by CoraLee June
I opened my mouth to ask what he was doing when he started kissing my neck again. I gasped at the cold ice mixed with his hot tongue trailing over my skin. He trailed lower, licking at my collarbone and cleavage. Reaching behind my back, Oakley then unclasped my bra, letting the thin material fall to the ground.
“Still hot, Solver?” he asked.
“N-nope,” I stammered. He wrapped his lips around my nipple and sucked. Oh holy mother of trash television.
His hands moved lower and lower, unbuttoning my pants as he moaned against my skin. I writhed against him as he worked my jeans over my thighs and off my body. The only thing I was wearing were my pink hip huggers.
“Why are you still wearing clothes?” I asked as he peppered kisses on my thighs.
“Because I’m in charge,” he replied. My breath hitched when he sucked on a tender sliver of skin on my inner thigh. My legs started to shake. “Put your hands on the window, Solver.”
I did as he told me, turning around and leaning forward on the glass where anyone could see us. It was still dark in his apartment, but it wouldn’t be difficult for someone to see me. Oakley was on his knees at my back, and I looked over my shoulder just in time to see him grab the fabric of my panties with his sharp teeth and drag them down my legs.
“Oh my Pornhub, you’re, like, really good at that,” I said. I pushed thoughts of practice makes perfect far from my mind.
“You always like to be in control, Amanda,” he said before dragging his teeth along the cheek of my ass. “I think it’s time for you to let go. Spin around.”
I did as he asked and looked down at him. Seeing Oakley on his knees in front of me was a powerful feeling. Also, from this angle, I could tell that he had ridiculously long lashes. Why did guys always get pretty lashes? It seriously wasn’t fair—
“Get out of your head, Amanda Matthews,” he ordered, lifting my left leg up and placing my thigh over his shoulder. He was eye level with my cave of wonders, and a flash of insecurity spiked through me. Did he like shaved girls? Did I have any razor bumps? Oh my God, I should have eaten some pineapple this morning. Wasn’t that supposed to make you taste good? Please kiss me. Holy son of a motherfucking—
He leaned forward and tenderly kissed me. I leaned my head back and gasped. “I could taste you forever,” he moaned while diving in. Now, Oakley was a messy eater, but he devoured pussy like a skilled target master. His tongue flicked my clit with precision and in rhythm to my bliss. His strong hands wrapped around me as he lapped me up.
I was shaking so hard he had to hold me in place. The whimpers escaping my lips were harsh and needy. I felt so close to that peak of pleasure I couldn’t handle it.
I didn’t even have time to feel embarrassed about how I arched to follow his movements. And when he pinched my clit between his demanding lips, an orgasm tore through me. It was hard and fast, bursting through every nerve ending in my body.
“Oh-oh. Oakley!” I cried out as the shocks rocked through me.
He stood up and wiped his mouth with the back of his hand. There was no mistaking the slickness coating his lips. I reached for his shirt and practically tore it off of his body. He quickly moved for his jeans and shrugged them off like a frantic man on a mission. “I can’t wait to hear you say my name when my cock is buried inside of you,” he said.
The moment his perfect body was free of clothes, I wrapped my legs around his waist. He carried me to his bedroom, kissing my neck. It felt good, to feel light and small against him. He picked me up like it was effortless.
My back hit the mattress, and he quickly pulled a condom from his nightstand. Then, he did that hot guy move where he tore open the foil with his teeth. I greedily watched as he slid it on his monster cock.
Once it was on, he pried my thighs open and stared at my cunt like it was the best damn thing he’d ever seen. “Amanda, you’re going to ruin me.”
I reached for him as he positioned himself between my legs. I looked him in the eye, grabbing his ass, guiding him inside of me. “Oh, fuckkkk,” he groaned.
Oh fuck, indeed. Oakley was fucking huge. My lips parted on a moan as I adjusted to him. “You’re so freaking big,” I choked out.
“You okay? Need me to go slow?”
“No! Hard. I want you h-hard.” I’d never been the type to demand things in bed. I was always too nervous to stumble through the motions with lackluster frat daddies to demand much of anything. But I felt safe with Oakley. I felt cherished. I felt...sexy.
