Page 102 of The Boyfriend Experience

“He meant… He meant that I was responsible for all the bad things that happen. Not anyone else.”

“But”—Oaklee sighs—“I didn’t ask for this, Lawton. I didn’t do anything to Hanna Harlow except exist.”

“No, that’s not what he meant. He meant I can only control me. No matter what anyone else does to me, only I can control how I react to them.”

She sighs. Bows her head and looks at her hands resting on her legs. “Why were you in juvie?” she asks, peeking up at me through her hair.

“That time?” I laugh. “I had a fight club going. Like… back-alley MMA cage fights. I beat the shit out of a guy one night. Put him in the hospital. But they got me for the illegal gambling, not the fight. He was eighteen, I was only sixteen. But they nailed me for the gambling ring I was running.”

“So you made poor choices,” She sighs again. “I’m sure I’ve made poor choices too, but I swear to God, Lawton, I don’t know what I did to Hanna to make her hate me so much. To make her want to steal from me and lie about my father like this. For whatever reason, I’m her target. It’s like… her mission in life is to ruin mine. And I don’t understand. I just don’t understand why.”

“She’s sick, Oaklee.” I tap her on the head. “Up here. And we can’t control that. We can only control how we react to her.”

She pouts her lips. “You’re my boyfriend experience, not hers.”

I chuckle, then lean forward and kiss her on the mouth, my hands holding her face. And my laugh is real. Even though everything in my life has just been upended—I still have her.

And that’s all that matters.

“I’m sorry,” I say. Because I feel it needs to be said. “I’m sorry for making your life more difficult. For not coming over last night. For not reaching out this morning. For losing my temper and stressing you out. And for the record, Oaklee… you didn’t change me.” I look her in the eyes as I say this because it’s important. “Clothes can’t change me. New boots can’t change me. And this tattoo is me from start to finish. This is me, Oaklee. This is just who I’ve always been. You simply made me see that. You,” I say, “asked me to be myself and no one else. This is me.”

She smiles the real smile. The one I saw the other night. The secret smile only I can see.

And then she says, “The game is over, but we can still win.”

CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX - OAKLEE

I want to be closer to him. I’m sitting in his lap, my face only inches from his. My body pressed to his chest. My hands on his shoulders. Every part of me is already close, and it’s not close enough.

I need skin on skin contact. I need him inside me. “I need you,” I whisper. And then I reach down and pull my shirt over my head. He looks at me in a way no other person has ever looked at me.

It’s hunger.

It’s desire.

There’s a yearning inside him that perfectly matches the longing inside me.

I reach behind my back and unclasp my bra. Letting it fall free. Letting my breasts free too. His hands come up automatically. Cupping and squeezing them, our eyes still locked.

“This wasn’t quite the experience you were looking for,” he says.

“No,” I say back. “I got way more than a boyfriend. I got a partner.”

He slips my bra down my arms and drops it carelessly to the floor. Eyes locked with mine. I tug on the hem of his shirt and bring it over his head. He helps me take it off and drops it on top of my clothes, starting a pile.

I place my hands on his chest. Palms flat so I can feel him. Feel his chest move up and down. Feel his heart quicken with excitement.

And then, just for a second, I have a stab of fear. Fear that Hanna will come and take him away. Fear that she will spend her life trying to ruin us. Fear that she will succeed.

“Hey,” he says. “Don’t go there. Not now.” He leans forward to kiss me. Make me forget everything but him, and me, and what it means to be us. And then he stands up, taking me with him. I wrap my legs around his middle. My breasts pressed to his chest. Our bodies closer now, but still not close enough.

He walks me over to the kitchen island and sets me down in front of it.

I grin, shy. Because I know he’s going to fuck me now. How he’ll do that, I don’t know. All I know is he will make me come, and come, and come again. As many times as I let him.

His fingers are on the button of my jeans, but I place my hand over his and say, “No, you first.”

He grabs me by the waist, turns us in place, and then leans against the counter as I unbutton his jeans, drag them down his legs, and take his cock in my hand as I kneel at his feet.