Page 89 of Tips and Trysts

And Everett’s climax is slow after the quick work his body made of mine. Exhaling, he fills my ass and we both know I’m going to leave it there—cum dripping out of my well-fucked hole. I want it there. I love it there.

Carefully, he slides out and lowers to a crouch. Kneeling behind me, Everett traces his finger around my rim.

“At first, I didn’t think something so tiny and pink could take such a big cock,” he muses before placing his hands on my ass cheeks and spreading them, examining me in the most clinical and cocky way possible—and of course, it works on me. “Every time I watched one of your old streams, I was dying to see more of this asshole. Really pretty. Can I call it mine?”

But before I can agree, he bites my ass cheek—hard.

I drag my fist against the painted brick. The sting from his teeth is mostly sensitivity and lingering prickles from a mind-altering climax, but he doesn’t let up. He keeps his teeth pressed into the surface of my skin, applying more pressure, markingme.

When he releases me, I gasp and flatten my hand against the wall, steadying myself.

“Amazing,” he murmurs before he slides my underwear up my legs and pats my ass cheek like he’s commending it for a job well done. He stands again.

I’m still facing the wall, hands braced against it, and I can feel Everett behind me. He makes me face him. And when we’re eye to eye, he adjusts my dress to cover my tits and then reaches into his pocket.

To my surprise, he pulls out his watch.

He loops the heavy thing onto my wrist and clasps it. The watch is far too large, but the look that passes between us tells me everything. He’s smiling at me, not outright, but it’s there in his eyes—in the crinkled outer corners.

He just tipped me with a twenty-thousand-dollar watch given to him by his father—the man who shaped Everett for a career in politics.

There’s a metaphor here: If it came down to it, this guy would throw everything away for me.

Holy shit.

Twenty-Nine

EVERETT

It’s one in themorning when Lander finally drops off my girl. He has a key to my house, so I’m in the kitchen re-heating the tacos I ordered for Cora when I hear them come in. Cheeks flushed, giggling, Cora stumbles into my arms when I meet them in the foyer.

Lander shuts the door before he raises an eyebrow in that classic, intimidating Lander Dawson way. But when we had sleepovers in elementary school, I was afraid of the dark, and Lander used to hold my hand until I fell asleep. Nothing about this guy intimidates me.

“Everett, I’m going to murder you next time you’re alone,” he states.

Cora is absentmindedly running her hand along the plane of my chest while sort of standing, sort of falling over.

Yep—super drunk.

“What makes you think I’m ever going to be alone again?” I reply before I drag my hand over Cora’s ponytail. In response, she rises on her toes and lays a sloppy kiss on my neck.

“Can I sleep over?” she mutters into my skin.

“Of course, princess,” I reply before giving her waist a squeeze. I look back at Lander. “Thanks.”

Lander nods and then pokes Cora in the arm. “I’m heading out, Cora Bora. Text me if you two need me, yeah?”

Cora gives Lander a salute and waves goodbye before she heads upstairs, ass swaying amazingly as she goes.

“Well, I’ve got a car full of camgirls to bring home,” Lander mentions, gesturing over his shoulder.

I nod. “Are you mad at me?”

“No,” he admits with an immediate, emphatic head shake. “Caught off guard, maybe, but I like it, Ev. You seem happy. And it’s clear you need to be with her and win the election too, so let’s figure it out.”

“Thanks, Lan.”

“Love you,” he says, waving as he leaves.

---