Amongst The Wildflowers (Fleurs d'Amour Book 3)

by Amali Rose

  It takes a moment for me to wrap my head around what is happening, but as soon as I feel her pussy rubbing against my hardening cock my body acts on instinct.

  I wrap an arm around her waist, holding her tight to my body, and my other hand threads through her hair, tugging it harder than I had intended. She pulls back slightly and starts trailing kisses along my neck, chanting something over and over, but her voice is a muffled whisper and I can’t make out what she’s saying.

  Turning, I push her up against the lockers, pinning her with my hips, and I use both hands to cradle her face, searching her eyes in an attempt to figure out what’s going on inside that head of hers.

  Her face and neck are beautifully flushed, in a way that invites my mouth to taste her. To savor her.

  “I love you.”

  My eyes snap to hers, her breathless confession stunning me.

  “What?”

  “I love you. I love you, and I know you messed up, but I forgive you for that because I love you, and you love me. You spent fourteen years protecting me and loving me, and I couldn’t see that, I should have seen that, but I didn’t, and I know you left, but you never lied. Not ever, not once, so I believe you when you say you won’t do it again.” The words tumble out of her mouth, as though it can’t keep up with her brain and her chest heaves, drawing my eyes to her chest. Her spectacular chest.

  “Eyes up here, big boy.” She tilts my head up and away from her tits. “I tell you I love you and all you can do is stare at my boobs?”

  “They’re impressive tits.”

  “Ugh, way to ruin the mood.”

  She stretches up and her mouth meets mine, her tongue sneaking out and aggressively thrusting in. Her nails scratch along my back and my hips jerk up involuntarily in response.

  She breaks the kiss and unwraps her legs from my waist, planting her feet on the floor. My towel, which had come loose during our exchange and was only being held up by our bodies pressed together, falls to the ground and her eyes widen slightly at the sight of my cock standing straight up, straining toward her. It’s been a long week, and my hand is no match for her warm, wet, pussy, so it’s safe to say he’s happy to see her.

  She bites down on her bottom lip and if it was anyone else, that move would look calculating, but on her, it just looks sexy as fuck. My hands reach out to her, but she stops me. Using her own hands to press against my chest, she pushes me until the cold metal of the lockers is hard up against my back.

  “What are you doing, Bug?”

  She takes a step closer to me and I have to grab my dick and give it a tight squeeze to stop myself from coming from the look in her eye alone.

  She slowly sinks to her knees in front of me, reaching over and placing my discarded towel under them. As though realizing where she is, she lifts her head and looks around the brightly lit room before looking at me from under her lashes.

  “Don’t look at me, okay? Just close your eyes or something.”

  My hands land in her hair and I make sure she holds my gaze. “Baby, if your mouth is going to be wrapped around my cock, I’m going to be watching.”

  I can see the battle raging across her face, the struggle of what she wants versus her embarrassment at being on display.

  “I love you, Layla. You’re beautiful and I want nothing more than your mouth on me, but if you don’t want to, then that’s okay too.”

  I mean every word I say, but my dick twitches angrily against my stomach, and I have a feeling he may never forgive me if he doesn’t get inside her mouth soon.

  She holds my stare for a moment and then with an almost imperceptible nod, she leans forward until her mouth is barely an inch from my crown, and in a move that will be forever burnt into my memory, her tongue pokes out and swipes along the slit. Her eyes close and a soft sigh escapes as the precum hits her tongue. The pornographic visual has my head falling backward, noisily, against the lockers.

  “Are you okay?”

  “I am so much better than okay.” I grin down at her. “Don’t stop on my account.”

  She licks her full, pink lips, and without further ado wraps her mouth around the head of my cock, sucking lightly while her hand comes up to hold my shaft, jerking cautiously.

  I reach down and cover her hand with my own, squeezing it tight on every downstroke.

  “Harder, Lay, you don’t need to be so gentle.”

  She peeks up at me and nods, her mouth still full of my cock and I groan loudly at the sight.

