Ican’t believe I actually thought Gage was gonna drop the L-bomb on me. God, I’m stupid. We’ve only known each other for two months. I should be relieved, right? So why does it feel like my heart’s tied into a fisherman’s knot?
The game hasn’t even started and I’m on my second drink. I want to forget about tonight. I want to forget about the disappointment that Gage and I will never be anything more than friends. Not when my family still depends on me, and not when my self-preservation instincts are programmed to protect me from further heartbreak.
I’ve wanted to be just friends for so long—no strings attached, no memories to be reminisced. But now, I’m beginning to think that maybe I was wrong. Now, I’m beginning to wonder how different my life could be if I stopped fighting love.
Gage’s housemates and their significant others have gathered around a large coffee table, and I guess it’s apparently tradition for them to play some big drinking game every once in a while. Faye and Kit are snuggled on the adjacent couch together, with his hand draped protectively over her belly. I recognize Aeris from class, and the blonde she’s been glued to at the hip must be the boyfriend she was talking about. But aside from them, I’m an outsider to the group. An outsider who just so happens to be matching with their beloved goalie.
“Everyone, this is Cali. Cali, this is everyone,” Gage introduces, to which I wave a meek hand.
It takes about a good five minutes for me to place names to faces, but I know that Hayes is Aeris’ vampire-bitten boyfriend, Josie and Casen are the matching skeletons, Bristol is the football player, Fulton is the nerd, and Faye and Kit are the avocado toast combo.
Gage has his arm dangling over my shoulder in a very couple-y manner, and I’m so close to him that whenever he laughs—which is a lot, considering he’s as drunk as a skunk—the breadth of his chest shakes my entire body. Not only is he my own personal heater, but the proximity allows me a preview of those taut abs and the path of hair disappearing below the band of his ivy undergarment.
There’s something very wrong with me tonight. I’m horny as hell.
Whenever Gage looks at me, I practically purr like a cat in heat. The whole half-naked thing really does it for me, and I know Eve should not sin, but would it be acceptable if Adam was looking like a five-course meal?
I want to slip away from the group and take him into the bathroom. I want to get on my knees on the cold tiles of the floor and take his gigantic dick in my mouth, sucking him down only halfway because he’ll definitely be too long for me to swallow. His meaty girth will stuff the pouches of my cheeks, and he’ll thrust into my throat while he braids his hand into my hair and guides me. I want to feel my scalp sting when he underestimates his strength; I want to watch as his half-mast eyes struggle to stay open. I won’t stop until I’m a drooling mess on his throbbing cock—until there are tears in my eyes and they shower my face. My nose will be squashed against his trimmed thatch of pubes, inhaling the masculine scent of his sweat and musk, and when he unloads in my mouth, I’ll gulp everything he gives me —
“Cali, it’s your turn,” a voice interjects, and I slowly come back down to earth to find a horde of eyes waiting for me to speak.
“Sorry, I zoned out,” I apologize, an inferno of heat amassing in my cheeks. “What are we playing?”
“Never Have I Ever,” Gage whispers, squeezing the cap of my shoulder and unknowingly delivering a series of pleasured pulses to my cunt.
“Right, uh…” The swallow I take chafes my throat, but the penetrating stares disallow me an interval of time to drink from my cup. “Never have I ever…gone skinny dipping.”
A few of the people around the circle drink, as well as Gage, and I get this jealous twinge in the bottom of my belly—one that I definitely did not invite to the party.
Of course Gage has gone skinny dipping. If you have the goods, show them off. Did he go skinny dipping with a girl? Did they fuck in a lake? Did she get to feel him bare as he slid into her? Was he in love with her?
Oh my God. I sound like a crazy person. Why do I care so much? Gage and I aren’t together. Gage is a handsome, talented, young NHL player who probably has boatloads of women throwing themselves at his feet.
He’s not mine.
Aeris goes next, her plastic vampire fangs glinting underneath the low light, and the messy patches of glitter on her skin occasionally catch the ochre refractions splicing across the floorboards. “Never have I ever…been arrested!”
Surprisingly, nobody drinks. Except for Gage.
His throat undulates with each swallow, his hair a storm of umber locks that spill down his temples.
“You’ve been arrested?” I ask in shock.
He wipes the back of his hand across his mouth. “Yep. I stole a llama from a petting zoo once when I was really drunk.”
