"Him and a million different other things," Sofie admits. She throws herself down on the couch in the living room, not bothering to move what looks like an entire semester's worth of Biology notes. "I had an exam this week, and then Greg showed up with roses demanding his date again, and it's just like—"
Suddenly, Sofie stops talking, shuts her mouth and begins to blush.
"What's wrong," I say, sitting down on the arm of the couch.
"I'm stress-babbling," she giggles. "Sorry. Everything's just been a lot lately, and I got so excited to see you, and—"
She looks so damn sweet like this. She's wearing these tiny little terry cloth shorts, a Colombia t-shirt, thigh high socks and—if I'm not mistaken—a scrunchie in her hair. This isn't the ultra-fox that I remember from our date. It's something even better.
Sofie Carson in her natural environment. What a thing to behold.
"God, I did it again! Forgive me," she says, burying her face in her hands. "I think I just didn't expect to see you again."
"It's been a week," I laugh. "And you're not exactly a forgettable woman, I'm afraid."
"I'm glad." Sofie licks her lips as she moves her hands away from her face, and my heart skips a fucking beat.
"Do you want the honest truth?" I ask.
"Always."
"I was waiting for you to come to me. I hate chasing down women—makes me feel like a predator," I admit. Then, smooth guy I am, I toss her the book. "But apparently, you're my kind of prey."
Sofie studies the book with an intensity that I recognize well. It's the same look I've seen on my own face in pictures. So focused that the rest of the world washes away. It's incredible to see that look reflected on a face as beautiful as hers. This girl is really something else.
"The Wasp That Brainwashed the Caterpillar," Sofie reads off the cover. "Evolution's Most Unbelievable Solutions to Life's Biggest Problems. Is this for me?"
"It's interesting, I swear," I say, preparing to reassure her that I didn't just gift her the most boring textbook ever. But to my surprise, Sofie flips open the front cover and starts digging in.
"I believe you," she giggles. "Maybe evolution can solve my Greg problem. What do you think?"
"I think no woman in her right mind would breed with that glorified Cro-Magnon anyway," I chuckle. "I'm still not sure how he managed to land you in the first place."
Sofie rolls her eyes like she's cursing her past self and I don't blame her. If you were to rank all the shady dudes of history, Greg would land somewhere between Jack the Ripper and Kevin Spacey.
"I used to be a fucking idiot, is how," Sofie confesses. "I didn't have the most money growing up, you know? When I met Chloe, she whisked me off into this magical world and me, being a dumbass…"
"You're not a dumbass," I reassure her. Because she's not. From what I know of Sofie Carson, dumbass is the furthest thing from the truth there is. "It's easy to get caught up in it all. Sometimes you feel like…"
"Like you don't really belong in their world," Sofie says, smiling softly.
"Something like that, yeah," I agree. "You just have to remember that the money doesn't make anyone any better than you, and it absolutely doesn't give them the right to walk all over you or demand whatever they want."
"God," Sofie moans. "Where were you when I met that asshole?"
"Waiting for a pretty co-ed with a Bio major to put herself up for auction, I guess." I bite my lip, studying her face carefully. "If I would've gotten to you first, that idiot's face would be caved in by now."
"Hey, I'm not stopping you," Sofie says. "Wanna open the wine? I have this documentary series, Planet Earth, on Blu-ray, and Chloe won't watch it with me, but maybe you…"
Sofie reaches for the bottle and I pull it away just in time, catching her wrist in my hand instead.
"Actually," I tell her. Our bodies are close now, and I can feel the warmth radiating off her skin. "I think you've been a little too busy lately."
"Have I?"
"You have. Too much studying. It'll melt your brain. And besides…" I make a big show of sniffing the air. "Smells like Greg in here."
Sofie sniffs the air too. I'm close enough, I can see the way her nostrils twitch. Like a bunny rabbit's nose when it's near fresh grass. Unbearably adorable. It makes me want to kiss her. But if I kiss her, we'll be in this Greg-infested apartment all night.
