American Love Story (Dreamers)

by Adriana Herrera

  Mind games, fuckboy shit...and why? Because I knew the moment I grabbed that phone it was all over.

  After I took my time with my locs and brushing my teeth, I walked back to the bedroom and picked up the phone as I got back in bed. When I touched the screen I saw he left a message to call when I was ready. Just like that. The tightness I’d been feeling all day started to loosen as I tapped my phone to call him back.

  Inevitable.

  I held the screen up to my face and waited, after only a few rings Easton’s face filled it. His expression a mirror image of mine. Head propped on a pillow, his bare neck and chest visible on the screen.

  He looked tired and so fucking beautiful, and the smile he gave me felt like what I’d been needing all day.

  “Hey.”

  I smiled back and greeted him. “Hey yourself, long day?”

  He lifted a shoulder before answering, the weariness obvious in his expression. “It wasn’t particularly longer than any other day. We’re preparing for that case of the community college student who was assaulted by a classmate last year.”

  I grimaced, remembering I’d seen the story about the upcoming trial a few days ago. “That must be intense.”

  He nodded and ran his hand over his hair. When he did, I could see the little mole right below his hairline. It was funny, my friends always teased me about how casual, almost dismissive I was with the people I dated. Not really paying attention to details, but with Easton, I’d memorized every centimeter of his body. Each freckle and scar seared in my mind forever.

  After a moment he answered with a tired smile still on his lips. “Yeah, gearing up for a trial is always kind of grueling, but we have it mostly under control.” I could tell he wasn’t up to talking about his job anymore. Easton did not like talking about his stress, or troubles. He didn’t like talking about himself too much either.

  Sunny, all the time.

  It stung that I was yet one more person in his life he felt needed that from him.

  I tried to focus on him and what he was saying, and not get caught up in regretful thoughts for once. “We decided to take the weekend off to get some rest since the next two weeks are going to be hectic.” He tilted his head, eyebrows raised in question.

  “How are the guys? Was soup night good?” Work talk was over then. Now it was my turn to fill the space. Tell him about my things, my people.

  I exhaled, trying to remember the last time I’d been this intimate with someone I’d been dating.

  I could not recall.

  “Soup was good. My mother likes to monitor my wardrobe choices, which gets old, but I let her get away with it. It was great seeing everybody though. I went to see the latest superhero movie with Juanpa and Camilo after.”

  “Nice,” he said with a bit more wistfulness than I’d expect. Easton seemed like the kind of guy who never wanted for social engagements or people to see. I always envisioned him surrounded by people wanting to be with him, but maybe that was just me projecting.

  We were silent for a moment and I ran my eyes over the little bit of his body I could see. He looked sleepy and soft and I wanted to be in that bed with him. Make him feel good, lose myself in his body. That was something that I’d only known with Easton, a chemistry and pull so powerful I’d forgotten everything else when we were together. It had been a heady thing to feel. Desire so strong it drove me literally out of my head.

  I noticed a little black satin pouch by his pillow and before I even opened my mouth, my heart started racing. “What is that?”

  He turned his head in the direction I was pointing and looked at it, like he’d forgotten it was there, then his eyes widened in surprise. But when he turned his attention back to me the wicked smile, which usually meant dirty delicious things were about to happen, made an appearance.

  “It was a gift from Priscilla, she brought it when she was in town last week.”

  “Oh?” I asked in a voice that was more growl than anything else.

  Nesto’s cousin and Easton’s best friend, Priscilla, was a police detective whose side hustle was an online sex-positive toy shop. She loved giving all of us freebies.

  I smiled at the lascivious expression on his face. “So you’re one of the lucky recipients of Pris’s freebies.”

  “Her deciding to open Come as You Are has been a boon for me. I’ve been really wanting to try this one.”

  And that was all I needed to hear for my dick to get fully in the game.

  I groaned, shifting in the bed, my legs falling open to give myself more room. My pulse quickened with every lusty look Easton was flashing at me on that screen.

  Fuck it. I was doing this.

  “What is it?” I asked, committed to taking this shit wherever it needed to go, and Easton was loving it, if that smirk on his face was any indication.

  He took his time to answer, looking at me with just a hint of doubt in his eyes, as if asking, “Are you sure you want to do this?”

  I pushed the sheets off me and doubled down because as a matter of fact, I really fucking did want to do this.

  “I want to see it. Right now.”

  I wanted to push and prod until I had Easton panting. It felt like the only thing in the world that mattered in this moment. That dirty smile came back out and I pushed down the elastic band of my shorts so I could stroke my cock. Already desperate to get this thing we were doing, whatever it was, started.

  I shuddered out a breath as I saw Easton reach over and grab the pouch with his thumb and index finger, delicately placing it on his chest, his eyes locked on mine the whole time.

  He blinked twice, the corners of his mouth pulling up as he fingered whatever was inside.

  “This?”

  I chuckled at his teasing, gripping my dick, and praying I didn’t come before I got to see his.

