Chapter 69
Gage
“Hey! You can’t just take all the goddamn ice cream,” Miguel yelled from the doorway, voice already threaded with mock–outrage as I dug through the freezer like it owed me money.
“I’m not taking it all,” I called back without looking up. “I’m leaving the licorice one–that s**t is an affront to dessert.”
After three hours of pretending to study while really watching Bree’s face as she read, I was ready to collapse onto my bed, press my body into hers, and make the next hour a festival of stupid movies and sticky spoons. The plan was simple: cuddle, eat myself into a sugar coma, and then devour her in every way I could without getting arrested for public indecency. After her forty minutes with Dr. Playton-“Clyde,” she’d called him, and I’d made some private joke about the name being a crime–she’d come back lighter, like something big had finally been set down. I loved that for her. I wanted to be the guy who could do that for her, but that wasn’t always how things worked. So tonight, if nothing else, I would be blanket, shoulder, kitchen chef, joke–slinger, and whatever else she needed.
“Don’t hate on my ice cream, man, that’s just not cool,” Miguel said, taking the moral high ground while standing in three inches of floor he’d yet to bother cleaning. He wore nothing but a pair of shorts and the kind of swagger that made me glad he wasn’t a serial killer.
I shut the freezer, turning slowly. Miguel’s chest hit the air like a billboard: tanned skin, damp hair, the casual arrogance of a guy who thinks the world was designed to look good on him. He’d come in on a scholarship, all tidy and shut–in during freshman year, and we’d peeled his shell back. Now he was loud and loud–apostrophe–s proud of it.
“Have you ever heard of a shirt?” I asked, c*****g a brow as I lined up bowls on a tray.
He snorted. “When have you ever worn a shirt here? Sophomore year, you basically lived in boxers.”
I rolled my eyes and reached for the caramel sauce, trying to steer the conversation away from my closet choices and back to the task at hand: feeding my girlfriend until she was too blissed–out to correct my terrible movie taste.
“Oh my god,” Miguel breathed, then flashed a grin that was way too big for someone who’d only recently learned subtlety. “You don’t want Bree seeing me like this, do you?”
“Plea-” I started, but he cut me off with the sort of confidence that was mildly criminal.
“I cannot control your woman, man,” he said, swaggering over and leaning against the
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counter as if the world was his and everyone else was invited. “I mean, I’m a Latino god. She might prefer caramel to vanilla, and I’m just here to, you know, facilitate research.”
“Shut up,” I growled, more through habit than actual threat. It was all in good fun–until the idea of someone else looking at my girl the way I did bubbled into a hot feeling behind my ribs. Then I got a little less tolerant.
“Oh, little man,” Miguel laughed, shaking his head. “You’re so far gone for her–and I respect that. But if I don’t want to wear a shirt, I’m not wearing a shirt.”
Before I could finish mentally composing a threat worthy of a two–hundred–pound linebacker, Bree’s voice floated down the hall like the single most dangerous thing on earth.
“Gage! I know you might hate it, but can we watch The Kissing Booth? I just think it’s the sweetest movie ever,” she called, the words handed with such saccharine that even my stoic heart stuttered.
Miguel’s grin widened until it seemed like his face might split. “Yeah, Gage. Zoey King does exceptional work in that one.”
“Thank your lucky stars, Kenneth is insufferable to live with,” I muttered, plucking spoons from the drawer and dropping them into the bowls with satisfying clinks. “Otherwise he’d be here, and you’d be back at Blakely.”
He laughed and waved a hand. “You’re the lucky one. I’m volunteering for Comic Relief. Or taste–testing. Whichever.”
By the time I cleared the last jar of hot fudge and slapped the tray together, I was moving down the hall like some dessert–bearing trophy. The dorm smelled faintly of old pizza, laundry detergent, and the kind of nerves you only get when someone you love is within kissing distance after a day of war with your shitty brain.
Bree lay under my duvet, her knees tucked up, remote clutched in one hand, the TV paused on the splashy poster of a rom–com. Even with the dim blue light and her hair in a careless halo, she was impossible. Her glasses slid halfway down her nose, one temple catching a lock of hair she’d failed to tuck back. Her smile when she saw me carried a tremor of relief I felt in my bones.
“I know it’s a chick–flick,” she said, voice hush–fine, “but I’d… I’d like to watch it with you.”
There was something about the way she asked–not a beg, not a negotiation–that made my chest do that stupid pressure thing. I set the tray down beside the bed and leaned in until the scent of her–the delicious fruity shampoo, a faint hint of sweetness–knocked the world into focus.
