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“Evie,” he growls, shaking me softly.
“Yes,” I whisper. “From around that age, I’ve had a crush on you. I was obsessed with you for a while.”
I don’t need to offer this extra information, but there’s something almost relieving about letting this all out after so many years.
“Obsessed,” he repeats, sinking his fingers firmer into my hips, pulling me toward him. I feel his manhood getting hard through his pants.
His hair has fallen over his eyes, silver wildness that gives him an animalistic presence, a hunger that has my sex aching and my core getting wet and tingly.
“Obsessed,” he says again, moving his hands from my hips to my ass.
“Y-yes,” I whimper as he begins to massage me.
I moan as he rubs my ass, driving his hips forward. He brings his lips to mine but doesn’t kiss me, holding his mouth as if breathing in my moans. There’s something like panic in his eyes. It’s like he’s deciding whether or not to kiss me, and then I decide for him.
Leaning up, I kiss him passionately, throwing my arms over his shoulders. I sense hesitation in him. He doesn’t return the kiss straight away, but his hands keep rubbing my ass, and then, with a muffled growling noise, he opens his mouth and pushes his tongue into my mouth.
We stumble toward the bed, our hands all over each other, the bedroom door wide open, and the sound of Camila and the mechanic just about audible from the front of the house. I fall onto the mattress, but he doesn’t fall with me. He stares down with his powerful chest rising and falling and his hands clenched into fists at his sides.
“Evie,” he says huskily.
“Hmm?” I sit up.
“I want this so badly. I want your virgin body. I want those big, round tits. I want your slit… fuck… so bad. I want to lick and suck your clit until your hole is nice and warm and wet for me and then drill you like you deserve. Fuck you slow at first, get your young body used to it, and then hard when I know you can take it.”
He doesn’t have to convince me that what he’s saying is true. I can see it in the outline of his manhood pushing against his pants. It’s like the zipper is going to break any second.
“I want to watch those big juicy breasts bounce for me as I fuck you, then flip you over, and…”
His hand moves as if he’s finally going to fall on me and make all these sizzling promises a reality, and then the dreaded word comes.
“But…”
He sighs darkly.
CHAPTER
THIRTEEN
Brian
Her bright dress is tangled around her thighs, showing their gorgeous thickness, hinting at her sopping slit. Her nipples are poking subtly through the material, too, my dick so hard and soaked in precome, but the notebooks are right there on the bed next to her.
He’s the most handsomest man who’s ever lived.
That’s what one line I read, with a childish heart drawn next to it. I never thought that when I was visiting this place to see my friend—when I was calling Evie kiddo—she would think anything like this.
I assumed it was all drawings and… hell, kid’s stuff.
“But what?” she whispers as she sees me looking at the notebooks.
“We can’t do this,” I say, stumbling backward. “It’s not right. You can’t think about this, about us. It’s complicated enough, with Roger—”
I cut myself off. It’s as if some primal hunger deep within is stifling my voice. My balls are still swelling and aching, with my manhood still hard. Precome is leaking, my seed desperate to be inside her curvy virgin body where it belongs.
“Oh, so you know my thoughts better than I do?” she says.
“When it comes to this,” I snap, taking another step back.
I have to create physical distance between us. Otherwise, the temptation will become too strong. I’ll leap across the room and stroke my hands all over her body, then kiss her on the lips again.
One day, he’s going to kiss me right on the lips!
Just like she always dreamed. Hell, this is too much.
She sits up, adjusting her dress. That wakes the savage in me, seeing her hand tugging at the fabric. Leaning down, I pull her dress up almost all the way, revealing her juicy thick thighs and legs made for me.
I wonder if he’d like my prom dress if he was here to judge…
The lines won’t stop bouncing around my head, taunting me, making me feel like the biggest taboo breaker in the world as I fall to my knees and start kissing her legs, tasting her sweat, focusing on her moans.
“What are you doing?” she whimpers.
I could tell her I was trying to forget what I read in the notebook by focusing on her pleasure instead. There’s a connection between us. It’s unmistakable, a song that pulses from deep inside of me and will never stop, but I can’t be sure that she feels the same because it could always spring up from her crush.
