AllFreeNovel
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"Sinners are always welcome at our table," I declare, and we all laugh, the sound mingling with the clinking of cutlery and the soft hum of the world outside our door.
"Speaking of sinning," Dylan starts, a wicked gleam in his eye, "I caught a glimpse of your latest stream. That final boss fight—brutal."
My pulse quickens, a mix of pride and adrenaline. "Had to pull out all the stops. The chat was going wild."
"Nothing you can't handle," Nova says, her hand finding mine under the table, a silent message of faith that sends warmth radiating through me.
"True," I acknowledge, squeezing her hand back. "But it's better with my cheer squad."
"Always here to cheer," Dylan affirms, nodding in solidarity.
"Or jeer," Nova adds playfully, winking at me.
"Both are appreciated," I assure them, feeling a swell of gratitude for these moments of levity amidst the chaos of our intertwined lives.
"Good," Dylan says, pushing his now empty plate away. "Because there's plenty more where that came from."
"Wouldn't have it any other way," I reply, the weight of our shared history settling around us like a cloak, comforting and undeniably ours.
* * *
The morning after Dylan's visit, I wake to an empty bed. The sheets are cool where Nova should be, her scent lingering like a ghost. Sunlight filters through the blinds, casting striped shadows across the room. My heart beats a familiar rhythm of anticipation. It's not every day you plan to spring a surprise on the girl who brought light into your life.
I slip out of bed, muscles tense with a mix of excitement and desire. In the kitchen, the note on the fridge catches my eye—Nova's handwriting curls around the words "Check the office" in a playful dance. A smile tugs at my lips as I pad barefoot across the wooden floor.
In the office, there it is: the limited edition controller for my favorite game, sleek and waiting. "Holy hell…" I murmur, my fingers tracing the contours with reverence. She remembered.
"Happy early anniversary," Nova's voice floats from the doorway, husky and laced with amusement.
I turn to see her, all sun-kissed skin and disheveled hair, wrapped in one of my oversized shirts. It barely covers the curve of her thighs, and the sight sends heat curling through me. "You're amazing, you know that?" I say, crossing the room in two strides to pull her into my arms.
"Only trying to keep up with you." Her laugh is breathless as I press her against the wall. Her lips find mine, and it's a heady rush of need that consumes us both, tongues tangling in a dance as old as time.
"Tonight," I whisper against her mouth, "I've got plans for us."
"Can't wait," she breathes, arching into me as my hands roam down to grasp her thighs and hoist her up. She wraps her legs around my waist, and we move together—desperate, frantic—as if we can't get close enough.
"Blaze…" Her voice breaks on my name, filling the space with a plea that I feel echoed in every fiber of my being.
"Nova," I answer, a vow and a promise all in one.
We stumble toward the bedroom, shedding clothes and inhibitions along the way. When we fall onto the bed, it's a tangle of limbs and heat, our bodies speaking a language beyond words. I worship every inch of her, my lips and hands mapping the terrain I know by heart but crave like new territory each time.
"God, you feel so good," she moans, her back arching off the mattress as I tease and taste, exploring the delicate ink traced over her skin. Her hands grip my hair, pulling me closer, urging me on.
"Only for you," I growl, my voice rough with desire. I'm lost in her, the rhythm we set both relentless and reverent. Our connection is electric, a current that charges the air around us and sets our world alight.
"Blaze!" The word shatters from her lips as she comes undone beneath me, her body clenching around mine in a vice that draws me over the edge with her.
"Nova…" I gasp her name like a prayer, our release mingling in a crescendo that leaves us both breathless and bound in the most primal of ways.
Later, as we lie entwined, the silence speaks volumes. There's no need for words when every touch, every shared breath tells its own story—a narrative of obsession, love, and a yearning that never dims. Tonight will be special, another chapter in the saga of Blaze and Nova. But for now, this quiet intimacy is everything.
* * *
The scent of old leather and the faint, musty aroma of comic books greets us as we step into the dimly lit arcade. It's like stepping back in time—before life got complicated, before desire became a creature with my face. The neon lights cast an otherworldly glow on Nova's blonde hair, making her seem ethereal, a siren calling me to the rocky shores of want.
"Remember this place?" Dylan slaps me on the back, his grin wide as he takes in the rows of arcade cabinets. "Man, how many quarters did we blow here back in the day?"
