needs me to be okay…

“I’m gonna leave you two alone on the call.

I’ll prop the phone against the lamp so he can see you, and you can just talk to him until he crashes, or, you know…

Do something other than talk. It would really help him, trust me.

If he starts looking like he’s gonna hurl, I’ll be just outside—text Ava, okay?

” She gives me a pointed look before she settles the phone at the perfect angle so I can see Jace.

“And please, Ty. For the love of God. Don’t let him come all over my phone. ”

I let out a quiet laugh, shaking my head at how Jace’s writhing on the sheets. “I don’t think I can make any promises.”

“Ty,” she warns.

“Fine. I’ll do my best.”

This is ridiculous. Absolutely batshit ridiculous.

What do I even say? What the hell do I do ? My man is high off his ass on GHB, grinding on a pillow, and I’m on a video call like I’m supposed to soothe him to sleep with bedtime stories or something. Or with other kinds of stories actually…

Of course I always want to help him . And if helping him means getting him off so he can crash, sleep and be okay… then maybe I have to do it.

Jace is usually the forward one. The one constantly pushing my buttons, trying to fluster me with his smirks and filthy one-liners—and yeah, I secretly love it. But right now?

Right now, he’s just soft and slurred and the lust is practically rolling off of him in waves.

“Ty?” he whispers, having heard my laugh. He tilts his head toward the screen with that dreamy, dazed look in his eyes. “Oh fuck, b-baby. I mis—missed you…” His mouth parts as he stares at me, pupils blown wide, eating up every trace of gray in those stormy eyes.

He looks wrecked. Gorgeous. Longing.

And completely mine.

And then he lets out a long, wicked groan, pushing his head back into the pillow as he rolls onto his back, rubbing his own pecs and stomach now. “Shit, I want you so fucking bad right now.”

I take a deep breath, deciding to just… be there for him. “Then have me, baby,” I say, low and steady, even though my heart’s thundering in my chest. This is either going to be the weirdest or the hottest experience of my life.

His eyes flutter open again, a lazy, sloppy smile tugging at his lips. “Can’t. You’re in the phone.”

Besides this whole mess of a situation, a laugh bubbles out of me before I can stop it. Jesus, he’s high as fuck—but still him . Still my Jace.

And if this is what he needs right now; if hearing me, seeing me, getting this release will help him wind down, get whatever’s in his system out and sleep it off, then I’m all in.

I get off the bed, making sure the door’s locked before I kick off my chucks and tug off my hoodie and joggers, leaving me in just my boxers.

The second I climb back on the bed, I grab the phone, set it on my nightstand and angle it again so he has a full view of me.

He sucks in a breath like I’m the most beautiful thing he’s ever seen. “There you are.”

His voice is thick. Full of heat. Full of love. And fuck, if it doesn’t make something deep inside me clench in want.

“Here I am,” I reply, which triggers another fucking moan.

“Oh, shit Ty-ler. Y-your voice . It’s so fucking hot and deep and growly. I love how it’s always so growly. Did you know that?”

The corner of my mouth tugs up. I can’t help it. “I know, Jacie. Now get your pants off.”

He doesn’t need to be told twice.

His hands move immediately, fumbling a little as he pushes his jeans down—boxers going with them. He whines when they get caught around one ankle, and kicks them off sloppily before flopping back onto the bed like it took all the energy he had left.

Jesus .

Shit, I told Missy I’d keep her phone clean. But with how quick he’s getting rid of everything—pants gone, boxers gone, and now flat on his back with his gorgeous cock flushed and hard against his stomach—I’m pretty sure I won’t be able to keep that promise.

I suck in a breath when he wraps a hand around the base, thumb grazing along the underside like he knows exactly what that does to me.

He moans again, louder this time, as he presses his head back into the pillow, hips twitching up.

A shuddery gasp slips out of him. “Oh fuck, this feels so good. So, so fucking good. I want you—God, Ty, I want you to— to touch me. I want your hands, your mouth, your dick, all of you. I need it so bad I could cry.”

His voice cracks on the last word, his eyes wide and glassy, like all that desperation is spilling straight out of his chest.