  I remove my hand and she continues the firm strokes while slowly taking more of me in her mouth. It doesn’t take long before she grows more confident and her head bobs over my cock, coating it in saliva, and her tongue starts to tease along that sensitive spot at the base of my head. She finds her rhythm, her mouth and hand working in tandem, and when I look down to see her other hand slipping inside her leggings, and I feel her moan vibrate along my dick, the pressure becomes too much, and I rasp out a warning that I’m about to come.

  She hollows out her cheeks and sucks even harder. My hands tighten in her hair, and I hold her immobile while the orgasm bursts through me, so fucking intense my knees almost give out.

  When my vision returns to normal, I glance down and see her looking up at me, her eyes a watery mess, and I notice her hands grasping my thighs, nails digging in. Quickly pulling back, my dick pops out of her mouth and she sucks in a deep breath, wiping her chin.

  I instantly regret getting so carried away, and I tug her up to her feet, pulling her into me. “Are you okay?” I shake my head. “I didn’t mean to… that was just…” I trail off, no idea how to finish that sentence.

  She smirks up at me, her expression a far cry from the insecure-plagued one I faced twenty minutes ago.

  “I’m good.”

  “Yeah, you fucking are.” I laugh. “I swear to God, I don’t ever want to know where you learned to do that, but I’ll be forever grateful.”

  “Aw, Millhouse, I learned how to do that the same way every good girl does.” She waggles her eyebrows at me. “Thank God for Cosmo!”

  ME: You having fun?

  LAYLA: I’m trying to, stop bothering me!

  ME: Can I come by your room tonight?

  LAYLA: Evie will be there.

  ME: No dirty business, just to sleep, I promise.

  LAYLA: Yeah, okay. I’ll let you know when I’m home.

  ME: Good. I love you.

  LAYLA: Love you too xox <3

  I smile stupidly while reading her messages. The last few weeks have been pretty damn incredible, and I’m almost grateful to Cassidy for forcing Layla to figure her shit out. Because as good as I thought things were before Thanksgiving, now that she’s finally all in, it’s so much better.

  “Get off your phone, you pussy-whipped mofo.” Seth shoulders me out of the way. “It’s your shot.”

  I pick up the pool cue and walk around the table, trying to pick my next shot. “Did Mia tell you where they were going?”

  “No.” He huffs. “She said if she told me, I’d turn up and crash their girls’ night.” I raise a knowing eyebrow. “Yeah, okay,” he mutters.

  “Guess I’m not the only pussy-whipped mofo, huh?”

  “Shut up and take your shot, man.” I laugh at his pissy expression, but I can’t deny I’m right there with him. The girls decided they needed a night out before we all head home for the Christmas break, and no amount of arguing could convince them otherwise.

  We finish our game and are just about to call it a night when a few of the guys from the football team turn up and convince us to stay for a few more drinks.

  An hour and three beers later, the guys erupt in loud cheers when a group of girls walk in. My eyes immediately run over the crowd, searching for Layla and I’m disappointed when I don’t find her. I check my phone to see if she’s home yet, but when I come up empty, pocket it and return my attention to my friends.

  “Well, hello boys.” My lip curls up at the sound of Tash’s voice and whe
n she appears in front of us, her hands full of shots, I do my best to disguise my antipathy.

  “Shot time, guys. Drink up, there’s plenty more where they come from.” She places them on the table in front of us and winks. While my friends whoop it up and down their drinks, I watch as she walks away, an exaggerated sway to her less-than-ample ass.

  With a shake of my head, I lift the glass to my lips and swallow the shot in one gulp, grimacing against the burn.

  I look up just in time to see Tash eyeing me with a sly look, so in an effort to ignore her, I grab another shot from the table in front of us. Throwing it back, I replace the glass upside down, and join the cries of “Shots!” echoing around the room.

  Layla

  “I can’t believe I let you talk me into that.” Evie rolls her neck, grimacing.

  I choke on a laugh as I suck down water from my bottle. “You’ll thank me for it later, I promise.”

