Page 110 of Touch in the Dark

“Yes,” I state with complete conviction and a ring of authority, letting him know exactly where I stand. We stare at each other, his smile slips slightly. I step closer and put my arms around his neck. He wraps his huge hands around my waist, and I feel completely enclosed in him. He smells clean and fresh, like he’s showered, his skin is warm, I can feel him through the fabric of my jacket.

I have no intention of asking about Derrick, or his mom. If he wants to talk, he will. I get the feeling he’s done with thinking about it all right now. That’s fine by me. I step back and take some DVD’s from my bag.

“I have Netflix and Apple TV,” he says, frowning at them.

“Ah but do they have these movies?” I ask, knowing they probably don’t.

He takes the boxes. “The Die-Hard Trilogy?”

“It’s Christmas.”

“They are not Christmas movies.”

“Are too,” I step around him and walk into the living room.

It’s small, perfectly decorated and I love it. I can see him growing up here. It’s the kind of house I would have loved to grow up in, instead of the huge mansion in Beverley Hills, where my parents had their own wing away from us kids. There are family photographs all around. The place almost feels as if it’s still lived in, even though I know from Jenna it has remained empty since Doris moved to Brooklyn. He must pay someone to keep up the place. I don’t mention the picture of him and his mom on the mantlepiece, though he sees me noticing it.

I’m glad he still has this place and I’m happy he came here, wanting to be close to her.

“Even Bruce Willis agrees with me,” Nick follows me over to the TV. “He starred in it and said it isn’t a Christmas movie.”

“Not hearing you. I brought snacks.”

He hands me the disks after showing me where the DVD player is then roots around in my bag for the chips, chocolate and Dr Pepper I brought. All his favourites. I set up the first movie, kick off my sneakers and coat, and make myself comfortable. Nick drops down next to me and puts his arm around my neck. We get halfway through the first one before he starts kissing me.

All I want to do is take his mind off his problems, and I think I’ve achieved that. He crawls over me, pulling at the zipper on my jeans.

“You gonna let me get to third base?” he asks with a grin.

“You’re about to get lucky and go all the way, pretty boy,” I say, pushing my hand into those sinful sweatpants and grabbing his dick. He’s already halfway hard as I run my hand up and down it a few times, squeezing near the tip. He groans then sits back, my hand pulling out of his pants. I pout.

“Patience,” he laughs. “Need you naked.”

“Okay,” I can get on board with that.

I help out, to make things quicker. The couch isn’t that long, and his ankles are hanging over the edge when he lays on me, so he adapts. Sitting up and lifting me onto his lap, my back to his chest. He cups my breasts, squeezing and pinching the nipples as he bites my neck.

“Get on my dick,” he whispers against my ear, and I about melt into him.

Heat pools between my legs, the throb almost unbearable and my breathing hitches. Nick’s hands go around my waist and lift me up. I balance there as he lines up then I sit back down, lowering slowly, drawing tortured groans out of him as I pull him inside of me, until I’m fully seated in his lap. He leans back on the couch, and I look over my shoulder at him. He puts his hands behind his head and smirks at me.

“The curtains are open,” he says.

I gasp and look at the window. The house is not close to the street, but you can see right into the living room if you happen to pass by. It’s dark out but the light is on in here.

“Ride me hard. Let me see those tits bouncing,” he indicates our reflection in the window.

“Oh fuck,” I moan as I start to move. He grips my hips as I do as he asked, keeping my eyes on his in the reflection. One of his hands rubs up my ribcage, across my breast and over my throat. He holds it there, sitting up, pressing his chest into me as he starts to thrust up.

“Look at us,” he says against my ear. “Look at how good you fuck me,” he thrusts up harder, his words getting himself all worked up too. “You want someone to walk past, don’t you. You want someone to stop and watch me fuck you.”

“God, Nick,” I let out a long moan.

“Imagine him standing there, looking in, his eyes roaming over this amazing body, these beautiful tits,” he squeezes them, and my head drops back on his shoulder. He nips at my earlobe, grunting as I squeeze him. He takes hold of my chin and turns my face so he can kiss me. He robs me off my breath. I grasp at his thighs, his arm where its banded around me, anywhere I can get a hold of his skin. “No one else gets to touch you,” he growls. “You’re mine. This dick is the only one you ride,” he kisses me again.

“Yes, oh fucking God,” I cry out, barely able to form a coherent thought. He’s right, the role play is fun and all, but I don’t think I could ever carry out the fantasy and I don’t want to. I only want him.

“Say it, Elsa. Say this pussy is mine and only mine.”

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