“I almost didn’t wake up in time to do it,” he adds, now sounding awkward. I sling my bag over my shoulder.
“Are you leaving?” he asks, eyes quizzical.
“Yeah,” I answer, trying to sound casual. “I’ve got a lot of work to catch up on. You know, school, and all that.”
“Shit, I’ve kept you from your work, huh?” he says with a grin. “Although I don’t regret it at all.”
“Me neither,” I smile back saucily. “But I need to keep my grades high for my financial aid.”
He nods, understanding, rubbing his jaw.
“Let me give you a ride back to campus,” he says, grabbing his keys.
All the way back, we don’t say a word. I can feel the tension in the air as he drives. He’s uncomfortable. What’s changed in the last few hours? I’m still me, after all, but suddenly, he feels like a different person. Brent pulls up next to where my car is parked but leaves the motor running.
But surprisingly, the man asks me out.
“Why don’t you give me your number,” he suggests, grabbing his cell phone from the coat of his leather jacket. “Maybe we can go on a real date sometime. Not a double blind date or anything like that – something real, just you and me.”
I gape at him but then relief floods through my body. Because maybe Brent really likes me. Maybe this isn’t just sex? Maybe we’re onto something real … and the text to Amy meant nothing.
Chapter 12
BRENT
Oh fuck. This is the best dream ever. In my mind, Janie closes her eyes as she licks the head of my cock, swollen and purple. She’s on her knees naked, her huge ass sticking out towards the mirror of my wardrobe, where in the reflection, I can see her pussy glisten wet for me between her legs. She’s twirling her tongue around my throbbing cock, then gently folds her full, pouting mouth around it and slides it down her throat to the hilt. I moan, fucking into the movement, reaching for her curls to hold her head in place.
She lets me fuck her pretty little mouth as she lifts her huge, swaying tits up with both her hands, pushing them up towards my balls and jiggling them as she intensifies the suction in her mouth. This makes me come hard, deep down her throat, as she keeps her beautiful hazel eyes open, blinking innocently, watching me like an obedient puppy as I pump my load down her throat. She doesn’t even need to swallow, that’s how far down her throat my cock is, but there’s no protest from her. Her eyes are full of lust and approval.
Laying on my back in bed, I open my eyes and look down at my cock, so hard and tightly drawn up against my six pack that it reaches until well past my belly-button. A stream of cum reaches up almost to my pecs - I’ve had another dream about Janie. Like a fucking pubescent kid. Annoyed, I grab a tissue from the bedside table and clean myself up, then realize I want a shower, instead. And seeing that it’s almost 6 a.m. anyways, I decide to just get up for the day.
As I let the water course down my muscles, I think back to the hot dream of Janie. It’s not just a fantasy - that had actually happened a few days ago. She came over after we’d gone for a drive and had another one of our soulful talks; as usual, she made me feel so calm and peaceful. We’d kissed and come back here, where I’d been reluctant to fuck her because I’m always so scared of hurting her. I’m always so aware of how easily I can crush her soft, feminine body with these muscles. Espeically this weird PTSD stuff, I still don’t trust the strength of my own body when I am taken by the lust that Janie instills in me.
So I lay her down on the bed and started licking her clit softly, then harder, dipping my tongue into her creaming cunt until she screamed in pleasure. The thought of her soft, juicy pussy in my mouth makes me hard again, and I watch my cock stand on end as the soap drips off my body. This lust for Janie, this need to be with her, is unrelenting and frankly, exhausting. I think of how she’d gratefully gotten on her hands and knees after I made her come with my mouth, her tits swaying with the movement, as she’d folded her lips around my cock.
My left hand steadies against the tiles of the shower wall as I start to jack off with my right, hoping the sound of the shower gushing down on my body will muffle any sounds of my orgasm. Beating at my steel-hard rod, I think of her soft tits, her huge ass, her big brown eyes that looked up at me as I came down her throat. I hold my cock steady as it pulses in my fist, cum exploding out the tip for the second time before sunrise. I watch it disappear down the drain and sighing, continue with my shower. I hope I can get through the rest of the morning without too many more distractions.
