“I had no idea that I do that. But it does make sense. Most of our TV shows were American too. Huh.” I shake myself out of the rumination. “Speaking of Trey, is he American?”
Brad makes a sound of denial as he shakes his head. “Canadian. He’s from Toronto. Transferred over to Exeter Uni in his second year and decided he liked it enough to stay and finish his degree here.”
“Are you guys doing the same course? Is that how you met?”
“No, Trey’s doing a Sports Science degree, but he’s also an avid surfer, so we actually met at the beach. Got to talking and discovered we went to the same uni. One of the guys who was originally going to move into this house had pulled out at the last minute, so we had a spare room, and Trey was hating halls so…he moved in with the three of us and that was that.”
“I love that he’s become your best mate from that chance encounter,” I grin. “How is uni going anyways? You only have two months left, right?”
He puts his empty bowl on the floor next to him and grabs one of my feet to start massaging it.
“Six weeks, actually. It's going well. I feel like I'm in a good place with my coursework and exams. Honestly, I can't wait to be done at this point now.”
His thumbs smooth over a particularly sore spot on the ball of my foot. Fuck me, I might just move in if I get orgasms, dessert, and foot massages all the time. The moan I let out has his eyes snapping up and darkening.
“Careful, Blaze. I'm trying to let you rest before round three, but you're making it hard. Literally.” As evidenced by the huge bulge in his boxers. His SpongeBob patterned boxers. We barely got dressed to come downstairs and eat, and I wholeheartedly appreciate the view – he’s such an effortless mix of sexy and adorable. I'm just wearing my knickers and one of Brad's t-shirts, which also seems to get his motor running, since he threw me back on the mattress and ate me out until I screamed when I first put this shirt on.
I clear my throat to try and dissipate the lust in my veins, because I'm too full from dinner and everything is still too sensitive. I really need that break.
“What's the plan after you graduate? I don't think I asked before,” I ask as I savour the last bite of my dessert, the buttery crumble dissolves on my tongue as the soft, creamy vanilla ice cream tempers the tart apple. My eyes flutter shut as I sigh.
He swaps his ministrations to my other foot and I'm practically jelly at this point. I place my bowl on the floor so I don't drop it in my hazy state.
“Well, I'll need to either keep working at the bar or find something else for a few years whilst I save up some capital. The dream is to open my own beach bar.”
“Oh wow, that’s so cool! Do you have an area in mind?”
“I’d like it to be in Devon, so ideally St Pyre.”
“That sounds great, but a lot of work. And you'll need some serious capital for St Pyre. I love the beach there, but I can't imagine it's particularly cheap.”
He watches me for a moment and I realise that all sounded kind of negative. “Sorry, I didn't mean for that to sound so pessimistic. I think it's wonderful that you have a goal in mind so you know exactly what you're working towards.”
A small smile lifts the corner of his mouth, but his brow is still furrowed, and all I want to do is take back whatever I said to cause it.
I'm about to blurt more apologies when he utters, “My grandfather left all of us grandkids an inheritance, but only to be accessed once we turn twenty-five. I don't want to rely on it, though, so I'll work my arse off to save what I can myself, first. And if the right property happens to come up before I'm ready, then I'll apply for a bank loan. I already have my business plan written up.”
I'm stunned for a moment. He has such a mature outlook, it's easy for me to forget our age gap when we're alone like this. “That's incredible, Brad. I know it'll be a roaring success. After all, I've experienced firsthand that when you set your mind on something, your persistence is unmatched.”
The furrow in his brow smooths away, and the most mischievous smile takes over.
“No,” I wag my finger at him. “Whatever you're thinking, no.”
His grin only widens as his hands start to slide up my shins. “What ever do you mean, Blaze? What makes you believe I'm thinking of anything at all?”
“Because! You have Loki Face right now. And the last time you had Loki Face around me, I ended up spending an entire weekend in your tent!”
His laugh vibrates through my feet where they're now resting on his chest, and travels up my legs towards his wandering hands. “Loki Face, huh?”
“Yep,” I pop the p, “pure, unadulterated mischief.”
Brad suddenly sits upright and yanks my ankles so my body slides down to lie flat on the sofa, my knees on either side of his hips. That grin is still plastered firmly on his face as he prowls forward to hover over me completely and he pulls my shirt up and over my head.
“Brad,” I warn. Or maybe moan? It always seems to be a toss-up when he’s involved. “You said you were going to let me rest.”
“Ah, I never said how long for, though. There is no rest for the wicked, and you, my dear, have been very wickedly reminding me all evening that being inside you is my favourite pastime. Even over surfing at this point.”
He rubs his bulge over my pussy, the fabric between us increasing the friction as he takes a nipple gently between his teeth. I feel hypnotised by his sea-green gaze; he hasn't once looked away.