“We’re not going to have a repeat of that tonight, are we?”
Gage showcases a double-dimpled smile as he bops me on the nose with his finger. “Nope, because you’re gonna look out for me.”
And I thought sober Gage was annoying.
“Ugh, get a room!” Kit shouts, a bunch of laughter rioting from the group. The boisterous noise of overlapping voices seems to drown out the rest of the party, and everyone’s too distracted to eavesdrop on the barefaced filth that exits Gage’s lips.
“I wouldn’t mind getting a room,” he says, nose running the length of my neck, his mouth just barely grazing my sweaty skin.
Oh, no. Stay strong, Cali. My thighs wham together like magnets, hoping to redirect the pressure in my pussy, and I feel a hint of moisture seep through the bikini bottom of my costume, a preface for the waterfall that’s just waiting to flood the dam. The worst part is that Gage is so drunk I don’t think he even realizes what he’s doing to me.
Fulton pipes up beside us. “Never have I ever…cheated on a test!” he announces enthusiastically.
“Really, Fulton? You’ve never cheated on a test?” Bristol inquires, languorously swishing his drink around in his hands.
Did I mention that Fulton is definitely not dressed like an apple? He’s dressed in a pressed button-up, suspenders, and square-framed glasses.
“And jeopardize my chance of getting into a good college? God no.” He shudders, committing to the nerd bit by pushing his glasses up higher on the bridge of his nose.
Every single person drinks, including me. When I was spending sleepless nights working shifts at the restaurant, I didn’t have time to study for tests. This will probably be the only time I drink during the entire game.
I’m just realizing now how…abnormal…my adolescent years have been. I didn’t get to live like a regular teenager and make the occasional reckless decision.
Gage chuckles at his friend’s ridiculousness, having switched from periodically squeezing my shoulder to tracing patterns on my arm with his fingers. There’s nothing inherently sexual about touching someone’s arm, but I nearly moan.
Bristol—who’s rocking eye black and a football jersey—goes next, cataloguing the bored state of the players and obviously cooking up something troublesome in his head. “Never have I ever…had sex in public,”
he declares, holding his solo cup up to cheers with our side of the room.
“That includes oral.”
Multiple groans peal throughout the space, and I watch as Faye drinks her ginger ale, Kit drinks, Aeris and Hayes drink, and of course, Gage drinks.
I glare at him, a growl rumbling in my chest. I thought this game was supposed to be fun. In fact, this is so unfun that I’d rather take my chances in the very unsafe mosh pit that’s formed over by the sound system.
Gage’s dilated pupils bore into me, and the stupidest smirk ticks up his lips. “Spitfire, are you jealous?”
“Of course not!” I huff, crossing my arms over my chest and pouting like a petulant child. Nobody’s focused on us, thank God, as they continue on with the game I’ve lost interest in.
“Are you sure?” he drawls, nipping playfully at my earlobe. “I wouldn’t blame you. I know I’m irresistible.”
“You’re irritating.”
“You’re fucking hot when you’re mad, you know that?” The lushness of Gage’s lips suddenly hardens into a bite, and he pulls on my lobe slightly with his teeth. “Even hotter when you’re jealous.”
I want to shove him away and give him a complementary slap, but I love the feel of his mouth on my ear. My back arches against the sofa, and I have to remind myself that we’re in public, and that my resolve is stronger than this.
Faye’s airy voice saves me from my own destructive tendencies. “Never have I ever…played hockey.”
The entire team drinks, and Faye and Aeris share a smile with each other. I think Fulton drinks for the first time tonight, and I’m glad I’m not the only sheltered person here.
I need to drink. I’m not drunk enough to be here right now, to pretend like Gage isn’t singlehandedly ripping out the nails of the boarded-up enclosure keeping my sex-hungry beast at bay.
Josie takes her turn, wearing the same skeletal makeup as Casen, except she’s in a miniature black dress as opposed to his full leather outfit. “Never have I ever…given someone a lap dance.”
Fucking finally.
Surprisingly, Kit downs his drink. I almost don’t want to know.
I have over half of my beer still left, and the minute the rim touches my lips, I chug the entire thing. I begin to regret it when the alcohol plops into my stomach like expired milk, but I soldier through until there’s nothing left.
Gage stares at me. Everyone stares at me.
“You gave someone a lap dance?” he exclaims, jealousy lining his tone, a muscle in his jaw bunching with enough strain to crack enamel.
