“Mmm.” I spear a bite of chicken and hum as I chew it.
“Do we have any idea what pretty boy could actually be up to?” She wipes her mouth on a napkin, giving me a serious look as she does, and I know without a doubt she’s already brewing her next spy mission.
“No, no, no.” I wave my arms frantically like I’m trying to land a plane. “It’s a waste of time trying to figure him, or any guy, out. I’ve been down this path before and mixed signals are a hard pass for me. If a guy likes you, he’ll let you know, and right now, he’s ignoring me, so I take that to mean he’s not interested and doesn’t know how to tell me.”
“Lou.” Her face falls.
“I’ve been with his type before. It never ends well.”
For a girl like me.
I feel anger at myself the second the thought comes to me.
What is a girl like me, exactly? I’m beautiful, confident, happy, smart, and fucking thriving. I’m just like everyone else. My past mistakes with guys have nothing to do with me, and everything to do with the wrong kind of guy.
“He seems different.”
“Seemed,” I correct. “He seemed different.”
I still think Abel is different, I have to give him credit there, but I also have to accept the fact that something between us scared him away. Our chemistry is intense, and it’s one thing that can’t be faked. It’s enough to scare anyone, including myself.
Definitely myself.
“Does he know you like him? Maybe he thought he was being too pushy? Guys don’t like to do all the chasing, you know.”
“I honestly don’t know, and I’m not going to waste my time trying to figure it out.”
I close the lid on my takeout and reach for the box of donuts.
Donuts won’t do you dirty like men will.
“Well, if you’re sending him mixed signals…” She trails off, giving a small shrug and a look that says then it’s your fault.
I give her my best withering death stare and grab a donut.
I bite into it and suppress a moan at the delicious, doughy, flavor.
“What did the world do before donuts?” I wonder out loud.
“No idea.” She grabs a chocolate-covered sprinkle one for herself.
Taking another bite I get to the best part, the cream filling. “You know,” I swipe a bit of the white filling and lick my finger clean, “cum is such a nasty, dirty word. Crème de la penis is much more enticing.”
Miranda’s eyes widen, and I think it’s at my crudeness, but she’s not looking at me.
“Crème de la penis, huh, Blondie?”
I spit bits of donut across the table, some even landing on poor Miranda as my head whips around to find Abel standing right behind me.
He grins, tilting his head as his eyes take in the mess I’ve made. “So you’re a spitter, not a swallower? Good to know.”
I don’t embarrass easily. I’m always doing something stupid, but this … yeah, this is really freaking embarrassing.
“Um…” I flounder searching for words.
What are werds?
His smile grows. “What are you guys doing?”
Before Miranda can fill him in on our spying I blurt, “We really wanted donuts.”
“Donuts or … crème de la penis?” His eyes sparkle with amusement and I want to crawl under the table and die.
“Lou definitely needs anything involving a penis.”
I kick my best friend beneath the table and she groans.
“Well,” Abel tosses a thumb over his shoulder, “I have some things to do, but I’ll see you later. It’s been a busy week. Coach has been running us through the ringer, so I’m sorry I haven’t been around.”
Miranda gives me a shit-eating grin that says see, he wasn’t avoiding you.
“Yeah, see you later.”
I need him to go, far away, preferably to a whole other state, while I recover from my mortification.
I watch him walk away, and when I turn around to find Miranda laughing her ass off at me, I toss it at her and mutter, “I hate you.”
She picks it up and pops it in her mouth. “You might hate me, but you want a taste of Abel’s donut.”
She punctuates it with a wink.
I can’t even argue, because she’s right.
20
Lou
Walking into the empty apartment, I drop my stuff in my bedroom, change into comfy clothes, and then proceed to clean the apartment from top to bottom like a madwoman.
If I clean like crazy, then I can’t possibly think about Abel and the fiasco at the mall.
Crème de la penis. I’m an idiot. Why doesn’t someone ever tell me to shut up? Like come on Miranda, you could’ve given me a warning that he was right there.
Blasting a playlist full of songs from the Backstreet Boys, N*SYNC, Spice Girls, One Direction, and my beloved Jonas Brothers, I dance along to the music as I dust off shelves. It helps empty my mind for the most part.
Dancing my way over to the jar of Starbursts I reach for a pink one, popping it into my mouth as I sing along to the Jo Bros song Lovebug.
“Oh my God!” I scream spitting out the Starburst.
It lands on my already mopped tiled kitchen floor. Only instead of being pink like it should be, it’s fucking yellow.
“Bleh, nasty!” I dash to the refrigerator and grab a Capri-Sun to get rid of the disgusting lemon taste clinging to every one of my taste buds.
Slurping down the Capri-Sun, a thought occurs to me and I tiptoe across the floor to the container. I get my hand around another pink one and pull it out, unwrapping it carefully.
Yellow.
Once, I could see it possibly being a manufacturing error and a stray yellow Starburst ended up in a pink wrapper, but twice? That’s too much of a coincidence for me.
Picking another I remove the wrapper, again, it’s yellow.
Before I know it I’ve opened more than ten Starbursts that should be pink and delicious strawberry, but they’re all yellow and stupid, no good, disgusting lemon.