  He was going to stretch this out, make me wait. Force me to be patient and to ask for what I wanted each step of the way.

  I’d always been one for furtive encounters. Quick and impersonal. Not with Easton, every night I’d spent with him had been intense and unhurried. He’d refused to let me run out after a quick fuck. Sure, I’d resisted, wanting to keep to my usual MO, but Easton wanted what he wanted, and in the end I’d stayed.

  Hell, I’d come running back for more.

  I would never admit it, but I was hooked on the way he made me tell him what I wanted. He never let me hide behind my mask.

  I had to tear it off for Easton.

  Name each and every one of the things I wanted from him. I could drown in the things Easton made me feel. I could barely keep my head above water now.

  Still holding the phone up to his face, he took the toy out of the bag. It was a black curved silicone vibrator, the head a lot thicker than the base. I could already picture the look of ecstasy when he worked it inside himself.

  “I want to watch your face when you fuck yourself with it.” I stroked my cock again as a shiver ran up my spine.

  He sucked his teeth in response, while a flush worked itself up his neck, his eyes fixed on what I was doing. “Let me see it.” I didn’t have to ask what he meant. “I’ve been dreaming about it for months.”

  The way his breath caught on the last word told me that like me, he was touching himself, too turned on to stay still.

  The wickedness that only showed up when Easton was in the picture bubbled up and suddenly I wanted to play. “What? This?” I moved the phone up so he could only see my chest, and over the speaker I heard a frustrated groan.

  “Two can play at this game, Professor Denis.” That last word was more a gasp, and just the sound of him getting revved up made my balls tighten. I tipped the phone up so I could see what he was doing. His face was totally out of the frame. I heard him though, and with the way he was humming, my own breathing started coming faster. By the time I raised the phone to
my eyes all I saw was Easton’s ceiling.

  “I thought you were waiting to see something?” I asked, feigning confusion, and after a moment he was back on the screen.

  “Show me.” His voice was tight, like he wasn’t sure he’d get what he was asking for. What he didn’t know, what I wasn’t sure I could ever say, was that in that moment I would have given him anything.

  I licked my lips as I lowered the phone to where my other hand was busy stroking my dick. For a second I felt foolish, my dick in my hand while I FaceTimed a guy I should probably stay away from. But the flames fanning this fire were more than I could contain.

  The pained groan from my tortured audience of one made me grin as I lifted the phone back up to my face.

  “I cannot tell you to the degree that my mouth waters whenever I see your cock.” He sounded just a little resentful. “It’s Pavlovian at this point.”

  I laughed as he winked and started moving his hand down his chest until I couldn’t see it anymore. He jerked after a moment, a moan escaping his lips.

  “Are you touching yourself?” I asked, just so that I could do something if I couldn’t be there to touch him. He nodded frantically and looked up at me.

  “Yeah, I just brushed my finger over my hole. It feels so good.” He closed his eyes like the feeling was too intense, and I had to pull hard on my balls to get myself under control again, and practically barked the next words out. “Get some lube.”

  He moved so fast he dropped the phone, but within seconds his face was back on the screen. Those green eyes barely visible around his blown-out pupils. That flush of red kept creeping further up his neck, and I wanted to be there. Run my teeth over that blushing skin and make him fall apart.

  I must’ve been showing a lot more than I thought I was because for a moment he closed his eyes again and took a deep breath. He shook his head once and a smile crept over his lips. When he spoke, it was so low I could barely hear him.

  “When you look at me like that, I can’t breathe.”

  I heard myself say it before I had a chance to think about my words. “Look at you how?”

  “Like that.” He lifted his finger and pointed in the direction of his phone, his eyes still closed.

  “Open your eyes, Easton, I want you to look at me when I tell you what I want.”

  He snapped them open and the hunger there matched mine exactly.

  Ravenous.

  “Get the lube on the vibrator.”

  “But I’ll need both hands for that.” His chest was moving up and down like he’d been running.

  “Do it.” I growled again, just to keep from laughing at how conflicted he looked.

  “God, why do I find your toppy bullshit so hot?” he asked, flustered, as I lay there grinning.

  That was the thing about Easton, I was different with him. Careless and careful at the same time. More focused on all the things that were going right, and not so worried about what could go wrong. I could be like that for hours, lost in Easton. He put the phone on speaker and set it down somewhere.

  He came back, his face still flushed. “What do I do?”

  “Let me see it.” Apparently I no longer spoke, I just growled.

  He raised the hand with the toy up to the screen and the head was glistening with lube. My hands shook, wanting so badly to be the one putting it inside him.

  “Let me see how hard you are? But don’t touch yourself yet.” I stroked my cock again, running my thumb over the head of my dick. I was so turned on I knew I wouldn’t last much longer.

  Easton shuddered out another breath and shook his head. “I’m so hard right now, baby, let me touch myself, please.”

  His words were like lightning crackling through me. I was never one for endearments, and neither was Easton, but when we were like this, delirious from wanting each other, all the rules went out the window.