  “You said that two hours ago,” she groans.

  “C’mon, let’s go grab some breakfast, some greasy bacon will make you feel better.” I take hold of her hand and tug her toward the cafe I know is only a couple of doors down from the gym.

  The streets are unusually empty this morning. I guess everyone is recovering from their Friday night the same way Evie wishes she was – in bed, fast asleep.

  Pushing our way into the small, cozy cafe, we’re slapped in the face with the delicious aroma of sizzling bacon and brewing coffee and Evie groans orgasmically behind me.

  While the streets outside were empty, inside, the almost-full bistro is filled with the warm hum of conversation. Grabbing one of the last available tables, we sink into the comfy padded chairs and Evie removes the sunglasses covering her tired eyes and glares at me.

  “You know, I have no idea how you’re sitting there all perky and awake, talking me into yoga at fuck o’clock in the morning.” She shakes her head in frustration. “Why are you not hungover like the rest of us?”

  “Because I didn’t drink as much as the rest of you,” I exclaim. Waving my index finger at her, I continue. “This is all self-inflicted, you’re not getting any sympathy from me.”

  The waitress chooses that moment to take our order, halting Evie’s protestations before they can even begin.

  “So, talking about self-inflicted pain, did you ever hear anything else from Ethan last night?”

  “Oh my God, no.” I laugh. “He could barely get a sentence out when I called him, I think the guys ended up having a huge night. I’m sure he’s home sleeping it off, and to be honest I don’t really want to be around his hungover butt until he’s feeling better.”

  “Hmph, I don’t blame you, boys are the biggest babies,” she scoffs.

  Our food arrives, and we spend the next hour lazily enjoying our meal and chatting about pointless, irrelevant things. When Evie excuses herself to use the bathroom, I pull out my phone and can’t hide my disappointment when there is no message notification. Consoling myself with the knowledge that Ethan will call when he’s up, I decide to check my social media and log onto my Instagram account.

  My mouth drops in horror as I scroll through my feed and see the same picture reposted over and over, the hashtags #whosbeenabadboy #weseeyou and #naughtynaughty swimming in front of my eyes.

  My finger flies over the screen, and my mind shuts down in self-preservation when I realize what account posted the original picture: @MillhouseMiller.

  The conversation I overheard in the library comes rushing back and I instinctively shake my head in denial. He hates Tash. Hates her. And he would never do this to me. Never.

  But as every one of my insecurities screams in my ear, I realize his undeniable betrayal is staring me in the face. In vibrant tecnicolor.

  “Hey, you wanna see a movie later? That new Mila Kunis one looks funny.” I hear Evie approach me from behind, but my mind is too sluggish to react.

  “Oh my God, what the actual fuck? Why are Ethan and Tash in bed together?” she screeches. “Wait, are they naked?!”

  I storm into our dorm room and silently start throwing clothes into a bag. Evie follows behind me, but while I am processing everything internally, she is raging.

  “I’m going to kill the fucker.” She holds up my laptop. “You want to take this?” I shake my head, wanting to eliminate as many points of contact as possible. “Okay, when will the Uber be here?”

  I check my phone. “It’s here.” I toss a handful of underwear into my bag and follow it with my phone, watching as it sinks to the bottom under a pile of cotton.

  We race down to the parking lot and when I spot the car waiting for me, I start to head in that direction. Evie grabs my arm, stopping me and pulling me into her, wrapping me in a giant hug.

  “Call me when you get home, okay? I know you’re in shock right now, Lay, but I need you to hear me. You need to stay in touch and let me know how you are going.” She loosens her grip and pulls back. “I don’t know what the fuck happened, but there has to be an explanation.” Her brow furrows in confusion. “This just doesn’t make any sense.”

  As much as I want to agree with her, it’s hard to argue with photographic evidence.

  Ethan

  I’m dying. I have to be dying, that can be the only reason my brain hurts so much. Flashes of last night start to come back to me. Shots. So many fucking shots. If I survive this, I swear to God I will never touch a drop of tequila again.