“Abel!” Grabbing the Starbursts I carry them and the wrappers, tossing them on his perfectly made bed.
As I storm out of his room, the front door opens and he appears in the flesh.
“You suck,” I cry, and pounce on him.
His eyes widen in startled surprise, but his arms wind around my body anyway, keeping us upright as the door closes behind him.
“What’d I do?”
So fucking innocent.
“You covered all the yellow Starbursts with pink wrappers! You tricked me!”
“Still don’t like lemon?” That cocky grin of his surfaces, and with him holding me—his hands cupping my ass—we’re eye level.
“No! No one in their right mind likes lemon.”
“I do.” His voice lowers and he reaches up tentatively to capture a lock of hair that decided to go rogue and hightail itself out of my messy bun. “And I like you.”
His words freeze me in place.
I’ve barely seen him this week and in that time my brain went on a tailspin, telling me lies about why he wasn’t around, and it’s hard to reconcile what it deluded me into believing wasn’t the truth.
And the truth is, for whatever reason, we like each other.
Fate, my mind taunts me.
Fate has been my guiding force in life. I’ve relied on it to steer me in the right direction, to show me reason when things don’t make sense.
Abel and I … we don’t make sense, but somehow we do.
The words I like you too are on the tip of my tongue, but I don’t release them.
Instead, I show him.
Our lips collide and my fingers delve into his silky dark locks, pulling him closer.
With him holding me like this, my pussy presses against his groin and an ache fills my belly.
There are so many reasons why I shouldn’t be going down this path.
He’s my roommate.
We’re kind of s
ort of friends now.
I swore off guys.
But I throw all those worries out of my brain.
Fate keeps pushing me toward Abel, and I’ve always trusted that bitch, so why should now be any different?
His back knocks into the door from the force with which I kiss him. We’re both frantic, gasping, absolutely needy with desire for each other. I feel like a spark has been lit and now we’re combusting.
“You’re making me break all my rules.” He murmurs the words in a low growl, his brown eyes darker than normal. Before I can ask what he means, we’re kissing again and all rational thought goes out of my mind.
His hold tightens around me and I clasp his face between my hands, the stubble there rubbing roughly against my palms. He carries me away from the door, and with what feels like only a few steps thanks to his long legs, we’re in my room with the softness of my mattress suddenly pressing against my back.
My legs fall open and his body fits between them like he was always meant to rest there.
A low growl hums in his throat as we kiss, and I gasp when he grabs my hands, forcing them above my head.
He trails kisses down the curve of my neck, and I really wish I was wearing something much cuter than the sweatpants and sweater I tossed on when I got home. My clothes scream frumpy homebody, not dear roomie, fuck me.
Thankfully, Abel doesn’t seem to notice, or if he does he clearly doesn’t mind because his erection pressing into me tells me he’s all for it.
This day has gone from 0 to 100 faster than seems possible. It’s all too easy to misinterpret something and have your mind spin it into something it’s not.
“I don’t know what it is,” his breath is husky as his fingers glide under my sweatshirt, “but I’m fucking crazy for you. You’re all I can think about.”
The feeling is mutual, but my brain isn’t working properly to give him any sort of response.
His lips find mine once more as he removes one hand from mine, but is still careful to keep a tight hold so I can’t move, and cups my face with it. Tilting my head back he kisses me with fervor, a desperation to devour me.
I’ve never been kissed like this before.
It’s not sloppy, or possessive.
It’s worshipful, like I’m some goddess lying beneath him and he’s desperate to win my favor.
He grinds his hips against me and mine rise to meet his.
My fingers push against his hand, wanting to break free, to touch and feel him.
“Not yet, Blondie.” His voice is a croon as he rubs his lips against the shell of my ear.
I let out a small whimper, unable to stop the sound from leaving my lips.
He gives a small chuckle, his chest vibrating against mine and my whimper turns to a moan.
His kisses grow more urgent and need builds low in my belly, ready to combust, even though he hasn’t really touched me. I’m going to explode when he finally does.
He releases my hands and I cry out in relief. Before I can touch him, he’s pulling away and shoving my sweater up and over my body revealing my jog bra. Girls with big boobs like mine don’t get to wear cute bralettes, this is the best we can do. The way his eyes take in my breasts makes me think he doesn’t care that it’s not some lacy scrap of nothing.
He wants me, not what I’m wearing, and fuck if that doesn’t make my pussy pulse with need. There’s an ache I need filled and he’s the only one who can.
I sit up and reach for the bottom of his shirt. I lift it slowly, but he grabs the hem and rips it off, tossing it to a far corner of my room.
Grasping my chin he lowers his head, devouring my lips once more. I just want to get to the good part, but he’s determined to drag this out and savor every moment.
I reach out as he kisses me, finding the button and zipper of his jeans.
“Lou,” he rasps as I rub my hand over his length.
My eyes flick up to his. He still holds my face in his hands, but he’s frozen, his breath the only indicator he’s still alive.
I’m not inexperienced in the sex department, even if most of those encounters weren’t the best time, and it’s safe to say none of those guys ever looked at me like Abel is. It’s the kind of look some people spend ages searching for, only never to discover it.
