Page 67 of Work Me


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“For your information, I’m actually going to… Ah, fuck it. Yes, I’ll be late tonight.”

There’s a hop to my step, and a wiggle to my booty as I dance my way to Dean’s room. The radio in my head is on full blast, and I sing along to “All in My Head” by Fifth Harmony. Better words to describe what I want have never been sung.

The door opens before I have a chance to knock. With the music still in my head, I sing to him, kissing the tip of his nose, then walk behind him, take him by the hips and bump my crotch against his ass a few times.

He shuts the door, looking confused, but not upset in the least.

“You’re not naked,” I complain, though I have to admit he looks almost as good in shorts that hang so low I can see the smattering of hair as it thickens near his groin.

In two seconds flat, his shorts are off. “I had to wear something when I answered the door. Unless you want someone else to see the goods.”

“Shut your mouth!”

Throwing my clothes off, I lay on the side of the bed he’s exposed, letting me know where he sleeps. There’s not much space with it being just half a bed, but it doesn’t matter.

I pat the bed. “How’s about you flex those muscles on top of me.”

He climbs between my legs, indeed flexing his arms as he holds his weight over me. I pull him down to my mouth, tasting him, running my hands over his shoulders and arms, feeling his strength.

His lips leave mine, trailing fire as he kisses his way down my throat, to my breasts.

“Bite me,” I tell him. He does as he’s told, biting a nipple until I yelp, then soothing it with a lick. “Again,” I beg.

He moves to the other breast, kissing the underside, biting his way to that nipple. I’m writhing beneath him, pumping my hips against his cock. When he takes the pebble between his teeth, I cry out in ecstasy.

Dean sits up, placing the head of his dick against my clitoris. He rubs the wetness, teasing me until I’m nearly mindless. Nay, all the way mindless. Because if my brain had been working I’d have shut my mouth. But I didn’t.

As I feel him begin to spread me, to fill me, I groan, “I’m glad we got to squeeze one last fuck in.”

He stops. Disbelief is written all over his face, as is disappointment.

“What happened?” I ask, though deep down I know exactly what.

He pulls out, leaving a huge void within me, and I don’t just mean his penis.

“Is that what this is to you? Squeezing one last fuck in?” he asks.

“What? No. Of course, not. I just meant, you know…”

“Enlighten me.”

I sit up, annoyed at myself. “Coop, you and I both know that this is the last time we’re going to be together.”

“I didn’t know that.”

“Well I did. You should take it as a compliment that I like being with you so much, I wanted to get it on one last time. To memorize you,” I say underneath my breath, running a finger down his tight abs.

Dean takes said finger, and moves it away. With a sad sigh, he gets up and points to the door. “I think you should leave.”

Shocked, I get up and start to get dressed as fast as I can. My throat is inexplicably tight, and it takes everything I have not to scream. “You’re kicking me out?”

He knows I’m hurt. I hate that. He lifts my chin, forcing my eyes to his. “I’m not kicking you out, kitty cat. What I am doing is refusing to accept your terms.”

“I haven’t set any terms.”

“But you have! You’ve already set us up for failure, determining without even talking to me or giving me a chance, that this would be the last time we’d be together. Well I refuse it, just as I refuse to be seen as a big hairy dildo, here to get you off one last time.”

I look away in shame, because in a way, I was looking at him that way. “I’m sorry, Coop. It won’t happen again.”

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