After I fucked her at my place, I was determined not to see her again. Because being with Janie opens me up completely, and it freaks me out. I’m a grown man for crying out loud, and I’d had one or two nervous breakdowns in her presence. It fucking terrified me.
So yeah, I went out with Amy a couple days ago. It was okay. She’s pretty, but detached and uninspiring. It was kind of like going out with a cardboard doll that smiles and talks back, but whom you know isn’t real. So I came back bored more than anything, and still thinking about Janie.
Because I dream about my girl non-stop. Dreams where we fucked so meaningfully that I’d awaken feeling both sick to my stomach and with a boner so painfully hard I’d jack myself off like a horny teenage boy. And to my horror, I’d then feel compelled to text Janie and set up a date with her. What the hell was wrong with me? I’d sworn to stay away from the brunette for her own good as well as mine, and yet here I was, doing the exact opposite of what I’d planned.
But it just kept happening over and over again. I’d dream about Janie, and then wake-up ravenous for her. So I’d schedule a date, and every time I’d resolve not to be such an open book. To keep my heart under wraps. But every time I failed: something about her made the avalanche of emotions start. And then we’d fuck, her large, round thighs tight around my waist, her giant tits swaying against my torso, her lips lovingly on mine, always coming together. It was earth-shatteringly, soul-destroyingly, terrifyingly hot, earnest and real. And every time I’d be left feeling naked, ashamed, terrified. And then the cycle would start up again. I’d ignore her for a few days, go on a date with Amy, and “pretend” I was normal. But inevitably, I’d miss Janie again and we’d go another date ending in sex.
So it’s been going on like this for six months now. I tell Cole about it on the phone, but he hasn’t been worried because I haven’t had more PTSD episodes. It’s because of Janie. I know it in my heart. But how can I do this to her? She deserves someone a thousand times better than me.
My phone vibrates and my eyes go wide. I expect it to be Cole because we're due for a chat. But it’s not - it’s a text from Janie. This is the first time she’s contacting me. It’s not how we’ve been doing things. I hesitate a moment, then pick up my cell to read the text.
Chapter 13
JANIE
I’m lying in bed trying to focus on some homework when I hear Amy come home. We haven’t really seen much of each other the last six months or so, although we live together. To be honest, ever since I subbed for her the night I met Brent I’ve felt like she’s avoiding me. But why? It’s starting to become uncomfortable to be honest. She doesn’t know I’ve been seeing Brent, and I feel awful about it. I don’t know. I should tell my roommate, but it just seems so awkward.
Then there was that party last week. It kind of looked like Brent and Amy were at the shindig together, but it was really crowded, loud, and hard to tell. Maybe it was my imagination. Who knows?
I hear her pour a glass of water in the kitchen and on a whim I get up out of bed and leave my room. She must have heard me coming, because she’s already halfway down the hallway.
“Amy?” I call out hesitantly. I hear her stop in her tracks.
“Hey,” she answers from down her hall. I can't see her face, but I can tell. She’s uncomfortable too. I resolve to put this behind us once and for all.
“What’s up?” she asks, having retraced her steps and reappearing in the common room. Her b
ody language is tense. She's unsure what this is about.
“Can we talk?” I ask her.
“Sure,” she says with a cheerful smile. But the woman doesn’t move from the hallway, so I sit down on the sofa, which prompts her to reluctantly do the same.
“Are we - okay?” I ask her hesitatantly. She nods, not meeting my eyes.
“Why wouldn’t we be?”
“I dunno, I just feel like you’ve been avoiding me lately,” I try.
“Me? I feel like it’s the other way around,” she says, a little snappy. What the hell is this about?