Correction: I gave Hadley a lap dance, but he doesn’t need to know that.
“I guess we’re both full of surprises,” I mutter, standing up and making my way to the kitchen to refill my cup.
Gage tails after me, grabbing me by the elbow and spinning me around to face him, the full extent of his rage unleashed in the fiery depths of his eyes.
“Who did you give a lap dance to, Cali?”
Anger spars for dominance over my features. “Who did you have sex with in public, Gage?”
He expels a guttural growl, not bothering to hide how infuriated he is with me, the hockey-hardened muscles in his biceps flexing. “I’m not going to ask you again.”
“Maybe it’s none of your business,” I snarl, turning on my heel so my hair goes flying in his face.
I try to lose him in the crowd, but he’s on my trail like a fucking bloodhound. I’m mad, but I think this is a first when I say that Gage is even madder. If he was a cartoon, he’d have smoke coming out of his ears and nostrils. His face is already as bright red as a fire engine.
“It is my fucking business.” He drags me into a vacant hallway and pushes me up against the wall, his arms bracketing me on both sides. His shoulders are hunched, his neck strains only slightly to look down at me, and the hard planes of his stomach are just inches from my body.
I don’t cower. I don’t shrink. I push my chest out and match his iron glare. “No, it’s not. We’re not together.”
“Yeah, you keep reminding me, and it kills me each time you say it.”
“I wouldn’t have to keep saying it if you’d just get it through your thick skull!”
There’s a glitch in his expression, revealing the hurt lingering just below his tough-guy surface. “You’re so hot and cold with me, Cali. One second everything is good between us, and the next you want to pick a fight with me. What the fuck is going on?” he snaps, the smallest grain of desperation lodged in his voice.
“Nothing’s going on!” I yell, fruitlessly trying to squirm past his boulder-sized body.
“Then why did you get jealous back there?”
“I didn’t! You were the one who got jealous!”
Gage closes the remaining distance between us, the warmth from his figure and the dizzying scent of his cologne making my belly woozy.
“Yeah, I did. You’re mine, Calista. Do you understand that? The thought of sharing you with anyone, even when I wasn’t in your life, drives me fucking crazy. The thought of you touching another man—the thought of him touching you—makes me so angry that I can’t think straight. It makes me want to track that fucker to the ends of the earth and shove my hockey stick down his throat.”
If it wasn’t for the confusion skyrocketing inside me, I would’ve been immobilized by Gage’s confession. Even though he’s been drinking, his
frustration must’ve sobered him up. He doesn’t have that dazed, faraway look in his eyes anymore; his irises are portals created to devour me whole.
I soften and reach out to touch his arm, unsure if I’ll be met with resistance. “Gage…”
“What are you so afraid of, Cali?” he whispers in a defeated breath, gently guiding my outstretched hand to rest on his bicep.
So much. I’m afraid of so much.
I try to quash the overflow of tears in my eyes, try to clear the way my vision tunnels, but none of my efforts seem to be working. Everything I’ve suppressed for these past few weeks is done being condemned to the darkest depths of my soul. My emotions are crawling up the dungeon walls in strides, determined to regain their freedom, but I’m not about to let them escape and wreak havoc in the world.
“I’m not afraid of anything. I just need to focus on my family. There’s no room for love in my life right now.”
“You mean there’s no room for me in your life right now,” Gage corrects.
That’s not true! my heart wants to yell, but it’s my head that makes the ultimate decision.
“Friends with benefits is all we’ll ever be. I can’t keep living in this fantasy world with you when my real world needs me—when my family needs me.”
“You said that we could pretend tonight. That we could pretend to be something more. I’m not asking for a lot, Cali. I’m just asking for you to imagine a life where you could have everything you want. A life where you didn’t have to choose between your happiness and the happiness of others.”
That was what Gage asked for—something deliverable and doable—
and I failed to keep my end of the promise. Even if I wanted to come clean with the truth about me falling for him, I don’t think I could bring myself to do it. Am I scared of consolidating all my efforts on a relationship that might not even last? Of course I am. Am I scared that this relationship could completely knock my family out of the picture? Fuck yes.
And no amount of play pretend will bury those fears.
When silence is all I can offer, Gage is quick to amend it.
“Please, Cali. You may have stopped fighting, but I haven’t.”
