by D. Kelly
Holy shit.
If I look at her, I’m going to pull her onto my lap and fuck her until she’s screaming my name. I hate myself for not knowing how innocent Bexley truly is. To be friends with her, I had to let go of certain things. One of those things was a deep interest in her dating life.
In high school, we saw each other all the time, but it wasn’t like it is now. We were in the same co-ed dorm in college but on different floors. Between classes and work, we easily maintained our friendship, but it was mostly because of our study sessions and weekend catch-ups.
Moving in together was the logical next step. There wasn’t even much of a discussion about it. We’d always kind of joked about getting a place together, and about eight weeks before graduation, Bex showed up at my dorm room with her laptop and a list of apartments.
Once we’d settled in our apartment, everything felt right. I think the only thing she’s ever gotten on me about is roaming around naked. We’re like two puzzle pieces that fit perfectly. Nothing was ever off-limits except the two of us dating, and because of that, I tried to keep my interest in her dating life minimal. Of course I care, and monitor date numbers and who she’s with, but I didn’t fish for deeper details. I thought it was the right thing to do, but now . . . now, I know it’s because I couldn’t handle hearing the details.
She did the same and kept her distance with my girlfriends. Bex was always friendly, that’s who she is, but there was never a time when she went out of her way to join us for movies, or dinner, or anything. In fact, when my girlfriends would stay the night, a lot of the time she would crash at Rita’s or she’d stay late at work and go in early. I’d never thought about my love life hurting her or her being uncomfortable, but maybe I should have.
When I open my eyes, hers are locked on me. With a crooked finger, I beckon her closer until her lips meet mine. It’s a quick kiss, but it reiterates our connection, and that’s what I need.
“What movie would you like to see?” I ask, the taste of her lingering on my lips.
“Does it matter? We won’t be watching it.” She’s cute when she’s sassy.
“Okay, I’ll get the tickets. I’m trying really hard to respect appropriate dating boundaries, Bex. If you plan to keep pushing them, then I’d suggest wearing a skirt tonight. It’s up to you. If you want the high school experience, wear jeans.”
She bites her bottom lip as if in contemplation.
“What’s wrong?”
“I can tell you anything, right?”
I squeeze her hand in mine, trying to calm her nerves. “Absolutely.”
“I don’t think I want the high school or the college experience per se.”
“What kind of experience do you want?”
The vulnerability in her gaze floors me but not as much as her words. “The boyfriend experience.”
Makes sense—it’s the one thing she’s never had. “Then wear the skirt, Bex. We’ll have our dates, but if we’re going to skip ahead in the script to boyfriend status, you need to wear the skirt.”
She’s staring at me with hooded eyes, and my cock is stirring to the point of no return. I’ve got to get out of here for a few minutes. “I need to do some work. I’ll let you know what time the movie is when I get the tickets.”
“Okay.” Her eyes are a bit unfocused as she answers.
Once I’m safely ensconced in my room, I pull up the local theater and find the smallest auditorium in the place based on the seating charts. As if the movie gods know Bex needs this, no other seats have been sold in there so far. The movie has been out for a while, and it has horrible reviews. Some indie horror flick, which also likely means anyone else going will be there for the same reason we are.
I buy two rows of tickets—the one we’ll sit in, the one directly in front of us. It’s worth every fucking penny to have Bex alone in a secluded corner of the theater. My teenage self would’ve loved that kind of space with a date. I’m tempted to buy every seat, but part of the fun is the risk.
After that’s taken care of, I pop my head out and tell Bex what time to be ready, answer a few emails, and spend a couple of hours playing the new game and checking for any additional bugs.
I’m just about to start getting ready when Adam calls. “Want to grab some dinner?” he asks.
“Can’t. I have a date.”
“Do tell. Did you meet her at the bar last night? Is she hot? Big tits?”
Laughing, I answer, “No, yes, and they’re perfect for me.”
“Why are you being dodgy?”
“I’m not, but I’m also not going to give you tons of details.” I toss my controller down and flop back on my bed.