“Look, Ames,” I start, heart pounding in my throat. I hate confrontations. “I feel like this goes back to when I subbed for you with that double date. With Brent.” She shrugs, avoiding eye contact. I swallow, uncomfortable.
“Have I somehow upset you?” I ask her genuinely. She rolls her eyes, running her hand through her hair in frustration.
“No,” she says. “At least not on purpose.”
“What?” I ask her. Then she meets my eyes for the first time.
“Look - I know you fucked Brent during that date,” she says, looking at me squarely. My blood runs cold. “Right there, in the movie theater. Hillary and Randy saw you guys, okay?” Shame engulfs me and I feel my face flush. I can’t reply.
“They just didn’t want to say anything,” she continues. “Hillary was pretty grossed out and shocked, to be honest. I mean, who wouldn’t be? But then later, Hillary came out into the foyer, because she noticed you were both missing. And she saw Brent on his knees, sobbing into your lap.”
“Amy,” I start, but I'm interrupted as Amy holds up her hand.
“It’s okay, Janie,” she says, and it really does seem like she means it. But what’s bothering her then? “I wasn’t so much upset because you had sex with him, actually. It’s that ….” But she stops halfway through her sentence.
“I should have told you. I’m sorry.”
But Amy shakes her head.
“Yeah, that would have been nice, but that’s not even it,” she says. Then she starts laughing, embarrassed. “It was the way Hillary described what happened. There was this incredible passion he’d obviously had for you, to want to fuck you in a movie theater. And then - to cry into your lap afterwards? That was incredible to me. So I figured he’d be the same with me when we went out.”
I choke a little, although no sound comes out. Oh my god, she and Brent did go on a date afterwards. I feel sick. But Amy continues, totally unaware.
“But he wasn’t into me,” she says. “Not on that first date, and not on any other dates since.” What other dates? I can’t breathe. Brent’s been seeing her this whole time?
“He’s always polite, sweet, perfectly gentlemanly,” Amy adds thoughtfully, still in her own world. “But he never seems into me. And especially not the way he’d been into you, apparently, on that double date. We’ve never even had sex.” I’m confused. Baffled.
Who is the injured party here? Me or Amy? Because although Brent’s been keeping these dates from me, he’s obviously been keeping ours from her too. And by the sounds of it, I’ve been by far getting the better part of the bargain.
“You’ve never had sex?” I managed the choked question.
“Never,” Amy shrugs. “Not once has he shown any interest in fucking me. At first I thought maybe he was just being polite, a gentleman’s code or something, waiting for me to give him the okay. But eventually after, like, ten dates or something, I finally decided to come onto him. You know. Make my move. And he was, like, not into it.” She stops, eyes misting over, thinking back to the rejection, bewildered at it. Poor Amy - that’s probably the first time that’s ever happened to her. I can tell she’s telling the truth about everything. It would only be fair for me to be truthful with her, too. But she’s not done yet.
“I’ve gotta to be honest, Janie,” she says, sighing. “I was really jealous. Still am. The longer I go out with him and the more he doesn’t match the story Hillary told me about you two, the more I’ve become obsessed with the whole thing. I even started double checking Hillary’s story, but she swears it’s the truth.” Amy shrugs again, embarrassed. “I guess I was resentful towards you. I’m sorry for being a bitch.”
I’m the one who feels like the bitch now. Poor Amy, it must have been as hard for her as it has been for me, not knowing where Brent’s intentions lay.
“No,” I sigh. “I’m sorry. I should have told you,” I add.
“Really, Janie, it’s okay,” she answers. And I want to tell her everything then, about how I’m the one who’s been getting all of Brent’s sexual attention, even though he’s been keeping stuff from me too.
“Thank you for being honest,” I say. She smiles at me.
“It felt good to talk about this. I didn’t want to, but I’m glad I did. Thanks for confronting me. I think I’m going to end things with Brent. There’s really no point in continuing.”
