Page 28 of The Boyfriend Boycott
“No, I haven’t looked yet,” Spencer says, her voice flat, tired. “I’ll let you know what I think of them later.”
“Okay, just text me back with your favourite.”
“Will do. Bye.” Spencer puts the phone down and stares at me. “Want to look at pictures of boobs with me?”
I choke on my beer.
“For your mom? No thanks. Just leave me out of this one.”
“I may not have a degree, but at least I’m not overhauling my boobs for a mediocre husband. I can get by with my looks for now. Although, my thirties are approaching rather quickly.” She says it as if getting older is a bad thing, like aging is something to be avoided. I don’t know how to tell her that aging is a gift. That, as someone who lost their mom young, I wish I could tell her how precious every passing year is.“These wrinkles are getting deeper by the day.”
Spencer goes back to eating, and it’s silent between us for a moment before I decide that I can’t let that statement go. My fork clanks on my plate as I set it down.
“You are beautiful, Spencer. I would be willing to bet anything that even at a hundred years old you’ll still be turning heads. You would certainly turn mine.”
“You aren’t the first to tell me that, Grady. Most of the guys that want to get in my pants tell me I’m beautiful at one point or another. They don’t mean it. Even if they do, my looks will fade. It happens to everyone. Then what will I have going for me?” Spencer dips her chin, dabbing her mouth with her napkin like that’s the reason why she’s refusing to look at me. It’s crushing. How could this gorgeous, incredible woman not see in herself what everyone else does—what I do? She’s stunning, but she’s so much more than that. I turn on my stool to face her.
“You have more to offer than your looks, Spencer. University degree or not,” I say.
Her gaze is still fixed on her dish, but I need her to look at me.I need her to know how much I mean it. Half a second after Spencer sets her napkin down on the counter, I grip the seat of her stool and swivel it, pulling her in so that her legs are positioned in between mine. I try not to think of her thighs grazing mine as I stare into her eyes which are wide with surprise.
“I’m not talking about your looks,” I say, my voice lowering an octave. My eyes flick down in time to see goosebumps forming on Spencer’s arms, and it’s so fucking satisfying to see her have a physical response to me. “I mean, of course you’re stunning. There’s a reason that I’m so fucking attracted to you that I can barely hold myself back from you even now.” I clear my throat, past the lump that’s forming there. “You’re beautiful because you’re strong, you’re witty, and smart. You grab life by the balls and make every fucking day count. You are not atornado, Spencer. You are a whirlwind. You’re passionate and fierce, but you don’t leave destruction in your wake. You leave people better than they were before, their lives turned upside down in the best way possible.”
I speak the words that Spencer needs to hear, the ones I can no longer contain in my heart. Suddenly, she’s leaning forward, her hands on either one of my thighs, and she’s kissing me. Her lips are salty as a tear escapes and trickles down her cheek, but I don’t wipe it away. Her tongue finds the crease of my lips and parts them. She tastes sweet and tangy from the wine. I let myself get drunk on her.
Soon, we’re both standing; Spencer on her tiptoes and me bending down to meet her. Our lips are more desperate now, and our hands roam each other’s bodies with urgency. I’m tempted to lift her into my arms and cart her off down the hall to my bedroom but …
“What about the rule? One night. Your boyfriend ban.” I pull away, breathless. I’m hoping for an answer I know I’m not going to get. All I want is for her to say, ‘Screw the boyfriend ban.’ I want her to say that she doesn’t care about it. I’m hoping it’s one of those flexible rules, like the other two boundaries we’ve already crossed.
“The boyfriend ban is only a problem if you want to be my boyfriend,” Spencer rasps.
It’s as though the air gets sucked out of my lungs, the feeling of disappointment crushing. I can’t say anything more, because now she’s lowering herself to the floor and unbuckling my belt. My mind slows, words refusing to form. By the time I have an inkling of a response, Spencer has pushed my pants down around my ankles and she’s parting her lips around the head of my already hard cock.
And now the only word I can think of isfuck.
Spencer takes more of my length, her lips wrapping around me while her tongue flicks the sensitive underside of my shaft. I brace one hand on the counter to steady myself, and one hand wraps around Spencer’s ponytail, pulling it firmly.
“God, you have no idea how many times I’ve imagined fucking your mouth.”
Spencer lifts her eyes to meet mine while she sucks deeper, longer, my head touching the back of her throat. She watches me, my hips bucking in response, her eye contact intensifying the sensation of her tongue on my cock.
I thought I had seen the extent of Spencer’s beauty today in that store, but here, on her knees, she is a beauty not of this world. I would do anything to be worthy of it, of her.
She keeps her mouth around me, andhums.She fucking hums. The vibration at the back of her throat makes my knees buckle, just about careening over my edge. Before I find my release, I’m hauling her up off the floor, kicking my pants off, and lifting her off the ground.
“I wasn’t finished with you!” she cries as I carry her down the hall to my bedroom.
“I’m far from finished,” I say, tossing her on the bed. “But all I could think about back there is how I missed the taste of your perfect little cunt.”
I remove Spencer’s bottoms as she swiftly removes her top, baring her breasts to me. She wastes no time climbing over me as I lie back on the bed. She straddles my hips while she rolls her nipples between her fingers. Spencer throws her head back and lets out a moan as she rocks her hips on my hard length.
“I told you, Spencer, I want to taste you,” I remind her, my voice lowering as I rasp. “So come here and sit on my face like a good girl.”
Spencer does as she’s told, maybe for the first time in her life, and positions herself over me, hovering over my mouth.
“Sit,” I growl, pushing her hips down, my tongue finding her slit. Spencer jolts forward, the sudden sensation causing her to lose her balance until her hands find the edge of the wooden headboard. She steadies herself, and her body slackens, using the leverage to rock her weight between me and the bed. I let her find her rhythm, and then I match it, using my tongue to provide counter pressure on her clit.
Spencer moans as the repetitive motion brings her closer to the orgasm I can feel building. Her eyelids become heavy with ecstasy, fluttering as the rest of her face slackens.
