I was one hundred percent sure prim-and-proper Sawyer was secretly dirty like that.
Fuck, it had been far too long since my last rim job. The visual of Sawyer forcing me onto the bed, spreading my cheeks, and diving in…mmph. That was more than enough to get me there. As the orgasm shot through me, I arched up, distantly registering that the shower had turned off. I fucked into my fist, imagining riding all the way to a massive orgasm on his talented tongue.
“Hendrix—” Sawyer said, walking in, a pristine white towel clinging to his trim waist. His eyes widened as cum rifled from the tip of my cock. He turned on his heel. “Fuck.”
That cracked my shit up.God, I’m a mess, I thought, running my fingers through the spunk. An evil part of me wanted to tell him I’d come with the thought of his tongue in my ass.
Even I wasn’t that stupid, though.
“It’s okay, Sawyer,” I called out. “There comes a time in every boy’s life when he?—”
“Shut up!” he snarled, slamming the door behind him.
“We can talk about it, Sawyer,” I yelled. “I’m an open book.”
“Then close it,” he yelled back. It sounded like he was banging his head on the door.
I giggled at his distress, hopped out of bed, and swung the door open. Sawyer, halfway through a head bang, fell toward me. Kinda like a cat switching positions in midair, he twisted to avoid me. Unlike a cat, however, he landed on his ass, staring up at me with a look I couldn’t describe if you paid me a million dollars.
I bit my lower lip, appreciating the way his towel had fallen open, exposing his package. God, I loved a soft cock and loose balls. Sure, hard and ready to blow was always a good time, butmm. Velvety, clean skin just out of the shower?
He snarled and covered himself. Pity.
I stroked my spent cock, knowing it’d make his left eye twitch. “Jesus, Agnes. What the hell am I going to do with you?”
CHAPTER 12
sawyer
I was banging my forehead against Hendrix’s door, holding on by a fraying thread. Seeing how he looked when he came was so much worse—read:better—than I’d ever imagined.
As insane as Hendrix was, I somehow hadn’t anticipated he’d open the goddamned door, unclothed and covered in cum.
I rotated, lost my balance, and landed on the floor, looking up at a laughing, very naked Hendrix, his pale, tattooed belly shiny from his spend.
Christ. I grabbed the ends of my towel and pulled them together, trying for even one iota of decorum.
“Jesus, Agnes. What the hell am I going to do with you?”
The last vestige of my self-control began to unravel as he stretched his foreskin over his sticky, retreating dick. I’d been killing myself over these last few months to help him out, and all I’d gotten from him was attitude and jokes and pushing at my every fucking button. I’d even started meditating, for fuck’s sake.
But he couldn’t just let me walk out. He couldn’t keep his goddamn mouth shut. No. He had to mock me yet again.
I scrambled to right myself, my chest heaving, my ass sore, and my hands itching to break his fucking neck. My towel almost slipped again, but I caught it in time and carefully resecured it, which he found hilarious.
When he saw my expression, though, the laughter cut out like somebody yanking a needle off a record. He took a step back, causing my lower belly to tighten. My half-hard cock plumped behind the soft terry cloth.
He started to open his trap, and I cut him off at the pass. “Shut up, Hendrix.”
“Dude, I was just jerking off. It’s no big deal.”
“Shutup, Hendrix.”
“Agnes,” he started, and my vision went white. “We havegotto get you laid?—”
I thrust my hand out, grabbing his throat.
“Shut the fuck up,” I said through gritted teeth, tightening my grip. He could still breathe, I made sure of it, but his eyes were round as saucers. Maybenowhe would fucking pay attention.
