Page 60 of Choke Up

I swallow. "Your date?" I repeat.

"It doesn't matter," he says. "She doesn't matter."

"It matters to me."

"Then it won't happen again. I don't have to play pretend to cover my tracks."

"She's pretty." I loathe how insecure I sound.

"Not as pretty as you," he says against my mouth, teasing my bottom lip with his teeth. "Speaking of pretty…" He allows a couple of inches of space between us, trailing his knuckles down my abdomen to the rainbow band of elastic that peeks above my jeans. "You wore my present." He slips a finger beneath the waistband, trailing it from one hip to the other.

I clench and groan. "More than one of them," I admit with a shaky breath.

Gabe's eyes flash. "Here?"

I think I read half a dozen emotions peeking through the heat of his stare.

Cheeks flushed, I bite my lip and nod.

He blows out a breath. "Jesus. I want to be mad, but…" he looks over his shoulder, presumably to see if we have as much privacy as it feels like in our bubble. It must be good enough, because he slips his hand in the back of my clothes, immediately running his middle finger down my crease. We both groan when he touches the blunt end of the butt plug. He pushes against the flared base, and I hiss.

"You're not mad?"

"I'm a little mad," he says, his eyes glazed.

"Good."

He blinks away some of the lust and raises his eyebrows. "Good?"

"Yeah. That's why I used them. I wanted you to be mad and then take it out on me when I came home later."

His jaw tenses. "You act like you want a repeat performance of the first time."

"I do. Except this time, I'd be stretched and prepped for you. Ready for anything you can throw at me." I watch his throat bob with a deep swallow, and I nip his Adam's apple. "I want to show you that I can handle you. That I can take you better than she could."

"Baby…"

"Don't baby me. And don't placate me. You bought me rainbow jock straps, lube, and butt plugs. I read that as a big box of 'let's fuck', so don't ruin my birthday by taking it away."

"I'm not taking it away. But we need to work you up to?—"

"I'm wearing the big one."

His face goes blank for a moment after my confession, processing my words. I almost want to giggle at his expression. It's like he's rebooting or something.

I'd seen his gift when I got home, tearing it open angrily and then staring down at the contents. I laughed enough to dry my tears, but not enough to take away the sting of anger. I plotted my redo of the night I came home from winter break even as I inserted the first of three plugs, each increasing in size by almost double. The biggest one still isn't anywhere close to how big Gabe is, but if I can get accommodated to this, I'll have a fighting chance.

I showered with the first plug in, letting myself get worked up, bringing myself to the edge. Then I locked my door and tried the next size up while I packed a bag to go get ready at Antoni's place. I was uncomfortably full and acting like a spaz, so I ended up telling him about the gift and the plugs. He seemed begrudgingly impressed that Gabe had abstained from fucking me and had been so giving and attentive for all these weeks. According to him, the plugs signified that he'd done some research, too. He applauded my tenacity and vindictive plan, but cautioned me because he still thinks I'm moving too fast. I chose not to mention that I forced the largest of the plugs inside me just before we left, although I'm pretty sure my wide-eyed and flushed expression probably gave me away. When Ivy and Tyrell met us outside the dorm and climbed into an Uber, they both questioned if I was okay. Antoni gave them a bullshit answer about me taking a shot, which I'd actually declined because, as fucked up as it is, I didn't want to numb myself against the discomfort.

Antoni had confiscated my phone back at his place when I couldn't stop looking at my phone, and once we got to the club, I lost myself to the music for a while. I let the pressure in my ass be a reminder of my anger; I let it work me up so I could steel my resolve and show Gabe that I'm better than some pretty blonde with mile long legs and a hole that self-lubricates. And when it got to be too much, I came upstairs for a breather. I was contemplating if I should head home to get this thing out of me when he found me.

Now I'm about to blow in my fucking pants. Especially when Gabe groans and presses me into him, my impossibly hard cock pressed against his and his fingers rubbing the base of the plug.

"I need to see it," he says, desperation lacing his voice. "Now."

I look around us in a panic. No one cares if two people are making out and grinding each other in a shadowy corner of a club, but I can't exactly drop my pants and present my asshole to him right here. On the other side of the balcony, there's a room where Tyrell told me people sometimes give each other hand jobs. I don't think I want to be on display, and I'm pretty sure that's where Tyrell disappeared to. He also told me there are holes in the bathroom stalls, which I'm not gonna lie, terrified me. The line to the bathroom is ridiculous, anyway.

Off in the far corner there's a hallway I hadn't noticed before, a dim red glow lighting a path. I see one employee come out of the hallway, but other than that, it's very inactive. Adjusting my erection as well as I can in these tight ass pants, I make a beeline for that hallway. If there's nothing private back there, we'll go to the parking lot. I'm beyond caring at this point. I just need to come. Preferably down Gabe's throat while he fucks me with the giant butt plug that's becoming very uncomfortable.

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