How long are you going to keep this up, Cali? How long are you going to push him away until he never wants to come back? It’s either my family
or him, and the scales are so close in weight that the right choice isn’t clear anymore.
Moisture sticks to my lower lashes like dewdrops, and I self-consciously bite my bottom lip to stop it from its habitual tremble. I don’t know what to say. This is killing me inside, and Gage probably doesn’t even realize it. Guilt tangles around my limbs in black tendrils, curved thorns scarring flesh and tissue and tendon, severing the picture-perfect front I’ve been trying to upkeep.
“I…”
I want to run away from this night. I want to run out of the door right now and never look back. But even if I did, I know that Gage would be right behind me.
Gage suddenly registers the hurt on my face, and he caresses my cheek, softly brushing his thumb over the dark shadows under my eyes. “Cali, I’m sorry. I’m just…I’m selfish. I don’t want this to end. I don’t want to return to a life where I don’t know you. I’ve foolishly been thinking that if you let me in, I can have you all to myself. But it’s destroying you, and that’s the last thing I’d ever want to do to you.”
I keep my head lowered, using my hair to curtain my face. “I just need a moment to breathe.”
I don’t lean into his hand. I don’t look at Gage. I’m falling apart like a poorly built sandcastle crumbling under its own weight.
Even though Gage is great at giving me what I want, this time he doesn’t. He says fuck it and brings me into his body, encasing my frame in his arms and soaking up the chill of my skin with the heat of his own.
“Breathe, baby. Please breathe,” he coos, rubbing the back of my head.
“I’m sorry I pushed you to make a decision. I’m sorry that I set up this fucked-up ultimatum of me over your family. That was never my intention.
I know you have a responsibility to your family. I just…I wanted to show you that you can have it all. You can balance that responsibility and balance your own life. You can live for others while still living for yourself.”
My fingernails gouge into his bare back like I never want to let go.
“How am I supposed to do that?” I muffle into his shoulder.
“I don’t know, but I’m willing to help you figure it out. I’m willing to do whatever it takes.”
SHE LOVES ME, SHE LOVES ME NOT
GAGE
This wasn’t how the night was supposed to go, but like always, I have a tendency to fuck up all the good things in my life. And right in front of me is the best thing that’s ever happened to me.
I have to remind myself that this girl isn’t just some figment of my imagination—that she’s the greatest blessing I could’ve ever received on this planet. That no human could’ve been conceived to be this perfect. That she must be some higher deity who’s given her hair color to California’s sunsets; that the constellations must’ve borrowed the formation of her freckles for their beauty; and that the ocean could never possibly rival the blue of her eyes.
Cali murmurs something unintelligible, a new layer of wetness signaling that her tears must have finally fallen and found purchase on my upper back. With our lack of clothing, I can feel the pummeling of her heart. I can hear it in the vacuum-seal of space we’re in, and it’s cathartic.
“My head and my heart want two different things,” Cali burbles, the clarity of her words obstructed by thickening saliva and sporadic sniffles.
We disentangle from each other, and the moment I see my girl’s gorgeous face, my heart sings for her attention, her touch, her love. Goops of mascara streak down her cheeks, and her red eyes suffer from burst capillaries. But despite the struggle on her face, I’ve never seen her look more beautiful. Raw.
“Which one is more important to you?” I dab at the leftover tears blemishing her pale complexion.
“I think…I think it’s my heart.”
To see Cali so numb, so drained—it cracks a fissure deep in my sternum, one close to splitting my heart at the seam. I want to be there for her, to prove to her that I’m not going anywhere, but I fear that her self-preservation instincts will keep me far away.
What are you supposed to do when you want to take care of someone who’s too afraid to let you?
“Then maybe you should listen to your heart.”
“But my heart’s selfish.”
“Humans are selfish by nature. That’s just a part of life, Spitfire. And I know you probably won’t believe me, but you’re the least selfish person I know,” I tell her, unable to tear my palm from the curve of her tear-softened cheek, anguish curdling in my stomach.
She bears desolation in the hard lines of her face, and it’s like I’m standing idly by as her inner light begins to dim, eclipsing her in perpetual darkness. Everything seems duller—her hair, her eyes, her posture.
She doesn’t say anything. She doesn’t look up at me. Her eyes are downcast, finding interest in the smears of dirt that begrime the hallway floor.