But the thing is that Amy and I have both been getting played, and she deserves to know. So I take a deep breath.
“I have some things I need to tell you too, Ames,” I say, making her look up at me curiously. “But I have something to do before that,” I add, getting to my feet. I need to confront Brent first. There are things that need clarifying. But I resolve to come clean to Amy after that because she deserves the truth.
And with trembling fingers, I pick up my cell and text Brent. For the first time, and maybe the last.
Chapter 14
BRENT
Janie’s text says she’s coming over and will be here in an hour. I reply that I’m looking forward to seeing her. That entire time I pace the room, equal parts nervous, confused, excited, and scared. Trying to stop thinking about it, I start doing push-ups. Then sit-ups. Then jump rope. Then I realize I’m all sweaty and gross and decide to take a lighting quick shower for the second time that morning. But this time I don’t get side-tracked by thinking about Janie and jacking off. I’m about to get the real thing. Or am I? She might be coming to end it with me. Her texting me and coming over like this is so out of the ordinary that there’s really no telling. I tell myself I don’t care, either way. But I'm lying, of course because the truth is that I care too much.
I hear Janie’s car pull up in the driveway and I meet her at the door. She looks incredible in a high waisted, knee-length black leather skirt that hugs her wide hips, a a classy green shirt tucked in at the waist so her D-cups are accentuated. She locks the door of her car and I see her huge tits press together. Oh shit, I want her already. And as she turns to walk up to me, the expression of worry that has clouded her soft face only increases my lust. She looks into my eyes and I can’t help but smile, even through the impending doom I feel growing in my chest.
“Hey,” I say, leaning in to kiss her soft lips. She doesn’t push me away, but she doesn’t respond either. “What’s wrong, baby?” I ask her, actually worried now. She never acts like this.
“I need to talk to you,” she says, putting her handbag down on the hallway table as she faces me and folding her arms, making her cleavage look even more delicious. She has no idea how hot she looks. I clear my throat and try to pull myself out of my lustful thoughts by thinking about something gross and disgusting. But it doesn’t work. Janie’s too near and I can’t control my mind.
“What’s up, baby?” I ask her gently. She sighs.
“Amy and I spoke this morning,” she says. “We’ve been avoiding each other for a while. Actually, the last six months or so, pretty much since you and I started seeing each other. Do you know why?”
“Why?” I answer, genuinely having no idea where this is going.
“Because both of us have been seeing you without knowing it. Did you know that? You’ve been two-timing us.”
“No, I haven’t,” I say, scoffing. The look of bafflement grows on her beautiful face, her amber eyes flashing. “I mean, I’ve been dating both of you, yes, but I haven't lied or anything. Had you asked if
I was seeing her, I would have just told you.”
“Oh really?” she asks skeptically.
“Yes, really,” I exclaim. Janie suddenly looks sad. It breaks my heart.
“But - I thought we had a connection,” she says, her full bottom lip quivering, tears filling her eyes.
“We do,” I say gently, meaning it with all my heart.
“Then why did you feel the need to see Amy as well as me? Am I not enough?” she whispers, tears now falling down her apple cheeks. I reach out to her plump arms, incredulous that she can wonder about this, and pull her to me. She nestles her head against my torso.
“You are enough, Janie,” I whisper down into her brown curls. “You have no idea how much you’re enough.”
“Then I don’t understand,” she sobs into my chest. I sigh and gently put a finger under her chin, forcing her to look up at me, her beautiful amber eyes swimming with tears.
“And that’s all my fault.” I lean down and kiss her lips, wet with tears. “Come here, sit down. I’ll explain.”
Janie allows me to lead her to the sofa by her plump, dainty little hand, where we sit next to each other. I turn to face her. Holding her hand, I use my other to smooth the curls from her face, brushing her soft, alabaster skin with my calloused hand. She looks up at me expectantly.
Closer: A Blind Date Bad Boy Romance Page 6
