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After I bought it for him, along with the rest of his sugary treasures, he threw his arms around me and whispered, “Thank you for being so nice to me.” For some reason, that made my heart ache.

We walked back to his house hand-in-hand. I carried the shopping bag, while he cradled the little piñata in one arm and assured me he’d never, ever smash it with a stick.

Four of Lark’s housemates were seated in the living room when we got home. There were introductions all around, and we chatted a bit while Lark put some of the groceries in the refrigerator. They were all very friendly and welcoming, and I liked them right away.

When Lark returned to the living room, JoJo invited us to play cards with them. “Next time,” Lark said. “I want Dylan to myself tonight.” He turned to me and added, “I mean, if that’s okay with you.”

I told him that was perfect, and after we all said good night, I followed him upstairs. His room was exactly what I’d expected—cheerful, colorful, and pure Lark. I’d glimpsed a little of it that first night when he’d been on camera, but that hadn’t quite prepared me for the full effect.

In many ways, it was the exact opposite of my loft. The walls were a sunny shade of yellow, there were rainbow-striped curtains on the large window, and every single surface was covered with stuff, including a lot of hats and other accessories that went with his costumes.

“I’m sorry,” he said. “I know this place is a cluttered mess, but I don’t have any place to put my stuff. The closet’s tiny, and the armoire is already overflowing.”

“I need to build you some shelves. They could fill that entire wall, and then you could get all of this stuff organized.” I gestured to the far side of the room as I said that, but then I turned to him and added, “I didn’t intend that as a criticism. You can obviously do whatever you want with your room, and I’m probably overstepping.”

“You’re not. It’s sweet that you want to help, and I’d love some shelves in here. Is that really something you’d want to do, though?”

“I’d love it. My dad and I used to build stuff all the time at our old house. Once, we even built a little studio in the backyard for my mom, so she’d have a quiet place to read.”

Lark smiled at me. “I’ll ask Yolanda if it’s okay in the morning.”

“Great. If she says yes I’ll take some measurements, and we can plan out what we want to build.” I was really excited about this idea, not just because I wanted to do something nice for Lark, but because it’d been a while since I’d had a project to look forward to.

After we took turns in the bathroom and got ready for bed, we slipped under the covers in our underwear. He was cradling the little piñata, but when I told him it would probably get crushed during the night, he placed it on the nightstand. We shifted around and got comfortable, and as he rested his head on my bicep, he sighed contentedly.

“This has been a perfect night,” he whispered. I had to agree.

We spent a long time talking about any random thing that came to mind before he fell asleep in my arms. As I kissed his forehead, I was struck by an overwhelming need to take care of and protect this sweet, precious person.

Not that Lark wanted that from me. I got the impression he kept trying to show me he could take care of himself. But it didn’t change how I felt.

17

Lark

Even though I loved the fact that our last date was pure sweetness, by the next one I was a man on a mission. I needed Dylan to fuck me. Like, it had to happen. I was so horny that failure to get dick was not an option.

Since that fantastic but very chaste night he’d spent at my house, Dylan had worked another shift and was once again on his first of two days off. He’d wanted to cook me dinner that evening, but I’d managed to talk him into taking it easy by getting something delivered instead. I didn’t want anything burning on the stove while I threw myself at him.

Our date was at six, and my ride share pulled up in front of his building with two minutes to spare. When Dylan buzzed me in, I rushed into the lobby and juggled my unicorn backpack as I stripped off my red, oversized sweater. The outfit underneath was anything but subtle. I was wearing a skin-tight sheer tank top and satin shorts with my high-heeled glitter ankle boots, all in black. The only way I could have been more obvious about what I wanted would have been to arrive naked with “do me” written on my ass cheeks.

Dylan answered the door looking as effortlessly sexy as ever in jeans and a form-fitting dark blue T-shirt. He laughed when I tossed my things aside and flung myself into his arms. Then I kissed him, and he returned the kiss just as passionately before picking me up and carrying me to the couch.

We fumbled with each other’s clothes, stripping them off as he kissed my lips, my throat, and each part of my body as he uncovered it. There was no question he wanted me—not just because of the obvious erection pressing against me as I straddled his lap. I also saw it in the way his hands trembled, his breath caught when I licked his earlobe, and his heart pounded when I pressed my hand to his chest. I was already wildly turned on, but seeing and feeling the way he reacted to me was like gasoline on a fire.

As soon as we were naked, I grasped his cock and mine with one hand and jerked us off together, which made him throw his head back and moan. Then he leaned forward so his forehead was resting against mine and rasped, “I need to be in you.” I climbed off his lap, and as I dashed across the apartment he asked, “Where are you going?”

All I could manage was, “Rubbers.” I quickly retrieved my backpack, then emptied its contents onto the coffee table and sorted through the stuff I’d brought with both hands.

He chuckled and said, “You came prepared.” Besides a huge box of condoms and three types of lube, I’d also brought several sex toys.

“Damn right I did,” I told him, as I climbed back onto his lap with some supplies.

I tore off the wrapper and tossed it aside before unrolling a condom down his length, and then I slicked it with lube before positioning myself with his cock pressed against my hole. “We didn’t prep you,” he said, as I started to lower myself onto his hard-on.

“I already took care of that before I came over.”

He grinned and asked, “And you didn’t let me watch?”

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