by Coralee June
“Fucker,” Lance said. “Well, we’re going to have a movie night. You can watch people blow shit up to feel better.”
Katy piped in. “I still think we should watch The Notebook—”
“NO!” Jonathan, Lance, and Decker said at the same time.
I grinned while wondering how often Katy had been outvoted by the guys. A sneaky idea came to me. “I’d rather watch The Notebook, actually,” I said before winking at her conspiratorially. Lance’s face dropped. Jonathan pulled at his collar. Decker just gave me a knowing grin. I knew he’d see right through my comment. I didn’t actually want to watch the movie, but I liked making them squirm.
“I mean, I guess we can watch it?” Lance said with a frown like he’d eaten something sour.
“I’ll make the popcorn,” Jonathan said before disappearing into the kitchen. Katy clapped her hands in excitement before grabbing Lance’s wrist and yanking him toward the winding staircase and upstairs. I could hear her excited squeals even after they disappeared up the steps.
“You play dirty pool, punk,” Decker said before grabbing a forkful of dessert and placing it on his tongue. I looked around, making sure no one could see us before stepping over to him.
“I like Katy. I figured I could suffer through The Notebook if it made her smile,” I replied with a shrug. He smiled for a minute, then looked back down on his plate. His face was masked, but I knew there was a storm of thoughts brewing behind his dark eyes. “Are you okay?”
Decker’s face fell further, and he dabbed a napkin on his lips before responding. “I’m not surprised. This is what he does. You can’t help but hope…”
“That they’ll change?” I finished for him.
“Yeah. I just hate it, but there’s not much I can do.”
Deciding that Decker needed a distraction, I grabbed his index finger and placed it in the cool whipped cream portion of his dessert.
“What are you doing?” Decker asked excitedly before looking around. It was almost exhilarating, the rush of hiding, as wrong as it felt.
I feigned innocence before replying. “I just wanted a taste.” I plopped his finger on my tongue and licked it clean, watching in amusement as his mouth dropped open and he shifted in his seat. My eyes glanced down as I removed his finger with a pop, delighted to see that he was fighting a hard-on in his jeans.
Decker swallowed, then whispered in a soft voice, “I want a taste later tonight. Come over.”
“Yes, sir,” I replied before biting my lip.
“Good girl.”
I was lying in Decker’s childhood bedroom, staring up at the ceiling where numerous glow in the dark stars were pasted. It was surreal, being so close to him. He was on his side with his head propped up on his hand, staring at me as he traced circles along my arm. “So this is where the magic happened, huh?” I asked.
Decker sighed like a preening peacock before moving to the sliver of skin on my stomach where my shirt had risen. Chills traveled down my spine as he spoke. “Yeah, I studied for a lot of tests in this room. Sometimes it got pretty hot and heavy. I stripped the quadratic formula down and claimed her right here on this bed.”
I giggled. “I love it when you talk dirty. Say something else,” I demanded while sitting up and pushing him back down onto the mattress. Within seconds, I was straddling him and peppering kisses along his scruffy jaw.
“Decagon,” he whispered in a heady tone.
“Oh, yes, keep going.” I could feel the light chuckles in his chest, bouncing up and down.
“Hubble’s Law of Cosmic Expansion,” he added.
I started kissing his neck. His chest. “Tell me more,” I purred half-jokingly. “Should we test out the big bang theory?”
I was taking this too far, but it was fun and lighthearted. Decker and I needed more of that. He chuckled while threading his hands through my hair and lightly pushing me down further. “Was there something you wanted, Mr. Harris?” He pressed his hips up slightly, which was the universal sign of put my dick in your mouth, please. I was happy to oblige but wanted to make him squirm a bit.
“I used to hate it when you called me that,” he groaned as I hovered my lips over the waistband of his sweats. His dick was hard as a rock and bobbing against my neck. I shoved his pants down over his thighs and smiled at the large cock just inches from my lips.
“Why?” I asked before licking up the shaft. His body twitched.