“Calista.” I use a knuckle to tip her chin up so she finally looks at me, and immediately, affection twins with something deeper in my heart, leaving it in a state of disarray. “It’s okay to put yourself first. It’s okay to dream and want. It’s okay to be selfish if you’ve been selfless for so long.
But if you never go after what you want, you’ll never allow yourself the chance at a better life. The chance at a happier life.”
“I don’t want to let anyone down,” she wails.
“At this point, I think the only person you’re letting down is yourself.
You play one of the most important roles in this whole equation. If you’re not taking care of yourself, then everything else falls to chaos. You’re the glue that holds your family together.”
Cali wraps her arms around her midsection, salty water refilling her eyes, distorting the darker blue rings of her irises. “I’m so tired of being the glue. I don’t want to be the glue for the rest of my life.”
“I know, baby. And you won’t be. Your mom’s going to be alright; you’ve done everything you can for her. And Teague will find his footing as
he grows older,” I tell her, catching those sickle-shaped droplets as they begin to drip down. “And as for us, even though there isn’t really an ‘us,’
I’m not going anywhere. I’m here to show you that none of this works without you prioritizing your own happiness.”
Saying all these things to Cali—things that sound a lot wiser than I would’ve ever assumed myself capable of being—makes me realize that hockey isn’t my only purpose. After Trip, I was certain it was. Hell, I was so determined to get back on the ice after my injury that I went out of my way to take dance lessons and do physical therapy.
My purpose might’ve been hockey, but that all changed the moment I saw Cali. The moment she cussed me out and threatened me in front of half the local hockey community. The moment I realized that this girl has a hold on me unlike any other, and that even if she decides to let me go, I’ll run right back to her.
Everything is second when it comes to Cali.
“Thank you, Gage. I just…I think I need some more time before I’m ready to invest in a relationship. I’m sorry.”
She’s considering it.
And even though it’s not the answer I would’ve liked, I’m more than happy to wait. “You don’t need to be sorry, Cali. I’m a patient man.”
“I really don’t deserve you,” she cries, flinging herself into my body and knocking me backward with the force, her small arms latched around my torso.
I bark out a chuckle. “I’m the one who doesn’t deserve you.”
She rears back in confusion. “What?”
My heart begins to hiccup, everything else coming to a standstill except for her. She’s a lightning strike in a chasm of deep onyx, beautiful to look at but dangerous to touch up close. Dangerous yet alluring. A once-in-a-lifetime kind of phenomenon.
“After all this time, you still don’t understand what you mean to me, do you?”
Cali blinks at me with those doe eyes of hers.
I take her hand and rest it over my heart, feeling it speed up drastically.
I’m convinced my heart could distinguish her touch even if I lost my eyesight.
“My heart’s always this fucked up when you’re around. You make me so goddamn crazy that I can never think straight when it comes to you.
You’re just…you’re perfect. So insanely perfect that you should come with a warning label.”
I want to say those three words. I want to say them so badly. I know she’s not ready to hear them, but the feelings I have for her will never change. Maybe it’s too early. Maybe this is all infatuation. Maybe I’m just a young idiot who’s fallen completely head over heels. I don’t care what it is.
All I care about is clinging to this emotion for as long as I can.
She spares me a smile just bordering on toothy benevolence, and slowly, the light begins to rekindle inside her. “You can be really sweet when you aren’t being an ass,” she admits humorously.
Her hand drops from my chest, giving my poor heart a reprieve, and I bring her body closer to mine, my hands roving over the curve of her spine and the small dimples resting just above her butt. “See? I’m a changed man because of you.”
“I wouldn’t be so sure about that.”
“Oh, really?”
Cali lowers my hands until I grasp the bottom of her ass—which is more than bare and cheeky thanks to her scrap of a thong. “You’re still a dog, Gage Arlington,” she drawls in an erotic whisper, her breath mangling when I knead the plentiful fat there.
“Then fucking chain me up, Spitfire.”
For the first time, she’s the one who initiates the kiss, servicing every Cali-starved crevice of my body, her tongue rolling over mine in a slow, deliberate stroke. My fingers squeeze her ass cheeks so tightly that I’m a hundred percent certain I’m going to leave a red handprint behind. I groan into her mouth, feeling my erection harden like granite, and I’m gonna give myself two minutes before I tear through this flimsy costume and flash everyone in the nearby vicinity.
When she takes my bottom lip between her teeth, a cocktail of desire and oxytocin mixes with the unwise decision of a few too many drinks in my stomach.