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“We can watch whatever you want, gorgeous,” I murmured, pressing my mouth to hers for a quick, fierce proof. She melted against me like sunlight on snow. I pushed the lock on the door, because Miguel’s idea of privacy was as flimsy as his laundry habits, and there was no way in hell I wanted an audience for what I planned to do to her between the movie’s questionable plot beats.
Turned out I loved chick–flicks. Or at least I surely didn’t mind watching this one with Bree, and I especially loved the fact that she wanted to share it with me. I loved how she had simply surrendered to the fact that I was the world’s most clingy boyfriend, leaning on me as I fed her cookie–dough ice cream with a caramel drizzle on it.
She hummed contentedly, her eyes closed, her glasses digging slightly into my chest. And while I was actually interested in the movie, listening to Bree sigh like that made my thoughts diverge into something completely different.
“You enjoying yourself, gorgeous?” I asked, my tone low, as I looked at her.
“So much,” she answered, her blue eyes opening up to look right at me. “Are you?”
“So much,” I muttered, leaning down, before I captured her lips.
Then she made that same noise against my lips, and I was a f*****g goner. The bowl ended up next to me, Bree’s hands in my hair, and me leaning down on top of her. Our tongues mingled together; the sweetness from the caramel and the coldness from the ice only made it so much better.
I had to have her.
My hands found her hips, moving underneath her t–shirt, pushing it upwards as my lips never left hers. She arched underneath me, making it easier for me to push it up. Then my hands flew to the strings tying together her shorts, pulling them apart, before I started tugging down, ridding her of her underwear at the same time.
“Gage,” she sighed, my name muffled against her lips.
“I wanna try something, gorgeous,” I said, pushing up, sitting between her legs, seeing her core already glistening slightly for me. “Do you trust me?” I asked, my eyes locking with hers, wanting to make sure she was comfortable.
She bit down on her lip before she nodded her head, moving to sit up slightly, so she could pull her shirt off properly. As she did, I reached back and pulled mine off as well, not wanting to cover up an inch for her.
My hand reached for the chocolate sauce, as the other grabbed a hold of the back of her knee, spreading her legs for me. Bree’s eyes widened, but she complied nonetheless, still
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< Chapter 69
letting me do as I pleased.
“Are you-” Her question got cut off, as I opened up the bottle, turned it over, and then let the thick chocolate sauce drip down right between her legs.
“Oh God,” she muttered, her body jerking slightly, as I let the chocolate move up her thigh, creating the perfect trail.
“You look f*****g magnificent, gorgeous,” I said, my eyes festering on the creation I had
made.
I closed the bottle back up before I threw it onto the bed, leaning down and getting comfortable. I was going to lick every f*****g ounce of chocolate right off of her, and she was going to enjoy every second of it.
“Gage, I-” she stopped to let out a moan, as my tongue slid down her thigh, taking the sauce with me as I went.
“You what, gorgeous?” I asked, sucking on her skin, letting my tongue dart out to get every taste of chocolate.
I looked up from between her legs, her blue eyes locked on me, her pupils blown wide. Without missing a beat, I leaned back down, still keeping eye contact, as my tongue swept through her folds, tasting a mixture of both chocolate and her.
A deep groan left her lips, her eyes rolling to the back of her head. “God, this is so hot,” she whimpered, making me grin even wider.
I returned to my task at hand, licking every inch of her, making sure no sauce was left on her skin. Bree moaned, she trembled, she grabbed my hair, and she begged me not to stop. My tongue swirled around her clit, making sure she would have an earthshattering orgasm before I would find my release inside of her.
When she gushed, her orgasm wracking through her, I wasted no time, climbing up her body, plucking my c**k from my shorts, before I slid right into her, watching her mouth form the most perfect little ‘o‘ as I did.
A groan left my own lips as I felt how she tightened around me. I hid my face in the crook of her neck, her legs wrapping tightly around me, as if she was afraid I would somehow stop. But I couldn’t make myself do that, not when I had my perfect girl right underneath me, sucking my c**k even further into her wet heat.
Instead, I started moving slowly, not pulling out, but simply grinding myself on her, something I knew made her absolutely feral.
< Chapter 69
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“God, yes, Gage,” she moaned, her nails raking up and down my spine, hopefully leaving marks I could wear for practice tomorrow.
“You’re so f*****g perfect, gorgeous,” I rasped out, leaning back up to look into her eyes. “So ******g perfect for me.”
She moaned as I yet again ground into her. “I love you,” she panted, repeating the words over and over again, until I made her c*m yet again.
And me? I felt like I was on top of the f*****g world.
Emilia M
Well, chapter 69 had to be something special, right?
For those of you also reading My Dark Obsession: My Brother’s Best Friends, I won’t be able to post a chapter tonight, but I will be back tomorrow! My schedule just got so backed up
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