  I feel movement from the other side of the bed, and I delight in the knowledge that even pissed out of my mind I still managed to get Layla in bed with me. Ignoring the hammering in my head, I try to motivate myself to roll over, so I can get my hands on her when suddenly the banging is no longer coming from my head, but from the door to my bedroom.

  I groan loudly, my mouth trying to call out, begging whoever it is to stop, but my mouth feels like it’s full of cotton wool and I can’t seem to wrap it around any words.

  “Ethan! Get your ass out here you motherfucking asshole and bring the skank with you. I’m going to kill you both!”

  Mia’s voice penetrates my skull painfully, but it’s her reference to Layla as a skank that has me taking notice.

  “What the fuck, Mia?” I croak out. I attempt to sit up, ignoring the pain when the urgency in Mia’s voice sinks in.

  My hand reaches out to rest on Layla’s hip, but when it lands on a curve that is decidedly not Layla’s, I’m suddenly wide awake and painfully sober.

  “Mmmm.” The faux sleepy moan draws my attention to the face of the girl next to me, and my balls practically shrivel in horror when I realize it’s Tash lying beside me.

  Oh, fuck. My balls. I’m naked. And she’s naked. This is so fucking bad.

  “What the fuck, Tash?” I jump up off the bed and roar at her. “What are you doing here?” I look around my room, quickly spotting my boxers and throwing them on.

  The hammering on the door starts up again. “Ethan! Out here, now!”

  Tash grimaces humorously.

  “Eeek.”

  Yep, she actually said, eek. “It doesn’t sound like your friend is too happy about your upgrade, babe.”

  “What are you fucking doing in my bed, you crazy bitch?”

  She sits up, holding the sheet to her chest and looks at me like a wide-eyed innocent. “Well, that’s just mean. You were desperate to get me in your bed last night, and now you’re calling me names?”

  I shake my head manically. There’s no way in hell, drunk or not, that I would ever want her in my bed.

  “Ethan!”

  I storm over to my door and yank it open. “What?!” I yell.

  I never see the slap coming, but the sting of her hand certainly leaves its mark.

  “Asshole!”

  I step back, stunned at her aggression and look up to see Seth watching this shitshow with a somber expression on his face.

  “And you!” She stalks toward Tash, pointing at her angrily. “Get your ratchet ass out of that bed, throw your skanky clothes b
ack on and fuck off!”

  Tash looks stunned, turning her head between the two of us. I guess she’s looking to me for some backup, reassurance that she can stay. But there’s no way in hell she’s getting it.

  “You need to leave.”

  Her eyes narrow bitterly at the sound of my calm voice.

  “You’re an asshole, Ethan.” Mia throws her clothes and Tash starts dressing under the sheet.

  “I’m not the asshole in this situation. I don’t know what pathetic game you think you’re playing, but if you tell anyone about this, I’ll make sure everyone knows exactly how desperate you are.”

  Standing up, she grabs her shoes and purse from the floor, smirking at me. “It might be a bit late for that, baby.” And she struts out, as though this is an everyday occurrence for her.

  I scrub a hand over my face, relieved that she’s gone. Deciding coffee can only make this morning better, I turn to head for the kitchen and come face to face with Mia staring at me incredulously.

  “What? I didn’t touch her, Mia, so you can wipe that look off your face. Even if I had wanted to – which I didn’t – I was too wasted to do anything. This is just some bullshit kind of crazy that Tash is trying to pull.”

  “You need to see this.” Seth’s voice is abnormally serious, and he thrusts his phone in my face.

  “Fuuuuck.” My heart drops as I see picture after picture of Tash and myself, naked, on his Instagram feed.

  “Who the fuck posted that?” My voice is hard, the need to lash out filling me violently.

  “Who posted it?” Mia shrieks. “You fucking did!”

  My feet pound along the hallway and I almost fall on my ass as I come to a stop in front of Layla’s door. I thump on the door and pray she hasn’t seen the picture yet. I have a much better chance of explaining myself if she doesn’t have that visual in her head.