He does. He inches into my body with the patience of a saint, stretching me and owning me in a way I never thought possible. When he’s fully seated inside me, we both freeze, just staring at each other in some sort of trance.
I grip his ass in my hands and hold him there, not allowing him to move, but not allowing him to pull away either. I soak in every second of it, every flex of his cock inside me as his neck tenses with the need to move. The need for friction and release.
“Fuck me, Grayson,” I finally breathe, and he smiles the most beautiful smile I’ve ever seen, and that’s saying something because he’s usually smiling.
When he pulls almost entirely out and then moves back inside me in one fluid motion, we both moan in intense pleasure. The tip of his cock hits that place inside me and drives me fucking wild with a desperation to come. “There. Please god. Right there.”
He nails my prostate again with precision, and I spread my legs wider, pulling my knees up and giving him better access. My cock is rock-hard now and leaking onto my stomach, begging for relief.
The muscles in his arms are pulled tight as he rams into my body over and over again, providing me with just enough pleasure to totally forget about the pain. “Yes,” I gasp, wrapping my hand around my shaft and stroking it with vigor. “I’m close.”
“Thank fuck.” He leans forward, kissing me. “Come. Please come.”
Then he leans back and slams into me, hitting my prostate and making me cry out as cum splashes over my abs. It triggers his release, sending him over the edge with only a few more strokes of his cock before he collapses on top of me.
“You’re fucking heavy,” I grunt, and he only laughs, smoothing the hair on my head and not moving.
“I’m jelly. I can’t move.”
I laugh at that, feeling light in the moment. “Well then, we’re fucked because I think my body is just as useless.”
He kisses my temple. “I’ll move in a minute. I want to feel you a little while longer.”
The words are innocent, but they still strike a chord deep within me.
Because a little bit longer is all we have.
THIRTY-FOUR
I’m a high-school graduate.
Shit. How is that even possible?
I walked across that stage today and shook my principal’s hand, with my parents in the crowd, congratulating the other parents around them who were probably envious because I graduated top of my class.
I’m sure they gloated about my grades and going to the West Coast soon. Not because they’re actually proud. Because it was what was expected, and that’s what I did.
I’m surprised when I see Rhett walking through the crowd at my house, searching the room for someone. It’s stupid to hope it’s me, but what else would he be doing here?
“Rhett?” His worried face has me on high alert as we meet in the middle of the grand living room of my parent’s house. “You okay?”
“Is Bree here?”
“What? Bree?” I shake my head and look around. “I don’t think so. I haven’t seen her. Why?”
He grabs his phone out of his pocket. “She sent me a text that she was here. I don’t understand why the hell she would come here. She hates parties.”
Yeah, I don’t think I’ve ever seen her at one. “I haven’t seen her, but it’s kind of out of control, so I don’t know half the people here.” I stick my hands in my pockets, oddly embarrassed about the massive house party going on around us.
“Yeah, how did this happen by the way? I didn’t know you were throwing a party.”
I grip the back of my neck nervously, still pissed off about it but trying to play it off. “My parents insisted. And they’re conveniently on their way out of the country, so you know if it goes south, it’s just high-school shenanigans.”
“Your parents encouraged a house party?” He studies me, and I feel like a freak. I know it’s weird.
“Yeah. You know, the bigger the better. Must show my popularity, and you know, I earned it.” I’m sure he hears the sarcasm in my tone, and I don’t have the energy to hide it. I didn’t want a big party. I didn’t want to be around anyone but Rhett tonight. Even though, being the responsible guy he is—instead of going to a party, he was at work. “They surprised me with it when we got back from dinner.”
“Wow.”
“Yeah, I’m fucked up.”
He laughs at that, a smile playing on his lips. “You’re not. They are. But you’re not.” He looks around again. “So, no Bree?”
“Let’s go look for her. It’s a big house, and to be honest, I’ve been hiding a lot.”
We look around, and I can’t say that I hate having Rhett in my company. He looks good in his ripped jeans and black Hostile Ink t-shirt. “Did you leave work to come here?”