Oakley didn’t waste a second. He started thrusting, pounding power in his movements. I squirmed as filthy, wet slapping sounds filled his room. We clawed at each other’s bodies, kissing, biting, crying out as our hips rolled with each hard intrusion.
“You’re so tight,” he groaned. “I’m not going to last.”
I squeezed him while dragging my nails down his back. I could feel another orgasm rolling through me. Building, building, building.
We both came together. His body went rigid, and my back arched off the bed. If it was possible to see stars, I did. I wasn’t thinking about calories, consequences, and college. It was just us. It was just Oakley.
Fuck. There was no way this could only happen once. I was addicted.
20
I woke up in Oakley’s bedroom for the second time this semester, only this time, I woke up in the bed, snuggled under the covers, with his arms wrapped around me. And for the second time, I was up before he was. I lay in bed with my eyes closed, savoring the moment for just a minute longer. I knew it was wrong, but it just felt too damn good.
I forced my eyes to open and gently extracted myself from the tangle of limbs and sheets. My parents’ flight was later this morning, and they liked to get there at least an hour and half early, just like the airlines recommended. I mentally calculated what time they needed to get to the airport and what time they would be leaving their hotel, factoring in breakfast. Light was already filtering in through Oakley’s window—holy shit, that window. I had to hustle to get to the hotel.
I got out of the bed as gingerly as I could, trying not to wake Oakley. I got to work collecting all of my clothes from the floor and got dressed in record time, only pausing to give the armchair a nostalgic glance. I decided to go commando since my panties were still completely soaked from last night. I draped them strategically over the chair so that Oakley would see them when he woke up.
I grabbed my purse and looked over at Oakley one last time. He was still dead to the world, snoring softly. Damn, I really envied his ability to sleep that well. Although, now that I was thinking about it, I didn’t wake up once during the night. Must have been all that extra cardio.
I snuck out of the apartment like a walk of shame ninja, closing the door with a soft click. I texted my mom to let her know I was on my way, and to be honest, to gauge whether she was already awake or if I was going to be pounding on the hotel room door, trying to get her up. While I was waiting for her to respond, I called an Uber. My mom replied with a simple thumbs up as I got into the car and started the twenty-minute drive over. Good enough.
I couldn’t bring myself to look at Instagram; who knew what was going to show up there after the party last night? As good as last night felt, I couldn’t deny that I was feeling nervous about the consequences. To try and calm down the ball of anxiety growing in the pit of my stomach, I passed the time in the car by popping in my headphones and watching a manifestation video.
By the time we pulled up to the five-star hotel my parents used as their drunken love nest last night, I was feeling slightly more composed. I hopped out of the car, smiled at the valet as I passed by, and made my way into the lobby.
This hotel was stunning. The floors were the first thing to catch my eye. They were a cool white and gray marble that complimented the gray textured wallpaper perfectly. The front desk was black and had a beautiful bright pink orchid sitting on top, and a man dressed in a black suit stood behind it. He looked me over and was clearly not impressed
with my wrinkled clothes and last night’s makeup. I gave him a small wave and let him know that I was meeting my parents in their room.
When I found their room, I knocked lightly, not wanting to wake other guests. My mom flung the door open and gave me the same look the front desk clerk did. “Is that what you were wearing yesterday?” my mom said, her voice carrying down the hall. I looked down at my white tank and jeans.
“Uh, yeah,” I said as I pushed past her into the room and shut the door. “I was just so exhausted from all the fun we had at the game, I fell asleep in my clothes and slept straight through my alarm,” I said weakly.
“If you say so!” my mom said, still looking at me suspiciously. She looked surprisingly good for as drunk as she got last night. I knew her well enough to know that it was expertly applied makeup and sheer determination not to admit that she couldn’t party like she was twenty anymore.
“Hi, pumpkin,” my dad said, sticking his head out of the bathroom door. “Can you help your mom finish packing while I finish shaving? Then we can go get some breakfast.”