My brain screams at me to not let this go, that this is the guy I’ve been hoping for all along, but I’m still afraid of getting hurt. Not scared enough to stop this, however.
“C-Can I touch you?” My question doesn’t sound nearly as confident as I meant it to, but his look has stripped me bare of all my pretenses and walls. There’s something about my vulnerability that seems to make this moment mean infinitely more. What’s about to happen between us, it isn’t going to just be sex.
It’s more. So much more.
He gives a small nod, so insubstantial that at first I don’t realize he has until he whispers, “God, yes.”
I stand up, which forces him to take a step back.
His eyes are on me as I lower to my knees in front of him.
“I’ve never done this before,” I admit, and his eyes widen a fraction.
“Sex?” The words leave him in astonishment.
I laugh a little, tugging his shorts down past his perfect ass. “A blowjob,” I emphasize. “I’ve never met someone worth kneeling for.”
“Fuck.” His head drops back. “I think that’s the hottest thing I’ve ever heard.”
I tug his jeans off the rest of the way and he steps out of them.
He’s left in nothing but his black boxer-briefs. His erection presses against the confines of fabric and I glide my hand along his length, air hissing between his teeth as I do. I rise up a little higher, licking a trail from his navel down and stopping at the band of his briefs.
His hands reach for my hair, fisting it in his large hand.
“Don’t tease me,” he begs, his eyes pleading.
“Me?” I blink innocently. “Never.”
I might not have ever given a blowjob, because like hell was I ever kneeling for any of my douchebag hookups, but it seems easy enough to figure out.
Or maybe all the porn I’ve watched has just made it seem that way.
Regardless, here goes nothing.
I hook my fingers into his boxer-briefs, looking up at him as I do, and tug them down.
His giant dick smacks me in the face and I grab my cheek in surprise. “Oh my God.”
I eye the monster cock in front of me.
“What the hell am I supposed to do with that?” I blurt.
He chuckles huskily, entirely amused, but I’m not kidding. This thing is huge. Like porno huge.
God, what is with me and porn tonight? I have the real deal right here.
“It’s a good thing I like a challenge.”
I grip him in my hand and he lets out a low moan. My tongue slides out and I lick the tip of his cock, rubbing my tongue back and forth over the sensitive skin.
When I take him in my mouth, well as much as I can, his knees start to shake.
If he falls, I’m pretty sure my throat will be impaled by his cock and if that isn’t one hell of a way to go then I don’t know what is.
Here lies Lou. Death by cock decapitation.
My mother would be so proud of that.
Stop thinking about your mother, Lou! She does not belong anywhere near this situation!
“Lou.” He growls my name in a husky moan as I guide my mouth up and down his length.
I never thought I’d like this, and maybe if I’d done it with those other guys I wouldn’t have, but I like knowing what I do to him is making him weak.
His quiet begging, pleading, and my name as a prayer on his lips is something I could get used to.
“Never done this before? I call bullshit,” he gasps, his fingers flexing in my hair as he holds it back.
I let him go with a pop and his cock sways tauntingly in front of me.
“It’s true. I think I just like your cock.”
“Fuck, woman,” he growls. “Bed. Now.”
My eyes widen at his command, but I obey, crawling on the bed.
He yanks my sweatpants off within seconds and I giggle as they fly across my room and knock over a lamp. Abel doesn’t even notice.
“You’re wearing too many clothes.” His tone is frustrated even though I’m only in my bra and panties now.
I sit up and pull my bra off and I swear my boobs sigh out loud in relief at no longer being trapped. My boobs are big, with stretch marks, and are far from perky but Abel’s eyes lap them up like he’s ready to devour a tasty morsel.
Sometimes, I can’t help but think about my thick thighs or pudgy belly when getting naked in front of a guy. I’m confident, but that doesn’t mean I don’t have my insecure moments, and usually they arise in these situations when I’m bare and exposed to another human being.
But Abel doesn’t look at me like he wishes I was someone else, or that my body was different. He just sees me, as I am, and he loves it.
“You’re beautiful. So fucking beautiful.”
He kisses me, sucking the air from my lungs. I feel him grasp my panties and I wiggle my ass to help him get rid of them.
He breaks the kiss, gazing at me beneath him.
We’re both stark naked, but there is no embarrassment, only longing and a feeling of need I never knew could exist.
He’s become the oxygen in the room, my way to another breath, and if he doesn’t touch me I’m going to suffocate.
He lowers his body and I gasp when his tongue swipes along my center. My fingers grip the sheets and my hips move of their own accord, trying to get closer to his mouth.
He swirls his tongue around my clit and I moan, slapping a hand over my mouth in the process to quiet my sounds.
His mouth leaves me for a moment and he grabs my hand, jerking it away.
“I want to hear you, to see you. I want everything. Don’t deny me this.”
His words elicit a whimper from between my lips. I’m used to hard, fast, over-before-you-know-it, sex. Not this.
I don’t think I’ve ever experienced this amount of pleasure before.
“Abel,” I moan his name, my fingers tugging at his hair. “Oh my God.”
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