Page 56 of My Best Friend's Bully

Tyson:I think you need to read that section again. I’ll be there at 6 with everything you need. Take some study breaks, you’re already brilliant.

I can’t wipe the goofy smile off my face as I set my phone down. There was a weight in my stomach I hadn’t been aware of until it was lifted, put there by the distance between Tyson and me.

With the anxiety I hadn’t even realized now gone, I find focus and I knock out the next six study problems in an hour. With Tyson coming over, I don’t have time for a study break now so I jump right into flashcards. My mind is on fire this afternoon and I make it through the whole set without a single incorrect answer.

At five o’clock, the golden rays of the setting sun paint themselves across the top of my desk, dust motes floating in the beams like sparklers on a fourth of July evening. I’ve been sitting in the same position for nearly four hours and the stiffness in my neck is telling me it’s too much. I lean back in my chair, stretch my arms back over my head and roll my neck, letting out a long deep breath.

One hour until Tyson gets here. My stomach growls, partly from hunger, but mostly from nerves. “Calm down,” I say, touching my belly. “It’s only Tyson. And he’s bringing dinner.”

I wrestle myself from my chair and go into the kitchen to tidy up, tossing dishes into the dishwasher, and follow by straightening the blankets on the couch. I even light a candle, lavender vanilla, and set it on the coffee table. I blow it out. Does it look like I’m trying too hard?Get it together.I am way overthinking this. Thirty minutes until Tyson gets here.

As I’m stripping down to get into the shower, my phone vibrates on the night stand.

Tyson:Food acquired. Hope you’re hungry, it’s enough to feed a small army. Be there soon.

I try to ignore my racing pulse as I step into the hot water, scrubbing myself from head to toe with my vanilla-scented body wash and taking extra care shaving. Once I’m clean and smooth, I towel off and rub on the matching vanilla lotion. It leaves a faint shimmer on my skin. This is not a date, so I dress in a matching lounge set and give my hair a rough blow-dry, going for casual but still sexy.

Five minutes to six. I relight the candle and start a pot of coffee, though the last thing my fragile nerves need right now is more caffeine.

Knock knock knock. I open the door, flinging it open with a little too much force. Tyson stands in the doorway, flowers in one hand and heavy looking bags of food in the other. I take the flowers and hold them to my nose, breathing in the smell of them. It’s like spring in the middle of wintertime.

“Do you have a vase?” he asks, following me inside. He puts the food down on the counter and a heavenly smell of carbs wafts up from the bags, overpowering the scent from the flowers.

“I have a big cup.” I grab an old plastic soda cup from the top shelf and fill it with water while Tyson unwraps the flowers.

“I should’ve known.” He sighs and sets the flowers in the makeshift vase.

“They’re still beautiful.” I hug him, leaning into his chest and breathing in the familiar musky cologne. He bends to press a kiss against the top of my head. “You didn’t have to, though.”

“I wanted to.” He pulls open the bags of food and I get the dishes down from the cabinets and silverware from the drawer. “Branching out tonight. Indian food.”

I peer into the bags. “And dessert?”

He snatches a smaller bag off the countertop before I can open it and holds it over my head. “Is for later.”

“Fine,” I pout as he tucks the bag into the fridge.

We share the food, lounging on the couch with my legs splayed over his lap.

“I missed you,” he says, rubbing his hands up my leg.

“I missed you too.” I lean forward to kiss him.

Suddenly, it’s not enough. I need to feel more of him, more than only his lips on mine or his legs beneath me. I toss my fork onto the table and crawl into his lap, wrapping my arms around his neck as his hands slide under my shirt. I’m not wearing a bra and his hands move immediately to cup my tight breasts. He massages them firmly in his powerful palms my breathing becomes heavy. I’m needy and impatient, and I yank his shirt up over his head as I trail kisses over his neck and chest. I feel him growing hard underneath me, his thick erection pressing against my butt as he gently strokes my nipples with his fingertips.

As I take my lips from his chest, he pulls my shirt over my head and leans forward to catch my nipple between his lips, sucking, and biting gently. I fist my fingers in his hair, tugging his head backward as I gyrate my butt forward and backward against his hardness. I can’t get enough of him so I drop one leg to the floor so my wetness presses directly against his leg, and I continue gyrating my hips. The rubbing against his leg and the magic of his tongue on my nipples is almost enough to make me come. As if reading my mind, he slides his hand beneath my waistband and circles my clit with the tip of his finger. Pressure builds until I can’t control myself, grinding into his erection and against the press of his hand.

“Is that all it takes?” His taunting voice against my ear is the final stroke. I come, biting his shoulder to stifle my cries as my body unravels.

When I can breathe again, I go for his zipper.

“Hang on,” he says, and with one movement he scoops me into his arms and gets to his feet. He carries me to the bedroom.

“What’s wrong with the couch?” I ask.

“We’re going to need more space.” He kicks the door open with his foot and lays me down on the bed.

I shiver, the air from the ceiling fan cool on my bare skin. Tyson takes his time, though I’m squirming for his touch. He traces his fingertip over the goosebumps circling my nipples.

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