"You know," Sofie says with a mischievous little smile. "I think you're right. Your place?"
"Thought you'd never ask."
I stand and pull her up with me. Her mouth is so damn close to mine that it's going to drive me insane if I don't kiss her right now. So I do. Just a little kiss. Sweet. Charming. Soft.
But then a little kiss turns into a bigger one, and then our tongues collide, and she smells so fucking good—
"Do I need to, uh…change?" When Sofie's lips move, they brush against mine. Like butterfly kisses. The look in her eyes is one of absolute longing.
It's a look that says ‘we could have a lot of fun right now if I took my clothes off.’
But no. Sofie's been through a roller coaster of emotions this week, and there's something special about her that makes me want to treat her right outside of bed before I get her back into one.
"You look cute as is," I reassure her. "You just need to come with me."
Sofie
“A beach house,” I say in disbelief, effectively picking my jaw up off the floor of Oliver’s lightning yellow Ferrari. “No fucking way.”
“Don’t look so surprised.” Oliver hops out and jogs around the slide to open the door for me. “You know well enough by now the way rich men are. If there’s something they can throw money at, they’ll toss stacks of it.”
“Which is how you ended up on a date with me in the first place.”
“Further proof that it’s an excellent idea.”
Oliver offers me his hand and I take it. For the first time, I have a chance to really focus on the details of him.
It’s impressive how much you don’t notice when there are three men all over you, distracting you with their presence and overwhelming you with their touch. For example, Oliver has a rough, raised scar on the back of one hand, starting at the web between his thumb and index finger and moving towards his wrist.
“What’s this?” I ask as he leads me up the driveway.
“Ah.” Oliver laughs briefly. “That’s ancient. You’ve heard the saying curiosity killed the cat?”
“And satisfaction brought him back,” I reply, finishing the saying.
“I wouldn’t call it satisfaction, exactly. I was a dumb kid. Clever, but dumb. Always a deadly combination.” Oliver’s green eyes sparkle mischievously as he slips a key out of his pocket an into the lock on the door. “Read too many comic books. Minor Chemistry mishap. It’s hideous, I know.”
I giggle and raise my elbow up to his eye level.
“Hot glue gun accident,” I say, pointing to the raised welt that still lingers where I put my elbow down on the glue gun’s metal tip.
“Yikes. Were you trying to give yourself super powers too?”
“Strictly arts and crafts, I’m afraid.”
Oliver’s hand finds the small of my back as he guides me into the house. It’s huge. More of a beach mansion, really. Modern and flashy, just the way he seems to like it. And, as a result, super fucking cool.
In the living room alone, I spy a massive television that overlooks the biggest, most plush-looking white couches in the universe, a hologram fireplace and a bar that looks like it could serve an entire house party.
“Whoa,” I say, running my hand through the digitally projected flames of the fire. “This is easily the coolest thing I’ve seen all month.”
“Lucas and Eli need to step up their games, then,” Oliver says with a smug smile. “Here, look.”
He pulls out his phone and moves his thumb across its screen. I watch in awe as the flames of the fire change from realistic looking to pink, then purple,
then blue, then green.
“You’re a wizard,” I accuse, narrowing my eyes at him as I grin.
“Something like that. Come on, though.” He reclaims my hand, pulling it out of the fire and back into his big, firm grip once again. “I want to show you the rest of the house.”
“Really? It’s so big…we’ll be here all day if you give me the grand tour.”
“And all night too, if I can manage it,” he says with a wink. “That’s fair, though…for now, I’ll stick to the highlights.”
The highlights, apparently, include a pool table settled in the middle of a hot tub and a wall-sized fish tank with bright, tropical fish contained within. The glass is pleasantly warm to the touch when I place my hand against it. A little orange-and-white striped fish swims beneath my fingers on the other side of the glass.
“You found Nemo,” Oliver whispers in my ear, coming up behind me.
“Please don’t tell me that’s his name,” I giggle, watching the little fish swim off.
Oliver shrugs, tugging me down the hall.
