Page 42 of Play With Me
Then he stalks off without a backward glance, and I’m left bent over, breathing like I’ve run ten miles, my cock aching and my mind swirling.
I have no idea what the fuck to think, but I know that I’ll do what he asks.
Tonight I’ll be ready.
I’m not fucking ready. I’m a mess. I’ve showered three times, cleaning my ass each time, my soapy finger sliding in and out of my hole until I was leaning up against the tiled wall and gasping for breath.
Maybe I should let him fuck me. Put me out of my misery.
I sit on my bed, clothed, but my leg bouncing up and down as I try to play it cool. I’m anything but. I’m overheated and anxious. I want to get this over with. I want to get on with it. I want to feel him push his way inside.
I glance at the box he gave me with the plugs and the lube. It’s sitting on my bed, the rainbow flag my mom sent me underneath it.
A bit symbolic if I think about it too hard.
Someone knocks on the door to my room, and I nearly fall trying to answer it. It’s just Paulie, his eyebrows rising as he takes me in.
“Yeah, I’m gonna go out for a bit. Because you’re having someone over, right?” He eyes the box and the flag, and I bang my forehead against the doorframe.
“Yeah. I guess so.”
“Cool. Be safe, man.”
“Yeah.”
He leaves, the door clicking shut behind him, and I knock my head against the wall a few times. Be safe? Dunno if I am, to be honest. I’m fucking around with fire, and I’m gonna get burned. Badly.
I just don’t know how to stop.
My phone beeps, and I stare down at it, a message from my sister asking me what I’ve been doing. I don’t answer right away, or she’ll realize I’m in way over my head.
My phone beeps again, and I see it’s from Colton. He’s sent another car, wants me to get in. I shouldn’t. I shouldn’t pack up the flag and the plugs and the lube. And I most certainly shouldn’t buckle myself into the car as the driver meets my stare in the rearview mirror.
“Having a good evening, Mr. Witkoff?” the man asks, and I nod.
I feel like a paid whore on my way to get fucked.
There’s so much truth to that right now, I don’t even know where to begin. Only thing is…I’m not getting paid.
But I am cashing in.
The car pulls up to the frat house, and I walk onto the porch, seeing Ferris outside, crocheting.
“Hey, you’re back.”
I nod, averting my gaze. He has no idea how often I’ve been back. And I refuse to admit it because it’s so embarrassing.
“Um, yeah, I left something upstairs.”
Uh-huh, my dignity. Gotta go grab it.
His eyes flash to mine. “Oh, yeah? Want me to get it?”
I shake my head. “Nah, I gotta do this myself. Thanks, though. Cute little hamster.”
His eyes light up. “Thanks. I can give it to you when I’m done.”
“Yeah, that would be cool.”
