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So, the following fall semester, Blair would randomly open the door to her dorm, bathroom, or even the library office where she worked and run into cling wrap covered in Vaseline to moisturize her pretty face.
Good times. Good times.
“Thanks.” I tuck the fleshlight under my arm, eyeing her role-play costume. “Will you be cleaning my lady when I’m done?”
She purses her tempting lips. “I don’t do small jobs.”
“Good, because I have a very big one.”
“That’s your infection, not mine.”
“You’re the one who gave it to me three, no, four times in one night.”
“And yet here we are,” she says. “Four months later. I’m cured and not looking for another yeasty problem.”
I chuckle, actually worried if our fucking gave her a yeast infection. But with the way Blair made my dick lusciously sore for days afterward, I bet it was worth it, too.
But the afterward?
“I have another problem,” I tell her.
She bats her lashes. “Can’t find a kitty better than mine? Told you. And sorry, not sorry.”
True, so true.
“And your kitty can’t find a dick better than mine,” I taunt. “I remember lots of moans and squirting and screaming my name. Even got a video to prove it.”
She grins. “I remember giving you pussy so good you almost passed out.”
I grin back. “I remember giving you cock so good; I’m the first you swallowed and took raw.”
“And I’m the first to thrill your virgin ass.”
“And I’m the one who fulfills your kinky, alien fantasy.”
Damn, I love this. There are no filters, no shame between us. I hold nothing back with Blair. But everything else?
I’m struggling.
I love our games. I love our pranks and banter. I love everything with Blair, but I don’t have time.
“And I really loved our new book.” So, I get real with her. I lock to her gaze and share my heart with her. Deep down, she’s always had it. “It was really good, Blair. Like really good. Thank you. I’m honored. I’ve read it five times already.”
This hidden, tender feeling between us?
I fight it, and suddenly, it wells in her eyes, too.
She looks away, casting her gaze over the sex chaise. “Thank you, Beau,” she mutters, her pretty lips trembling, fighting back tears. “That means a lot. And thank you for doing it. You made our book number one. You made my dream come true.”
But something hot bites at my eyes, too.
Like we’re living our dreams.
We should be happy…
But we’re not.
Damnit, I’ve been here mere minutes, but I’m right back in that dorm room with Blair. I’m right back in the hotel suite with her, too. I’m right here again, where I’ve always been with her from the moment she opened her door to me.