Christ .

He’s wrecked.

And I’ve never loved him more.

Even drugged, when he was not fully in his own mind, he still called for me , still wanted me . And if that shit isn’t heady as fuck, I don’t know what is.

My voice drops, lower than I’ve ever heard it. Guttural. Raw. Possessive. Nothing like myself.

“Touch yourself, Jacie. Pretend it’s me. Come on, baby. Show me what you like.”

He obeys instantly. One hand roams his chest and stomach again in slow, teasing strokes that make his hips jerk. While the other wraps around himself, fingers tightening with every glide, breath hitching at every twist.

His neck arches, the cord along his throat straining, and all I can think about is how fucking badly I want my tongue there. How badly I want to bite that spot where his pulse thumps.

“Does that feel good?” I murmur, my own hand sneaking into my boxers, already hard and aching. I palm myself, just to take the edge off.

“Fuck yes,” he breathes, dropping his head to the side, heavy-lidded eyes catching mine through the screen before he notices what I’m doing. “Oh s-shit, show me that beautiful dick.”

I push my boxers down just enough for him to see, wrap my hand around myself as his lips part on a moan.

“Hng. I want to get inside you. Or you inside me. Or what the fuck ever. Shit .”

I groan. Deep and rumbling.

Do I hate that he got drugged? Absolutely.

Am I going to knock someone the fuck out the next time I see his crew? Without question.

But is this the hottest fucking thing I’ve ever seen? Hell. Fucking. Yes.

“Shit,” Jace whines suddenly, desperate and breathless. “I don’t have the clone here… Fuck, Ty, do you have it? Do you? Please, show me. That’s so fucking hot, I can’t—”

I can’t help the grin that pulls at my mouth. “It’s right here, baby.” I reach off screen for the drawer beside my bed, grab some lube and the purple copy of his dick we made as a joke, and show it to him.

His moan could bring the damn house down.

“Fuck, fuck, fuck. Oh, shit, show me. I swear to God, I’m gonna fuck you ‘til I forget my own fucking name when I get home. I swear. I fucking swear, Ty. But you have to do it yourself now.”

I stroke myself once, slow and deliberate, just for him. “Five more days, Jacie. You better be ready for me. I will be for you.”

His eyes go hazy as he slides two fingers into his mouth, wetting them thoroughly, and my breath catches in my throat. “What’re you doing?”

“I don’t have lube, so this’ll have to do. And I’m doing the same thing as you,” he croaks. Then those fingers disappear behind his balls. I can’t see much, just the twitch in his thigh and the way his breath shudders when he breaches himself, but holy shit, how I can imagine it.

Fuck. It’s the same damn thing I’m doing, and I let out a groan when I slide my fingers all the way in, pump them in and out.

Jace whimpers low in his throat in response, hips twitching as he tries to keep still while he works himself over. His gaze locked on me now—glassier than before, mouth open, little gasps slipping out like he’s being touched through the screen.

I drag my fingers back out of myself, slick with lube and need. My other hand reaches off-camera and grabs the thing he asked for. Jace sees it. His eyes go wide. He doesn’t say anything—just swallows hard, breath stuttering as I squeeze a line of lube along the length of it.

“Oh my God,” he whispers.

“You better be ready for me next week,” I murmur, voice low and rough, just for him. “Because I am so fucking ready for you. To see you again, to hold you again…” I angle the dildo, breath shallow, and push in slow, steady, eyes never leaving the screen. “To have you again.”

Jace moans, hand frozen between his legs, like he’s forgotten how to move.

“Tyler, baby…”

Oh shit. Oh shit. It’s so fucking big. It’s been two months since I was stuffed this good.

Sure, I jerk it every once in a while—preferably when I’m calling Jace or watching pics or videos he sent—but I haven’t put more than a couple of fingers in.

Haven’t used the dildo yet. I was saving it. For when we were together.

But this? This shit is un-fucking-real.

My hips jerk at the stretch, toes curling. I try a couple of experimental thrusts, shallow at first, and feel it in my fucking soul. My abs clench, whole body tensing as the pressure hits just right.