“Uhm,” he rasped, and I realized that I’d never witnessed him being at a loss for words before. This kind of power was invigorating. “It was a verbal dissonance between us. I wanted you to call me Decker.”
“And now?” I asked before sliding my mouth over his hardened head, tasting salty precum on my tongue.
“Now, it’s kind of hot.”
I pumped him up and down, his cock hitting the back of my throat as I hummed. I used my lips as guards around my front teeth and pressed, adding to the pleasure. He held my hair and watched me, as if not wanting to miss the sight of his cock disappearing in and out of my mouth. “Fuck, Blakely.” The admiration in his tone, mixed with the slurping sounds escaping my mouth, was erotic.
He shifted his leg between mine and lifted up, hitting my throbbing center with his thigh, and I started grinding against him as I worked his dick. I’d never been the type of girl that enjoyed giving head. The act always felt so degrading and one-sided to me. But now I understood the appeal. There was power in holding the key to someone’s pleasure in your mouth.
I slid off and licked my lips. “You taste so good, Mr. Harris,” I said in a whimper.
“Fuck, don’t stop.”
“Wasn’t planning on it.”
Decker squirmed as I resumed giving him, in my humble opinion, the best damn blow job of his life. His muffled groans filled the room, and I knew the moment he was close. Could feel that rising twitch at the base of my throat as I dry humped his leg. He was right there on the edge. I coaxed his orgasm with a demanding hum, cupping the base of his shaft with my palm.
“I’m going to cum in your mouth,” he said without asking for permission.
His cum shot out like ropes down my throat, and I swallowed every last drop. Then, I continued to slide up and down to wring out his pleasure for as long as possible. He writhed and moaned and sighed and bit his lip, tossing his head back on an oh fuck while arching his back.
It wasn’t until he started to grow soft that I pulled away. He clawed at my hips and tossed me down on the bed, ripping my shorts and panties off with greedy hands that were abrasive and rough. “My turn, punk,” he said before yanking my thighs apart and licking a straight, long, slow, intentional line up my center, pausing right before my clit. He wanted me to be on the edge of my seat, and I was.
“What are you waiting for?” I asked while lifting up. His hands pushed me back down into the mattress.
“I’m just enjoying the view, Blakely,” he replied.
Then, his mouth latched onto my clit, those plump lips wrapped around my nub as his tongue worked it over. The light flicking wasn’t enough, I needed him to press harder. “Don’t hold back, Decker,” I moaned.
He pulled away as I looked down at him. His lips were shining from the taste of me as his bright teeth molded into a grin. “I stopped holding back a while ago.”
And then he proved how much he was done denying this by swallowing my orgasm whole.
I rode his face like a champ, tugging at his hair as his conquering mouth feasted on me. And when I was done, he moved up to hold me close. We spooned on his mattress in post-orgasmic bliss as I listened to the steady breathing rattling around his chest. In and out. The constant homeostasis working without either of us thinking about it was comforting. I loved how normal this felt, but the idea that this was temporary kept flashing across my mind.
“What now, Decker?” I asked, hating the words that left my lips. I knew this conversation was necessary, but it felt like a knife in the chest of our new and budding acceptance of this.<
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“Now I’m going to hold you,” he replied simplistically, but I knew he was evading.
“And after that?” I asked.
“I can’t decide,” he replied in a sad, small voice, making my heart squeeze. “I don’t know if I want you to ride my face or fuck you until you’re screaming my name.”
I wiggled against him with an exasperated sigh. “You know what I mean, Decker,” I chided.
“I know, I know. I’m just not ready for that conversation because it scares me.”
“What about it scares you?” I asked.
“Everything.” His answer was blunt and honest. We’d worked hard for honesty. I didn’t want fluffy promises that would never come to fruition. I didn’t want to pretend, but I didn’t want to let go just yet either. “I’m scared that this could fuck up a job I love. I’m scared Lance won’t be happy for us. I’m scared I’ll fuck up with you. Say the wrong thing. Hurt you. I’m not good at relationships in good conditions, so how am I going to handle navigating one with so much secrecy? And if this ends, are you going to stop talking to me? Because I don’t think I could handle not having you in my life at this point. You’re so refreshingly perfect for me, Blakely.”