“Then I won’t, but that doesn’t change anything.”
When he gets me to the doorway of the next room, I pull him into it before he flips on the light.
Oliver stumbles forward ever so slightly. His arms wrap around me as he comes to a stop.
“Sofie,” he purrs in my ear. “How forward of you.”
I wrinkle my nose up in delight as I try to make out the shape of his face in the dark.
“I’m a very forward girl,” I admit, because I am.
Then I kiss him, before he can distract me with more obscenely cool shit. Like a robot that makes margaritas or a different robot that makes cosmopolitans.
What? Don’t tell me you honestly think Oliver is the kind of guy who doesn’t own a robot.
Oliver kisses gently at first. Ever the gentleman, his kisses come with little hesitations. Moments when he allows me to pull away if I want to. Moments when I can tell him no. Or stop. Or any of the other words that would leave him making a gentlemanly exit from my embrace.
But I don’t want it to stop. I would kiss this man until I ran out of breath completely if I could.
Oliver is warm. His skin feels so fucking right beneath my fingertips. I can feel the crisp linen of his shirt beneath my palms. The red silk of his tie. I can smell his cologne: spicy and bright, with just a hint of leather.
I could devour this man. Hell, maybe later I will.
“Fuck me,” I moan against his lips.
I can feel him smile as he kisses me at the sound of that request.
“I’d love to,” he admits. “But…later.”
My lips dip into a pout as he flips on the lights.
We’re standing in what must be the guest room. I say what must be because it’s nicer than most master bedrooms—it’s just not in the right part of the house. I can see a big, gorgeous private bathroom just through one door, and a walk-in closet on the other.
“What if I want it now?” I ask him, my eyes glinting with need.
“Then you’ll just have to fucking wait.” Oliver smacks my ass, pulling me against him for another delicious kiss. “I told you I was going to help you de-stress—”
“An orgasm would help immensely in that regard.”
“And you’ll have one,” Oliver agrees. “But first, I’m going to show you the pool area.”
“It’s a little cold for a dip,” I say, wrapping my arms around my body and hugging myself at the thought.
“My pool isn’t,” Oliver reassures me. He turns my body beneath his hands, pointing me at the walk-in closet. “Step on in. Grab a suit.”
Warily, I walk forward. There’s a light switch on the inside on the closet, and when I flip it on, the whole fucking place lights up.
Swimsuits. Designer brands, at a glance. Pretty much wall-to-wall. All back-lit by soft, flattering lighting.
“What the hell are you doing with this many expensive swimsuits, Oliver?” I ask with an accusatory giggle.
“My sister works for Sports Illustrated,” Oliver says with a charming smile as he rubs the back of his neck. “Despite what it looks like, they just like to use my pool area for photo shoots from time to time. And if it means when I bring a beautiful girl over, she has plenty of bikini options to choose from…”
“Do you bring a lot of women here?” I tease. “I’m hurt, Oliver. I thought I was special.”
“You are,” Oliver reassures me. He dips his mouth to my shoulder, placing a warm kiss on my skin there. “You’ll see. Meet me outside when you’ve chosen.”
I turn my gaze back to the swimsuits. The rows and rows of gorgeous, worth-more-than-I-am swimsuits.
How the hell am I going to choose just one?
“And Sofie?” Oliver calls from the doorway. He’s already halfway out of it.
“Yes?”
“Be quick about it.”
He’s gone before I can ask why, but it fills my stomach with butterflies anyway.
I don’t know what he has planned for me, I just know that I can’t fucking wait to discover it.
A few minutes later, I finally emerge from the house, clad in a stunning silver bikini. It would look trashy if it wasn’t made from the finest materials the fashion world has to offer, or if it wasn’t cut like a fucking dream.
But it is, and I look hot as hell in it.
Not quite as steamy as Oliver’s pool area looks, however.
There’s fog rolling off the water where it meets the cool air and red lighting beneath the surface, giving the entire pool a gorgeous crimson glow. A waterfall tumbles down on one side, and on the other, I can just barely hear the crashing of the ocean against the beach as the sun sets on the horizon.
