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“Of course I know who Belle is. She’s the love of my life. Why wouldn’t I know who she was?” I ask him, feigning confusion.
“How can you know who Belle is and not me? I met you first!” Cal exclaims, pulling on his hair in frustration.
“By like eight seconds,” Belle mutters behind me. Willa is outright cackling and Maverick is smirking. Everyone seems to have caught on except Cal.
“Are you sure? I think I would remember if that was true. Are you like some weird fanboy or something?” I’m managing to keep a straight face, which tells me that I would actually be an amazing actor.
“Fanboy? Fanboy!” Cal’s scream is getting higher as the minutes pass, and I think he may have actually pulled some hair out of his head. “This isn’t funny! Why are you laughing? He probably forgot you too!” he yells at Willa.
I look around Cal and wave. “Hey Willa. How’s your head Mav?”
Willa laughs so hard she’s bent over, and Maverick starts to snicker. Jason and Jon are smiling at the entire scene.
“How can you remember them and not your best friend?” Cal is pacing and his face is so red he might pass out if I don’t relent soon.
“What do you mean? My best friend is right there,” I say, while pointing at Maverick.
Cal is so outraged he starts to storm away, probably just to scream.
“Cal, come back! I was kidding. I could never forget you!” I call after him. He spins around and narrows his eyes at me, like he isn’t sure if he believes me or not.
“Tell me something only you and I would know,” he says, still suspicious.
“Remember that time we played a show in Vegas, and you took these two redheads back to your room and —”
“Shh! My dad and sister are here, dude. Jesus. I believe you,” Cal says, putting his hand on my mouth to stop me from finishing my story.
Belle and I spend the next hour catching up with everyone and ignoring Cal’s glares. That’s about as much time as I had in me before my girl was ushering me out to the car and getting me home to my bed.
Belle helps me shower before we both settle in. It’s only early afternoon, but I don’t think either of us can keep our eyes open any longer. Belle tried to sleep in the guest room, scared that she was going to hurt my injured ribs in her sleep.
“I need you next to me. I won’t sleep without you, and you know it.”
She narrows her eyes but gets into bed with me anyway.
“I’ll hold your hand, but that’s as close as I’m willing to get to you until you’re healed more.”
I groan out a complaint but do as she says. Holding her hand is better than nothing. Soon I hear her breathing even out, and I know she’s asleep.
I take a second to check my emails from the PI looking into Ezra. So far, all she’s been able to dig up is peopleclaiming they saw him in a small town in New Hampshire three years ago. She’s currently following that lead. I sigh and plug my phone in before following Belle into sleep.
“Fuck.” I peel my eyes open and look down. Belle has her mouth wrapped around my cock and is sucking with a desperation I feel in my balls. “Baby,” I moan.
“I needed to feel you. I needed to taste you. You can’t move like you want to for sex, but I can still do this,” she says before descending on me again.
“Holy fuck, baby,” I moan, unable to control the way my hips thrust up into her mouth. “I’m not going to last. Your mouth feels too fucking good.” It doesn’t feel as good as her pussy, but it’s pretty close.
“Stay still or I won’t let you come,” she says, holding my dick in her hand, but not moving. I nod quickly so she’ll continue. Belle usually doesn’t take control in the bedroom, so this is a hot as fuck surprise.
I stay still like she ordered as she takes me to the back of her throat and swallows. “Fuck!” I shout. She seems to like how vocal I’ve been and moans. The vibrations are my undoing, and I shoot myself down the back of her throat. She swallows me before pulling away with a satisfied grin.
“Sorry for waking you up,” she teases.
“No. If that’s how you’re going to wake me up, always wake me up. Please. I don’t care if I just fell asleep. Wake me the fuck up.”
Belle giggles before settling into my side gently.
“It’s my turn to taste you.”