My mom was busy shoving everything into her bags, trying to make them fit. I stopped her, took everything out, and folded it meticulously. Since they were only here for a couple of days, it only took me a few minutes to have my mom’s bags perfectly packed and ready to go.
“So you just stayed in your clothes,” Mom prodded while Dad was out of earshot.
“Yep,” I answered, popping the p for emphasis.
“Are you sure? Because that looks like a hickey on your neck,” she said, preening like a detective that just solved a case.
“Mother. Let’s not discuss this right now.”
My phone started ringing, and I absently answered it, not bothering to check the caller ID. I was just thankful for the interruption. “Hello?”
“Where are you?” Oakley rasped. His voice was heavy and sleepy, like a low purr.
“I’m busy, what’s up?”
“What’s up?” he snapped. “What’s up is I woke up and you were gone.” Wasn’t he used to that? I eyed my mother and excused myself into the hallway. I knew she’d probably press her ear to the door, but I didn’t want to make eavesdropping easy on her.
“I had plans,” I said in a low voice. “I didn’t want to wake you up.”
“Plans? Plans with who?” he growled. Was that possessiveness in his tone?
I scoffed. “None of your business. I didn’t think you’d care.” Wasn’t this what one-night stands were supposed to be? You fuck, then sneak out the next morning. Usually I was hella hungover when it happened.
“Of course I care. I was going to fuck you in the shower,” he replied. I imagined him pouting on the other end of the line.
“Shower sex never works. The space is small, and it just turns into a game of human Jenga with us flailing around.”
“I’m a pro at shower sex. You just need someone strong enough to pick you up and hold you against the wall, Solver.” I swallowed. My mouth suddenly felt very dry. All the moisture had gone to my lady flower. “Where are you? I wanted to have breakfast.”
“I told you. I have plans, Oakley. I’m too busy. And what happened last night can’t happen again.”
He chuckled. “Oh, it’s happening again, babe. And again...and again...multiple orgasms is my forte.”
“Oakley Davis, you are incorrigible. Look, I got to go…”
The door behind me opened up, and I nearly fell when the support holding me up had vanished. My mother, in all her glory, appeared with a grin on her face. “Oh honey!” she said loudly. “I’m so excited we’re having breakfast at the HILTON HOTEL IN DOWNTOWN AUSTIN OFF THE CORNER OF MAIN AND FIFTH STREET IN TWENTY MINUTES.”
I couldn’t hang up in time. Yep, that bitch was definitely listening in and was loudly letting Oakley know where we were. “I’ll be there in fifteen,” he chuckled before hanging up.
Twenty-five minutes later, we were sitting in the Hilton’s dining room, surrounded by my parents’ luggage. The tables were all covered in white linens with sunshine yellow daffodils in the center. I was beginning to think that maybe Oakley wasn’t going to come after all, and I relaxed a little bit, but then my mother started waving frantically, and all hopes of keeping her from meeting Oakley Davis vanished.
He headed straight for our table and very politely introduced himself to my parents, as though he hadn’t had his tongue all up in my lady business not even twelve hours ago. I could tell that my mom was immediately smitten with him. He was charming, I had to give him that. But my parents liking Oakley was not what I was actually worried about.
“Oakley, it’s so nice to meet you!” my mother said while hugging him in greeting. I noticed how she felt up his muscular back and nearly swatted her away. Down, Momma.
“It’s nice to meet you too,” Oakley said, his voice like honey. “Thanks for the invite to brunch. I’m glad I could make it.” He poked me in the side, then moved to shake my father’s hand. Naturally, Dad did the macho display of power, squeezing Oakley’s palm a little harder than necessary to mark his superiority. I think everyone at the table knew Oakley could take him in a thumb war any day of the week.
“It’s nice to meet you, son,” Dad said through clenched teeth. “You play a nice game of ball.”
Oakley grinned. “Did you play?”
“I was more of a mathlete in school. Made some money on calculated bets, though.” Dad winked, and I forced myself not to roll my eyes.
“Sit, sit!” Mom said, gesturing to the chair between her and me.