“Yeah, Kole is pretty cool. I don’t know. I just got a weird vibe from Bree’s text. It didn’t seem like her.”
“Why would she come here without you guys?” I think out loud. Not helping, I know, but it doesn’t make sense.
We make our way downstairs, and I spot familiar curly hair first as a couple rolls around on my couch. Then I see Josh’s face.
“Oh fuck.”
“Bree?” Rhett is starting toward the couple making out, and I catch up quickly as he grabs Josh’s t-shirt, yanking him back and effectively off Bree. “What the fuck is happening right now?”
“Back off, Rhett.” Josh stands but stumbles and then shoves Rhett.
“Me back off?” Rhett’s fists are clenched at his sides as he looks over at Bree, who’s clearly out of it too. She tugs her t-shirt—that had ridden up—back down and smooths out her hair.
“Rhett, calm down.”
“Calm down? You text me you’re going to a party at Grayson’s, and I leave work to make sure you’re okay, only to find you here with Josh? Are you okay? How much did you have to drink?”
Josh holds up his hands, clearly drunk or high or both—his red-rimmed eyes speak to that—and he’s laughing now. “We didn’t have that much. We’re just having fun.”
Rhett grabs Josh’s collar, and I tense as he yanks his body toward his. “Did you put something in her drink?”
Bree stands up, rolling her eyes and pulling at Rhett’s hands. “Let him go. I’m not that drunk or out of it, okay? It was just a stupid weak moment.”
“Weak moment?” Rhett turns to her. “What the hell?”
“I thought you’d want to come to Grayson’s party, so I told you to come. And then I ran into Josh.”
“With your tongue?”
She blushes and then giggles, clearly feeling whatever she had to drink. “I’m having fun, Rhetty. Okay? It wouldn’t be so bad for us all to loosen up. That’s what I decided. The baseball game, prom, a party. I’m just trying to experience it all before it’s over for me too. I mean, you moved out, and Fletch is going to college.” Her words hit me right in the gut, and they must punch Rhett too because he looks sick. “I’m just lonely.”
“Shit.” He releases Josh and turns to Bree. “I’m here, Bree. I’m not going anywhere.”
She sniffles, not laughing anymore, and I see the sadness in her eyes. I feel bad for the poor girl. A lot is changing. “Yes, you are. You moved out. You have a boyfriend.” She gestures to me, and Rhett and I both freeze.
“What?” Josh’s brow crinkles, and Bree’s eyes widen as she covers her mouth.
“Oh shit. No. Not that. Not a boyfriend. I didn’t mean that.” She looks panicked, and my heart nearly leaps out of my chest. Rhett looks like he’s going to puke.
“Boyfriend?” Josh’s glazed-over eyes meet mine. “You two?”
“Uh . . .” I’m still frozen.
“No.” Bree shakes her head, but then she clutches her stomach. “Oh god. I’m going to throw up.”
“Fuck,” Rhett groans and looks to me. “I’m so sorry. I . . .”
“Go.” I nod toward Bree. “Help her. Take her home. It’s okay.”
He looks like he wants to argue, but she makes another gagging noise, and he guides her away, looking back at me with remorse in his eyes. I wave him off and turn back to Josh.
“You’re fucking Rhett?”
I clear my throat, wondering if I can play this off like Bree made a drunken mistake. But I’m so damn tired of it all. I don’t want to play it off. “Yeah.”
He thinks it over and then laughs, slapping my back. “And here I thought I was stealing your girlfriend. Huh. Holy fuck.”
“Nope.” My lips make a popping noise as I wait for him to freak out or say something douchey.
“Huh.”
“Huh?”
He grins and then shrugs. “I mean, he doesn’t do it for me. But if you think he’s hot, cool.”
“That’s it?”
He looks hurt now, frowning. “You think I wouldn’t be okay with you fucking a dude?”
I shrug. “I don’t know. I’m pretty sure my dad wouldn’t be okay with it. He can’t find out.”
He flops down on the couch after grabbing a beer I hope was his and taking a swig. “Well, your dad is an asshole. Mine too. But I’m not. And I’m not going to tell anyone nor do I care who you fuck.”