That was a lot to digest, and I didn’t know where to start first. “As far as school, we will be careful. All interaction will be restricted to the loft. No lingering stares or public displays of sexual tension.”
“Have you seen us? We’re like burning ammonium dichromate! Impossible to ignore.”
“I love that you use obscure chemical reactions to describe our sex life,” I joked. “But really, we’ll be careful until graduation. And I can transfer out of your class.”
“Please don’t. I love seeing you every day,” he begged while kissing the back of my neck. My entire body settled. “Okay. So we hide this, then what?”
“Then I graduate. Then we slowly ease Lance into the idea that we like each other.”
“And what, just hide the fact that we’ve been secretly dating for a year?”
“Are we dating?” I felt like an immature child, begging to slap a label on this so it felt real.
“Yes. Exclusively. And Max is off-limits. Shit, I think he knows.”
My mouth dropped open in shock, and I turned to face Decker, he was rubbing the bridge of his nose with his fingers while looking thoroughly stressed. I wanted to kiss each fear away. “How?”
“You’re a chatty drunk.”
“Fuck.” I felt like burrowing under my blankets and never emerging again. Our relationship hadn’t even really begun, and I’d already ruined it. Maybe we couldn’t handle the secrecy. “I’ll transfer out of MAMS. I can go to the local high school and do my thing. Then we can let Lance know and not let this hang like a secret between us. Let’s be…honest.”
“MAMS is the best opportunity for you to get a scholarship, Blakely. I can’t let you do that.”
“Well, you’re the best opportunity I have at being happy, Decker.” It was the truth. I’d never felt this way before, and I wasn’t willing to give it up. “I can get straight A’s anywhere I go. I’m kind of brilliant.”
Decker burrowed his face in my neck and let out an annoyed groan. “This is infuriating,” his muffled voice rang out. “I don’t want you to give up on MAMS just yet. I don’t want to tell Lance just yet.”
I knew we had different reasons for not wanting to tell Lance yet. Decker was afraid of his reaction, but for me? I was worried that Decker would leave me just like everyone else and decide that this wasn’t worth the massive effort. Why upset my brother needlessly if this was going to end? “Then let’s just see how this plays out. Who knows, maybe you won’t like me anymore. Why uproot friendships and schools needlessly? We can play it cool. Be subtle and just go with the flow. No labels. No expectations. Just enjoying each other’s time and letting it grow from there.”
Decker’s eyes burned me up. He was taking in my words with gnashing teeth and an angry scowl. “That's not really going to work for me, Blakely,” he seethed before cupping my cheek. “I want the labels. I want expectations. I want this to feel permanent, because even though you’re probably assuming the worst in that beautiful, brilliant mind of yours, I’m not. I’m assuming that you’re it for me, and now I have to figure out how this is going to work.”
I swallowed. I wasn’t expecting such a heartfelt declaration, but my soul seemed to settle a bit at his words. “I want to figure it out, too,” I finally whispered.
“You know what I love about the scientific process?” Decker asked. It was so out of the blue that I felt emotional whiplash. One second he was declaring something that had me envisioning a future with him, and the next he was talking about school.
“No?” I wasn’t sure where he was going with this change in the conversation.
“The trial and error,” he began. “Let’s try. I mean really try. A day at a time. A month at a time. A year at a time. Let’s do what we’re doing until it doesn’t work anymore, then try something else. But know that you aren’t some classroom experiment for me. You’re not a theory or a test. Being with you is like discovering all the secrets of the universe. I just want to treat you like the precious truth you are, Blakely Stewart.”
Tears welled up in my eyes at his words, and I pressed my palm to his chest just to feel the beautiful, glorious heart beating beneath it. “Let’s try, Mr. Harris,” I conceded.