“Well, well, well, you finally did it, didn’t you? You’re in your very own round of dating roulette.”
Now I understand why Bex hates it when I call it that. This isn’t a game to me, and I know it’s never been a game to her. “It’s worse than that, I think.”
His snort irritates me. “Did you finally realize you’re in love with her?”
I shoot straight up. “What? No!”
“If you haven’t yet, you will. I’m pretty sure you’ve been in love with her since senior prom. Why do you think I tried to put you out of your misery and gave you my permission to date her?”
Senior prom was a hell of a night. Bexley was on a rare date seven. Her date rented a room at the hotel, hoping to take Bex’s virginity. When she told him it wasn’t on the table, he took off. She went up to the room to try to work things out because she truly liked the guy, and he was already in there fucking someone else.
I’d gone stag, and she spent the rest of the night crying on my shoulder. I held her in my arms until sunrise, and then I took her out for her favorite chocolate chip pancakes.
“Tris, you still with me? Are you realizing I’m right?” Genuine concern fills Adam’s normally cocky tone.
“No. Maybe. Fuck, Adam, I don’t know. What I do know is that if I don’t start getting ready, I’m going to be late for date number two.”
“Have fun, man, and enjoy it. You’ve been waiting a long time for this day to come.”
Bex’s long, flowing skirt has more than enough room for us to hide a number of sins. I won’t push it, not tonight, but I wish I could. She smells like apricots and cream, and I want to lick the inviting scent off her skin.
She didn’t want any snacks, only a bottle of water, and as the lights go down and the previews begin, we’re the only people in this theater. Her eyes are on the screen as I entwine our fingers together. She whips her head toward me, and I pull her hand to my lips and kiss it.
Leaning in closer, I nip the shell of her ear, and she sucks in a deep breath. That’s not good enough. I need her squirming and panting more than I need my next breath. As I trail kisses along her jaw, her shoulders relax.
“What stage of our relationship do you want to be in tonight?” Moving back to her ear, I suck the skin beneath it into my mouth.
“Uh . . . wh . . . what was the question?”
“How about pet names? Do we have them yet?” I ask.
I flick her earlobe with my tongue. “Su …Sss … Sure.” Her heated response emboldens me to continue.
“Are we fucking yet, Bex? Or are we at the stage where we haven’t yet, but we’ve done almost everything else?”
“Oh God,” she mutters, and I chuckle against her skin. The screen lights up as the preview ends and the movie begins. Her nipples are poking against her shirt. What I wouldn’t give to be able to suck them into my mouth right now.
She’s in the farthest seat against the wall in the darkest corner at the back of the theater. As casually as possible, I slide my hand across her breast, and her head falls back.
“Tristan . . .”
With our fingers still entwined, I pull our hands down to my cock, and she releases the neediest fucking hiss I’ve ever heard in my life.
“Maybe we should pretend this i
s the first cock you’ve ever touched,” I say, and she squeezes her legs together as she pushes against me. Releasing her hand from mine, I want to see what she does. Will she pull away, or will she play along?
When I leave her hand in place, she explores my dick with her fingers. She shifts in her chair so our heads are touching. “I’ve seen you naked. I knew you were on the bigger side, but damn, Tris, I never knew you were blissfully blessed by the gods of peen.”
I pull her head closer until my mouth captures hers. I want to devour her body one kiss at a time. As our tongues meet, she squeezes my cock, and I pinch her nipple between my fingers. Her back arches as she presses into me. She wrenches her lips away from mine. “Harder, Tristan, please.”
I might come in my pants like a teenage boy, but there’s no way I’d deny that request. I turn my head to be sure no one has walked into the theater yet just as the opening credits are rolling. We’re still alone for now, which means I can move freely.
“Get on your knees and turn toward me.” Her eyes widen, but she immediately complies. “Put your arms around me like we’re hugging.”
She throws her arms around my neck and breathes softly against my ear. “Like this?”
