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“Nah, I prefer to fuckyouinstead,” I bug him, biting his bottom lip. “C’mon, Stan. I’m waiting.”
He closes his eyes for a couple of seconds and nods.
“Good. I’m okay now.” On purpose, I clench my inner muscles around his shaft. He clings to my butt again as if it was the only thing keeping him in control. “Don’t do that again unless you’re fucking coming on my dick.”
A snicker grazes my lips, and I kiss him, rolling my hips in circles, feeling him reaching parts of me that I didn’t remember that existed. One of Stanley’s hands abandons my ass and moves to my pussy, brushing his thumb against my clit.
My head falls on his shoulder, moaning in his ear as I ride him in a fast and sloppy rhythm. If this moment were my jail, I’d gladly become a prisoner. I’m trapped in the pleasure, mesmerized by the way he fills me and pumps his hips, meeting mine. My impulsivity caused this instant, but I don’t regret it for a second.
Stanley McKinley will never be something that I regret.
“Fuck, babe,” he whispers in my ear.
“I’m close,” I tell him, meeting his gaze. His eyes are on flames, consumed by the moment and the way that our bodies are trying to find release.
“Yeah?”
Stan grabs a handful of my hair, making me arch my back. His mouth is pressing wet kisses along the curve of my neck, and I can’t stop moaning and whimpering. He fucks me harder and faster; his thumb is circling my clit in quick circles. Without repressing it, I shatter in a thousand pieces; the orgasm hits me like a whip. My sight fogs, I tense around him, and a long moan abandons my lips as I succumb to the ecstasy. All of my thoughts stop, and the only thing that I can do is move my hips, even when I’m hypersensitive, and my body is trembling.
The feeling possesses me.
I want him to come.
“Stan, do it,” I encourage him to take his pleasure, to take what he needs from my body to come apart.
And he does.
Stanley gives in to the electricity of the moment and groans as he absorbs his orgasm. I ride his release until he grabs my hips, stopping me altogether. He cups my face, kissing me tenderly.
Cautiously, I let my forehead fall against his. Staring at him, I enjoy this intimate moment while we go back to reality. The only thing that can be heard in the car is the sound of our irregular breaths, trying to recover from what just happened.
“You’re fucking amazing, Bree,” he says.
I can’t help the smile that draws on my face.
Cuddling against him, I feel his chest rise and fall peacefully. In this moment, in the middle of an empty and dark parking lot, I know Stanley is probably the only one keeping me sane from the constant chaos that surrounds me.
If I had the chance to choose my permanent future, I know that everything would be uncertain, except for him. Stanley would be permanent for me.
Chapter Twenty-Five
Stanley’s hand intertwines with mine as he parks. The red neon sign has the letters “MANTRA” in the front, inviting the public to come in, acting like a beacon, attracting people to its deck. Beside me, Stanley has a permanent smile, and I’m sure that I look the same. The sweet memory of what happened in the car half an hour ago makes a warm wave spread through my system, lust making its way back, reminding me that I haven’t felt this connection to anyone before.
Everything happened weirdly. Not that I’m complaining. We’ve never been the traditional kind. Ever since the beginning, we were destined to be a different kind. This chemistry that we have was unexpected. Hell, if someone had told me that my feelings would have a name by November, I would’ve laughed. But now I don’t resist what I feel. It’s hard to do it when every ounce of my system is yearning for him, screaming to keep him close.
It’s crazy that I have such strong feelings towards him when two months ago, we could barely stand each other. I continuously remember our first interaction at the party when I still thought that he was a selfish asshole. It feels like it was centuries ago, and I was wrong to judge him when I didn’t even know who he was deep down.
Stanley McKinley is probably the best guy I’ve ever met in my life. I enjoy his presence, our banters, and the way we can talk about anything and everything at the same time. He accepts everything that I am without judging me.
Stan is everything that I needed before I realized that I wanted him in my life.
As he turns off the car, my curiosity increases, wanting to understand why Stanley is so fond of this place. It’s a bar. It looks like any other bar from the outside. What makes this any different?
“Why this place?” I question, genuinely intrigued to know.
Stanley told me that he had visited this place more times than he can remember. On our way here, he expressed how much this place distracts him when he’s not feeling okay, and that is a safe haven from all of the craziness that can surround him. But I don’t getwhy.
“Why not?” he retorts, tilting his head.
