She’s been extra quiet lately, even more withdrawn than usual, and it worries the shit out of me. I want to reach out, brush my fingers across her cheek and ask her to tell me what’s wrong.
I want to make her smile.
She never smiles.
I wonder what she’s doing right now… is she out with friends? Watching TV? Is she texting with a guy, smiling at her phone and giggling?
Shaking my head, I snap out of the spiral. It’s so easy to get wrapped up in anger when I think of her with another man, even though I have no real claim on her.
Sometimes —even though I know it’s fucked up— I’ll go for a girl with black hair just like hers, and fuck the girl from behind just so I can imagine it’s her moaning in my bed and begging for more.
Although I’m sure it can’t compare to the real thing.
We may not speak, but I feel like I know her. She’s smart, wicked smart, and when she smiles, I know it’s real. They may be a rare sighting, but when they do happen… god.
There’s a kind of pain that always lingers around her, one that I recognize as loneliness and despair.
We would understand each other. I just know it.
“Last door on the left,” Blair tells Paisley.
The football team lives here, and even though we may not be super close with them, they let us use their spare room for… special occasions.
Blair spins her around the second we step into the room, pinning her against the wall and kissing down her neck towards her tits.
She makes eye contact with me the entire time, that blonde hair of hers hanging down one shoulder, taunting me with a reminder that she isn’t who I truly want.
“Does he have to do all the work?” Paisley teases, pulling the straps of her tight dress off her shoulders and letting it fall to the ground.
A groan escapes my lips, staring at her perky tits and salivating at the thought of what it would feel like to suck on them.
“Her skin is so soft,” Blair mumbles, continuing to kiss lower down her body.
Fuck it.
I race towards them, capturing her lips in a kiss and grabbing a handful of her chest, rolling a nipple in between my fingers.
Her hips snap forward, and she moans into my mouth. “Don’t stop,” she begs to Blair, and when I look down, I see he’s slid her panties down her legs to give him free access to her bare pussy.
He grins up at her, fingers disappearing between her legs, “someone’s greedy.”
Her head nods, unable to speak as he pushes inside her.
I chuckle to myself when her eyes roll to the back of her head. Blair’s face disappears as he licks her, causing another string of moans and curses to tumble out of her mouth.
One thing about Blair? He likes to take control.
In every other part of his life, he slinks into the shadows, hiding away out of sight so he can observe.
But in the bedroom? He’s front and centre.
The first time we did this, we fought to be the dominant one. Eventually, I realized that no matter how hard I tried, he would always come out on top.
Ialsorealized that he needed it more than I did. I just want to feel good, and he wants to know we’re under his control.
Heneedsto know we’re under his control.
Goosebumps erupt over her skin, and without another word, the three of us move to the bed. Our clothes are ripped off in a frenzy of tangled limbs and rushed movements.