“Exactly like that.” I slide my hands under her shirt and massage her breasts. Her breathing quickens, and the harder I squeeze, the faster her breath hits my skin. When I simultaneously pinch both nipples between my fingers, she bites my neck. More than anything, I want to suck them into my mouth, but I can’t do that without exposing her.
With each pinch, I increase the intensity. She rewards me by kissing my neck, licking my skin, and whimpering in my ear.
“Has anyone come in, angel?” I ask. She gives a high-pitched whimper at the pet name. She likes it.
“No.” She gasps breathlessly.
“Good, because you’ve been teasing me tonight, and now it’s time for some payback.” As I bring my lips to hers, I slip a hand under her skirt. She stifles a cry when my fingers dance along the seam of her silky panties. She’s hot and wet in all the best places. I’d rather be doing this with my tongue, but if I play my cards right, my patience will be rewarded.
Our kiss escalates, and I slide my hand into her panties. My fingers glide easily through her excitement, and she kisses me deeper as I circle her clit. She’s a ball of pent-up sexual frustration, and it’s hot as hell. I thrust a single finger inside her, flick her clit, and pinch her nipple in the perfect combination. Bexley explodes, and I swallow her cries as her pussy pulses around my digit. She rides my hand through her orgasm, and I slide my hand out from under her shirt and caress her cheek. As her orgasm subsides, our kiss slows.
“Tristan,” she says softly, pulling back from our kiss to look at me.
When I slip my hand out of her panties, she reaches for a few napkins she stuffed in her purse earlier. She watches, eyes locked on mine, as I bring my finger to my mouth and suck her sweet essence from my skin with a tortured groan.
“I can’t believe you’re doing that right here,” she hisses. The theater is still empty, but even if it wasn’t, I’d give no fucks at this point.
“And I can’t believe I’ve been missing out on your taste for ten fucking years.” With both hands, I pull her face to mine and kiss her like the starving man I am. Our tongues entwine, and my cock aches with the knowledge I’m sharing her flavor with her.
She pulls away, gasping. “This is so damn dirty.”
I pull her close until our foreheads touch. “You think this is dirty? Wait until I come in your mouth and then devour your lips after. You can call it dirty, carnal, depraved, but I call it a fantasy fulfilled, and I can’t wait.”
She bites my bottom lip and soothes the sting with her tongue.
Our sexual chemistry is incredible, but the small part of my conscience that’s been whispering to me all night is becoming louder. Bexley isn’t a hot hookup for the night—she’s someone I could easily see myself building a future with. As sexy as it is to get her off in public, she deserves to know her worth. “Bex, I am sorry. You deserved a much better second date than this.”
Her fingers lace through my curls, and she tugs my hair gently and smiles. “Are you kidding me? This is exactly the date I wanted. I know we’re pretending in a sense, but . . .”
“Hey, this might be a form of pretending, but my feelings are real, and if I make it past date seven, you better bet the boyfriend title is a given. I want you to be mine, Bexley. Now I need to figure out how not to fuck that up.”
After placing a brief kiss on my lips, she gets comfortable in her seat and leans her head on my shoulder with a sigh. “That makes two of us. If it helps, you’re getting extra credit for the orgasm that was above and beyond.”
I want to tell her it wasn’t nearly enough, but I don’t want her to take it the wrong way. With the taste of her still lingering on my lips and tongue, all I can think about is more.
“Tris,” she whispers. “Does it bother you that I’m kind of kinky?”
The kinkier, the better is probably not the best answer right now. “Should it?”
“I’m not sure. I’ve been with some guys who weren’t into it, which was totally fine since all my sexual encounters were one-night stands. But if we were to develop into something more, it’s kind of a big deal for me. I, uh . . . enjoy sex more if I’m being challenged.”
It makes so much sense. The commanding tone, her appreciation for pain, the way watching turns her on.
“What’s your favorite position?” I ask, placing a kiss on the top of her head.
Her eyes flutter closed and then open again. “Any one where my hands are tied, or I’m being restrained.”