Oakley waited until I was in my chair, then made sure to settle right next to me, pressing his leg against mine under the table suggestively. I kicked him away, but he didn’t move. Instead, he slipped something into my hand. I opened my hand under the table and saw the pink fabric from my panties I had left on his chair. Oh. My. Loki.
“What are you going to school for?” Dad asked.
“Business. My mother owns a few flower shops across the country. Gonna help her out once I’ve graduated.”
“Oh, I love flowers,” Mom interrupted. “Roses are my favorite. It’s the ultimate gesture of love,” she added suggestively, waggling her eyebrows. Way to go for overkill, Mom.
“I’ll be sure to have my mother send you a bouquet.” Oakley winked, and just like that, my mother was putty in his hand. Damn, he was good.
“We are just so glad we got to meet you. I follow you on Instagram, you know,” Mom said.
Oh shit. Stop talking, Mom. Oakley grabbed my knee under the table. “Oh?” he replied.
“That photo of you shirtless with the puppy on the beach was really inspiring,” Mom purred, making Dad laugh.
“That was from three years ago…” Oakley looked confused, and I wanted to hide.
“Okay! I’m hungry. Ravenous,” I said with a choked cough. “I want pancakes. Who wants pancakes?”
“I’m pretty hungry too,” Oakley added. “Worked up quite an appetite yesterday.” He let a long suggestive pause fill the space before adding, “At the game, of course.”
After a few minutes of more awkward chitchat, my mom went in for the kill. “So what did the two of you get up to last night?”
“Oh, nothing,” I started to say.
“We went to an after-party to celebrate the win,” Oakley told my mom at the exact same time.
Both of my parents went quiet and looked at me nervously. The tension was thick enough that Oakley looked genuinely concerned and asked, “Did I do something wrong?”
“Amanda, are you partying again?” my dad asked sternly, completely ignoring Oakley’s question.
“No, Dad,” I said. “I mean, yes, I went to a party, but I wasn’t partying.” I tried to clarify.
“Oh honey, after everything we did to give you a fresh start after that unfortunate streaking incident,” my mom said, looking distressed. “Oh Crosby, I knew I shouldn’t have drank last night. Did it make you spiral? I feel so selfish.”
; Oakley’s eyes practically bulged out of his head. He looked at me like he was dying to hear more. He was the fucking worst. I really just needed this breakfast to be over, and I did not feel like getting into my past with anybody, let alone Oakley.
“Mom!” I said firmly, my eyes wild. “I’m fine. I went to an after-party to keep an eye on Oakley; it’s my job. I did not drink. I did not do anything stupid.” At least, not anything that anybody other than Oakley knew about.
“We didn’t even stay that long,” Oakley quickly added in a half-hearted attempt to help me out. “We were barely there for an hour.”
“Then why were you out so late?” Dad asked, and my cheeks flamed red. I was not about to tell my parents I left early to fuck my client.
“Pancakes,” Oakley spat out awkwardly. “Where are those damn pancakes?”
We finished our breakfast in an uncomfortable silence, with Oakley staring at me intently the entire time. I was so relieved when the check was paid and it was time to leave. I gave both my mom and dad quick hugs and reassurances that I was doing really well. They then left in a taxi for the airport. Now, I just had to deal with Oakley.
“Streaking incident?” Oakley asked the first moment we had alone. I knew this was coming. I could only escape my past for so long. I turned to face Oakley with a sheepish grin, though there was a heavy sense of remorse tugging at my stomach.
“I got very drunk one night and went streaking on our campus president’s lawn,” I said as fast as I could get the words out.
His eyes widened, but he didn’t say a word. I took his silence as encouragement to continue. “It was sloppy. I fell down. And when he went outside, I puked on his slippers.”
“That’s...bad,” Oakley replied with a sympathetic wince.
“What’s worse was that it was all caught on video. I was about forty pounds heavier. The fat shaming was really intense,” I admitted. The act of what I’d done was enough to scare me. My whole career was built around developing reputations, and that single act ruined mine. But the comments. The snickers. The hashtags. It was a lot.