On the screen, Jace starts to move again. His arm jerks rhythmically, blonde strands plastered to his forehead, eyes glazed over like he’s right there with me, breathing what I breathe, feeling what I feel.

“Fuck, Ty,” he groans, voice hoarse. “Don’t stop. Please. Don’t you fucking stop.”

I don’t. I can’t.

Another thrust, deeper now. I chase the pressure, chasing him, chasing that high that’s already teasing the edges of my vision. I shove the dildo in one last time, harder than I meant to, angled straight at my prostate, just fucking right.

And I see fucking stars.

Everything in me pulls taut, then breaks loose all at once.

I swear I fucking shoot off like a damn fountain with how hard I come, clenching so tight around the silicone that I almost black out.

Jace follows me right over, eyes clenched shut, a shout ripping out of his throat so loud it sounds like it was torn from somewhere very deep.

“Oh shit—oh shit, oh fuck. Ty , that is… oh shit, ” he moans, voice breaking into ragged groans.

His hips twitch helplessly as he works himself through it, and I can only stare , wide-eyed and panting, as I slowly extract the dildo from myself, gasping when it finally slips free.

My legs are shaking. My hand is trembling.

There’s cum on my stomach, my sheets, probably my ceiling .

Jace is still blinking like he’s in outer space, his fingers somehow still inside him, when—

I hear a door slam open.

“Jace?! What the fuck —Why were you screaming? I thought you were having a seizure!” Missy’s voice is high, panicked, full of drama.

Oh, shit.

“Miss, get out!” I exclaim, trying to hold back my laughter because Jace, my poor Jacie baby, is just lying there, covered in cum, fingers still buried in his ass, and looking at her like he’s in a daze. Completely fucking numb.

She lets out a strangled yell. “ Jesus Christ , Jace! I didn’t need to see that !”

“What? My dick?” he says, all deadpan, still breathless. “Do you think it’s curved? Ty has a curve. It’s beautiful . Wanna see? Wait, lemme show you. He’s naked, too—”

He reaches for the phone and—

“ Don’t get cum on my phone !” Missy screeches. “I swear to God— DON’T TOUCH IT !”

I completely fucking lose it. Laughing so hard I can’t breathe, can’t think. My abs are burning and tears prick my eyes. This shit is unreal .

Missy makes a noise of pure disgust and I hear a loud, “Just fucking buy me a new one!” followed by a shout further away: “And I need bleach and therapy ! So much therapy!”

The door slams shut behind her.

The room finally settles. Quiet again, except for the sound of our breathing.

Jace leaves the phone where it is and flops back onto the bed with a groan, face still flushed, hair plastered to his temple, completely spent. I stare at him. He’s so fucking perfect, and all I want is to reach through the screen and pull him into my arms.

“Hey,” I murmur, my voice quieter now. “You okay?”

He nods, eyes still glassy, not really focused on anything, lips twitching in the faintest smile.

“I love you,” I say softly. “Fuck, I miss you, Jace. When you get here, we’re not leaving the bed. We’re locking the door, ordering in, turning off our damn phones. I’m gonna keep you in bed for days , baby. Break the fucking mattress. Ruin the sheets. Make up for every second we’ve been apart.”

His eyes flutter closed, that smile growing. “Penis promise?”

“Swear on my life,” I whisper. “It’s you and me. Whole damn week. Nothing else exists.”

He exhales slowly. “Okay,” he murmurs. “Okay. I can make it five more days.”

“Technically four, babe. I’ll see you in LA.”

He opens his eyes again to stare right into my very fucking soul. “Only four more.”

“You got this.”

I watch him drift, can practically feel him crashing. His eyes go half-lidded, lashes fluttering, breathing evening out.

And I stay right there, whispering soft promises until he falls asleep and I’m sure he’s safe.

I tell him how fucking much I love him.

I tell him how crazy I am about him. That I’m not whole without him.

I tell him he has my heart, all of it, and I’m not taking it back.

I go on and on, voice low and steady, until I’m sure he’s really out—face relaxed, chest rising slow and even—and only then do I finally let the silence take over.