Olly
Lacey lied to me.
No matter how hard she tried to hide it, there was no missing the low hum of a vibrator coming from her side of the call last night.
My Lovely Lacey—a sweet, delicate name for such a dirty mind. How could she compose hot-as-fuck stories on the page and hide behind her blush in reality?
Such a sexy contradiction I can never get enough of.
That sweet little buzz was all I could hear when I woke this morning, knowing her pussy was wet because of me… Fuck.
Video calling her last night was a risk. It’s one thing to tell her about my hookups and another to show her. But when she talked about switching genres, I snapped.
How many guys are lucky enough to have a female friend he can relay every sexual fantasy and hookup to without sounding like a pervert?
No one, because there is only one Lacey Wright, and she is all mine.
She’s as dirty as I am horny, but she needs a push to shatter that innocence so the wildfire she keeps hidden beneath her blush can come moaning to the surface.
She needs to fuck.
The morning crowd of students weaves around the campus, navigating to classes, as I wait by our usual spot, anticipation making me restless. I need to see her.
She appears in the crowd, hair the color of chocolate and enticingly thick.
Running my hands through it is the sweetest torture.
Reminding myself not to grip and pull is a constant struggle.
I drag my gaze down her body, enjoying my uninterrupted view from a distance. Soft angles sloping down her neck draw my attention to the dip of her collarbone, then lower to the enticing bounce of her tits as they jiggle beneath her white tank top, drawing the eye of every fucker she walks past.
And she doesn’t even notice.
Heat pulses in my balls, my zipper straining. I bite my bottom lip and discreetly rearrange my junk. Today isn’t the first time I’ll start class with a boner. Being friends with a walking wet dream has made me a pro at hiding them.
Lacey catches me staring, a soft blush coloring her neck, dusting the supple flesh beneath.
Is she thinking about last night? Did she dream about me? I suck in a deep breath, desperate for any hint of pussy still lingering on her fingers, even though she’s too far away to smell.
She stops in front of me, skin colored in her emotions, reminding me of strawberry ice cream. I’d beg her for a taste if I didn’t love her so much,
Her smile is shy. “Hey.”
“Hello, Lovely Lacey.” I slide my arm over her shoulder because it’s our routine and because I can’t stand to be so close and not touch her. I brush my nose against her forehead andbreathe in. There’s no hint of strawberry, but her floral scent is better than coffee or cherry cola.
She looks up at me with that shy smile that makes me feel like a kid noticing girls for the first time.
I give her a seductive one in return. “Did you enjoy your show last night?”
Her chest heaves as she sucks in a surprised breath and holds it. From this angle, I can see tiny points tenting her shirt.
She nods, her skin crimson now.
I grin into her hair.
“We should…” She points toward the open doors of the lecture hall.
Following her lead, we walk into the room and find two empty seats in the middle row.