“Holy fuck,” I breathe.
“Funny. I was just thinking the same thing.”
I look over to locate Oliver by the sound of his voice. He’s standing off to one side, hovering over a massage table with oil at hand.
“I know how hard it is to be a Bio major,” he says with a lopsided grin. Which tells me that I’ve got that quintessential stunned Sofie look on my face again. “So I thought I might give you a massage.”
“Let me guess,” I say, matching his smile. “You’d like to help me work out all my kinks?”
“Something like that,” Oliver says as I walk towards him. “But I’m going to pamper you first.”
Sofie
Lying here next to the pool and remembering the deep, penetrating lines drawn in my muscles by Oliver's strong fingers causes me to let out a little moan as I stretch and luxuriate in my newfound relaxation on the massage table. I knew I was stressed, but I didn't realize how stressed I was until Oliver's fingers found spasms and tense muscles I didn't even know I had.
Watching him walk, I wonder if he knows how good he makes me feel. As he strides past, I seize the opportunity and reach out, catching his waist band and pulling him in closer.
I look up at him adoringly as he moves toward me. He patiently watches and waits, not saying a word. I know that he is putty in my hands, yet I don’t feel like I am the one in control.
I could get away with anything right now, and I know exactly what I want to do.
When he reaches me, I pull myself up, lift his shirt, and plant little kisses on the toned, tanned skin of his abs. Oliver reaches down and rubs hands still covered in oil on my shoulders, the muscles still soft from his powerful ministrations.
I work my kisses lower and lower, pulling his waistband down to expose his red pubic hair. I marvel at this for a moment, and even in just that short hesitation, I can feel him tense up a bit more, sensing he is about to be teased. I slowly continue to pull his shorts down lower, allowing the waistband to drag down inch by inch as it frees his enormous cock.
Before I get the waistband past the head of his throbbing muscle, I can already feel it stiffening as his hot blood rushes into it. I continue to lower the waistband, and his now pulsing, hard cock springs out of his shorts,
flinging a small drop of precum on my face.
I smile as I wipe it off with my finger tip. Using the same finger, I tap the end of his man meat where a small pool of the precum is still there. Pulling my finger back, I press my thumb to it and pull the fingers apart again, exposing the strand of precum that drapes down between my fingertips.
I raise my fingers to my lips and run my tongue all around them, exaggeratingly licking up every last bit of the drop that was there.
Then I turn and look at his hard cock, now standing at full attention, saluting me. I take my hand— fingers now slick with a mix of my saliva and the thin layer of massage oil that is still there—and gently run the fingertips down the head of the cock and along the shaft.
As soon as my fingers make contact, it pulses and throbs and continues to do it as I work my hands up and down the massive shaft. Realizing there was just too much for one hand, I run my tongue along the palm of my left hand and add that to the mix.
I alternate between jerking my man off with both hands and using one to massage his balls. It has the desired effect. I can feel his breathe begin to quicken and his muscles begin to strain.
But no, I am not done with him yet.
I slow my efforts, but I tighten my grip as I continue to run my hands up and down his massive shaft, careful to let his pleasure build. He groans in ecstasy as I tease the tip, again tapping the drop of precum with my finger and pulling away from his cock to let it stretch out and dangle from my fingertip.
Having had my fun, I stick my tongue out and lick the drop of precum before I slowly slide my lips down his cock, taking as much of it in my mouth as I can. I cradle his balls with my hand, squeezing them gently and massaging them back and forth with my fingers as I leave his cock rubbing on the back of my throat.
Slowly, I move my head back, sucking and licking his cock as I release it from my mouth. Letting it come completely out of my mouth, I kiss the tip gently, teasing him more. Oliver's man meat responds by pulsing out toward me, as if his cock itself is trying to get back into my mouth.
I smile as I think to myself what a great idea that is. Reaching both hands around to his perfect ass, I grab tightly to each cheek and thrust forward his hips hard, his cock sliding easily down my throat.
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