  “No cheri mwen, don’t touch.”

  He turned the phone and I could see the vee of his legs, his knees drawn up, thighs spread and his cock sticking straight up. The force of how much I wanted him was almost overwhelming.

  “Tell me what to do, baby.” His voice shook when he spoke, and I could barely keep it together.

  “Fuck yourself with the vibrator. Turn it on and put it in slowly.”

  He moved the phone back so I could see his face and nodded frantically. He squirmed as he held the phone with one hand and himself with the other. The cords of his neck were tight and his mouth went slack as he worked it in.

  At this point I was just gripping the base of my dick, just so I wouldn’t blow before he even got the vibrator in all the way.

  “Tell me how it feels.”

  His face was pure ecstasy. “So good.”

  “Does it feel like when I’m inside you?”

  He shook his head hard, the phone shaking as he did. “Nothing feels like you. No one feels like you.”

  His words hit me hard. I was writhing from how turned on I was and how much I wanted to respond in kind, tell him that nothing felt like this for me either.

  Easton could just say things like that. Tell me exactly what I was to him. No reservations, and it was fucking terrifying. I was so close to saying reckless shit to Easton, but the way he was moaning as he played with himself got me back in the game.

  “Those sounds you make. Are you hitting your spot? I know how hard you can come when I hit you just right.”

  “Uh huh,” he said, completely lost in what he was doing. “Ungh, the tip is tapping right against it. I’m so close.” He gasped and tightened his jaw.

  I was stroking myself just enough, but I knew one hard and fast stroke would set me off.

  “Turn it up, I want to see your face when that thing really starts drilling you hard. Are you leaking, baby?”

  After a second he let out a long, husky moan and started muttering a long string of “Oh fuck, oh fuuuuuck.”

  “Oh shit.” I was rambling right along with him, barely hanging on until he came. “Jesus, you look hot,” I said, already feeling my orgasm build, that tight heat in my groin making my ass clench.

  “Shit.” I shuddered. “I’m coming.”

  Just as I sped my hand up, I saw Easton push his head hard into the pillow and his mouth open in a silent moan, eyes tightly shut. He looked so beautiful like that. Lost in chasing his orgasm at all costs.

  I dropped my phone and ran my hand over my chest until I found a nipple, twisting it just enough to take me over the edge. My vision whited out and in the distance I heard Easton swearing through his own orgasm. Long ropes of come spurted out, hitting my stomach and neck. As I came out of from the fog of my orgasm, for a second the sated bliss was edged out by a hint of regret.

  But as I picked up my phone again and found Easton on the screen, looking like the very picture of pliable contented man, I pushed my worrying out, and decided to enjoy this moment.

  I was about to speak, but Easton beat me to it. “I’d act like this was unexpected, but I’ve been hoping for you to do this with me since the moment you got to Ithaca.”

  Easton

  I was sitting up against the headboard and Patrice was doing the same, somewhere in Yonkers. His big body at rest, the tattoo on his chest—the one with the Haitian and American flags in the shape of human heart—moving as he took deep breaths. He had that secret smile I’d noticed only happened when I was being a particular brand of bratty.

  “So this was all planned. You got that toy to tempt me.”

  I put a finger under my chin as if considering his question. “Maybe.”

  He laughed and shook his head, but didn’t have a retort. Things felt comfortable between us, no stalled conversation or weird silences.

  I watched him as he ran a hand over his collarbone, where he had another tattoo. This one just two words, Ayiti Cheri, which he’d told me meant,
Beloved Haiti in creole.

  The skin where the tattoos were was a bit bumpy in places from keloid scarring. When I’d first asked him about it he just said his skin scarred easily, and it was why he didn’t have more tattoos. I’d run my fingers over those spots so many times when we’d been together. Never getting anywhere near my fill when it came to Patrice. Which only made me remember what he’d called me while we were messing around.

  “What’s cheri mwen?”

  He smiled, a little embarrassed, but I could see he was determined to say whatever it was. “It means my darling.”

  Oh, there went those butterflies again.

  I was so tempted to ask more questions. Was I his darling or was it just something he’d said in the heat of the moment?

  I’d never heard him use it before with me, I would’ve remembered.

  Did I want to know?

  I didn’t want to lose the feeling those words had brought. I wanted to keep him open to me. Looking like I was a place of comfort.

  But my insecurity won out and I asked the other thing I’d been wondering. “Why are you not freaking out right now?”

  He lifted an eyebrow, looking a bit amused but mostly surprised at my question. Like he couldn’t believe I’d actually asked. He stared at me for what seemed like a very long time, his eyes not angry, but very intense as he considered his answer.

  He turned onto his side, his face pillowed on his strong arms.

  I did the same and it felt so intimate, like we were face-to-face.

  “I’m tired of not letting myself have the things that I want.”

  It took him so long to respond I was momentarily confused by what he said. Then it sunk in.