“Let’s try, punk.”
26
Decker
We got back to Memphis late Sunday night, and I snuck into her bedroom while Lance was blissfully unaware and asleep down the hall. I felt like an addicted dick, prioritizing my need to hold her twenty-four-seven instead of our promise to try keeping things between us a secret.
Worth it. It was so worth it. I’d never slept so well. She slept soundly, reaching out in the middle of the night to touch my bare skin. It was like even in her dreamy state, she craved being near me. I could relate to the desire.
I watched her as she softly snored, like a total creeper. I held her close when she whimpered lightly in her sleep, then felt her body soften and relax when I pulled her close. That citrus smell I loved was comforting as I breathed her in and drew circles with my fingers along her spine.
And since Lance had to leave for work early, we got to get ready together in mock-normalcy. I watched her slip on her uniform and rub lotion on her supple skin. She brushed her long, blonde hair while staring in the mirror. When she applied lip gloss? I grew so fucking hard I had to leave the room. It was mundane but sensual. I never wanted or valued something more.
I brought her coffee and read emails as she caught up on homework, our eyes kept finding one another across the table as she ran her foot up and down my leg. I slowly drove her to school, wanting nothing more than to drive around and hold her hand, but instead parked a couple blocks away. She kissed me on the cheek with a lingering press of her lips, those long eyelashes of hers tickling my cheek.
And I didn’t really believe in perfection. Maybe it was the scientist in me; I thought that everything could be improved upon. We were hardwired as intellectual beings to search for the best, but for once in my life, I didn’t feel like ripping apart the hypothesis of our relationship and scrapping it.
Blakely Stewart was perfection.
Today was perfection.
Maximillian Fucking Hemsworth, however, was not.
That preppy dick walked her into my class and gave me a smug grin that had me reaching for the pop quiz on my desk. I knew he was probably a good looking guy. He had charm in spades and was persistent as fuck. I didn’t even care that he had suspicions about Blakely and me. I wanted him to know.
I’d fail the motherfucker, I really would.
“Have a seat,” I instructed well before the bell had rung, mostly because Max was sitting on Blakely’s desk and twirling her hair on his finger. She blushed and swatted him away, but it was too damn playful for my liking. Come on, babe. Kick him in the balls.
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I knew I was glowering at him, and I didn’t have a right to. Blakely promised me exclusivity, and I had to trust that. But I still didn’t like the asshole, and being a jealous bastard was in my blood. “I hope everyone had a good weekend. Today we’re going to discuss the genotypic ratio. Who can tell me what that is?”
Taylor’s hand shot up as she blurted out the answer. “It’s the pattern of offspring distribution according to genotype.” She looked smug, but I couldn’t be mad, because she was right.
“Correct. The genotypic ratio describes the number of times a genotype would appear in the offspring after a test cross.” I made my way over to the board while explaining, then hurriedly wrote an example down just so I could turn back to watch Blakely write in that adorably enthusiastic way. She always had her teeth sunk into her lip and her eyes focused on the page.
But then I spun around, and I caught Max looking down at his crotch like a grinning idiot, and I knew he was texting on his phone. “Mr. Hemsworth, please bring your phone to the front of the classroom,” I said in a booming voice, practically feeling giddy at the prospect of crushing him in my fist.
Max rolled his eyes as he walked to the front of the room. He handed over his iPhone with a huff, and I started reading from the screen. My teeth gritted in frustration when I realized that he was writing a text to Blakely.
“From Max: You look pretty today, Bae. How about I take you out again?”
I rolled my eyes as the class snickered. Maximillian looked like he wanted to pummel me but masked his expression into a calm facade before spinning around to face the girl I was pretty sure I’d be willing to lose this job for. “What do you say, Bae? Wanna do dinner again?” he asked while walking over to her, swagger eminent in his steps. I wanted to bust his fucking kneecaps. “I’m not above begging,” he added before sinking down to his goddamn knees.
The asshole was getting an F in my class.