“Cali, we can’t do this here.”
“You’re right,” she purrs. “We haven’t even danced yet.”
I freeze as the aridity in my mouth grows. “Wha —”
I don’t even have time to construct a robust response before the lyric-less EDM music over the speakers changes into a pop anthem. The tempo has sped up, and thanks to numerous car rides with Fulton torturing me with
hits from the 2000s, I immediately recognize the beginning notes of Britney Spears’ “I’m a Slave 4 U.” A giddy grin seizes Cali’s face, and before I can protest, she pulls me onto the dance floor.
The blood in my ears, however, overpowers my sensibility to evacuate the scene as quickly as possible. Remember when I said dancing was easy?
I was wrong. So wrong. It’s harder than anything I’ve ever done before.
With lips full of innuendo and an arresting sway of her hips, she’s dancing in front of me, her plunging cleavage mashing against my chest thanks to the leverage of her heels. My hands settle on her butt as my fingers brush against the thin strip of fabric getting swallowed by her ass cheeks. It’d be so easy to slide these off her right now without anyone noticing, and the access makes heat swelter in my fattening cock.
I’ve never met a girl who can move like Cali, and I’m cherishing every fucking second of this dance. And then, as if she can sense just how insanely hungry my erection is for the slightest attention, she spins around so her back is flush with my chest.
Holy fuck.
She guides my arms to her waist, rolling her body in time to the music.
Her hips move back and forth in a sultry way that makes me grip her curves even harder, and her butt jiggles each time it grinds against my dick.
This was a bad idea, Gage. A terrible idea! But also a really good one.
She’s throwing her hair all over the place, placing my clammy hands on her sweaty tits, dancing with the skill and sensuality of a stripper. My cock is doing everything in its power to refrain from slamming inside her.
Three’s a crowd, dude.
Pleasure sparks like tinder in the bottom of my stomach, making it hard to concentrate. Cali is still jiggling her butt carelessly, her silhouette backlit by a pulse of strobe lights. She’s touching me in all the right places, notching her crack with my boner, undulating her hips to build a friction so delicious that it stings.
She seems blissfully unaware of what she’s doing to me, and that makes it hurt even more. I’ve never felt anything like this before—this craving to taste every inch of her until I overdose. I want to fuck her. No, I need to fuck her.
My fingers grip Cali’s hips harshly, enough to leave raised scratches on the squishable meat there. I lean into her ear breathlessly, my voice dropping an octave from the pain currently shackling me. “Calista. ”
“You’re playing with me.”
Instead of letting me rest peacefully in the bed I’ve made, she moves one of my hands to her ivy-hidden center, arching just slightly against my crotch. “I thought you liked it when I played with you,” she purrs.
Shit, shit, shit! Keep it together, man!
The only reason I’m okay with what’s happening right now is because the dance floor is pretty congested, and it’s way too noisy for anyone to overhear our conversation.
My chest bloats with a low, animalistic growl, and my desire metamorphosizes into a bloodlust that’s far from human. “Baby, I fucking love it when you play with me. But if you keep moving like that, you’re going to be the first girl I bend over in the middle of a party. Is that what you want?”
I keep my hand over her pussy, feeling the heat seep into my palm. My other hand is on a mission to fondle her overspilling boob, and if I wasn’t already fighting off a full-body fever, the warmth of pre-cum wetting the material of my costume makes my life that much harder.
I’m not going to last the rest of the night if she keeps teasing me like this.
“You want to fuck my pretty pussy, Gage?” she taunts quietly, inching my hand just a little farther south, where my fingers catch on the hood of her clit. I’m so close I can practically feel the wetness secreting from her swollen lips.
A nasally whine hisses out through my nostrils, and my dick’s in so much pain that it hurts to move, let alone imagine the tireless trek upstairs while I clench to prevent from coming everywhere. “Want it so bad, Spitfire. Want to impale you on my giant cock and milk that sweet cunt until there’s nothing left in you.”
She continues to gyrate against me effortlessly, and I have to pretend like I’m not desperately sucking in air just to keep up with her. Her hand then intertwines with mine, and she extends her arm up, letting me spin her around—and also letting the cramped bodies nearby get a look at my glaringly obvious boner.
And when she stops right in front of me, she licks her lips. “Then fucking do it. ”
FORGIVE ME, FATHER, FOR I HAVE