Ladies and gentlemen, this is my motherfucking soul mate. “Damn it, Bex,” I growl as I adjust my dick in my pants.
She looks down and giggles when she sees what I’m doing. “Want me to help you with that?”
Yes, I want you on your knees, hands behind your back, with my dick in your mouth. But that is not a second date action, and I’ve already screwed up tonight. “Yes, but another time. You being kinky doesn’t bother me in the slightest. We’ll have to have some conversations down the road, but one thing about me is that you can guarantee if you’re turned on, I’m going to be turned on.”
Her eyes flare, and she quickly turns her attention to the screen. “Do you have any idea what this movie is about?”
“Not a single clue.”
She giggles. “Well, maybe we should spend the rest of it making out. What do you think?”
I give her my answer by pulling her mouth to mine.
After the movie, we went to a late dinner at our favorite Mexican restaurant. Dating Tristan is essentially effortless. Because we have an existing relationship, we get to skip the usual getting-to-know-you awkwardness. Until he looks at me, or brushes his fingers against mine, or kisses me senseless. Then it’s a whole new world. I’ve never felt as alive as I do with him. Even when things should be uncomfortable, like when my very best friend got me off tonight, he made it feel like the most natural thing in the world.
When the check comes, I reach for my purse.
“What are you doing?” he asks with a weary expression.
“Paying my share.”
With a narrowed gaze, he shakes his head. “No, you’re not. We may have done some improper things tonight, but this is still a proper date.”
At first, I think he’s joking. “We always go dutch. Let me get my card out of my wallet.” I’m digging through my purse when he grabs my wrist and lights every hormone in my body on fire. If it were anyone else, I’d give him hell, but this is Tris, and after our kink talk, I know he’s doing this with intent.
Our eyes meet, and he squeezes tighter. Not enough to hurt but enough to make me wish we were somewhere private. “Bexley, I’m not kidding. I asked to date you, and that means anything we do will be my treat. You know money isn’t an issue, so put your purse down and
say thank you.”
My heart races, and I wish like hell this was date number seven. With a slight nod, I say, “Thank you.”
He releases my wrist, and I miss the contact immediately. Tristan leans over and kisses me. “You’re welcome.”
On the way home, I decide to ask him something I’ve been wondering about for a long time but have never wanted to risk opening the door on. “Hey Tris, how come we still live together?”
Immediately, he pulls the car into an empty parking lot. Once he parks, he faces me. “Why wouldn’t we live together? We’re both single, we get along great, and we’re best friends.”
“Right, I know all of that, but you’re kind of a big deal these days. Your last three games have made you money beyond your wildest dreams. Don’t you want to buy a house? Renting with me seems like a waste for you.”
He rakes his fingers through his curly hair, and I’m instantly jealous. I love the feel of his hair in my hands. “You know, Bex, you’re not exactly a pauper. Your salary is pretty insane. Why do you still live with me?”
I’m smiling before I even realize it, and with a slight shrug, I tell him the truth. “You’re my favorite part of the day. Why would I want to lose that?”
Tris unbuckles his seat belt and leans in, a whisper away from my lips. “And you’re the best part of mine. Money doesn’t buy happiness, Bex.”
My mouth opens before his lips find mine, and it’s as if we’re a pair of horny teenagers again with a fetish for each other’s hair. I’m a disheveled mess when we part, and so is he.
By the time we reach our front door, I’m yawning. Between the orgasm and the margarita at dinner, I’m wiped out.
Tristan walks me to my bedroom door again. It’s the sweetest gesture.
“Thank you for the date. I had a really great time.” I flutter my eyelashes at him, knowing this is one of his few dating pet peeves. I’m sure he realizes I’m intentionally trying to provoke him. If he wants to command me to stop in that sexy voice of his—it wouldn’t be the worst way to end our date.
He steps closer, and we share a long, lingering kiss. His reaction is completely opposite of what I expected, but it turns me on all the same. “It’s not so annoying when you’re doing the flirting. Do it on date number seven, and you might even be rewarded.”