Total pages in book: 91
Estimated words: 90768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 90768 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 454(@200wpm)___ 363(@250wpm)___ 303(@300wpm)
And when he begs me in his usual way to come on him, it sends me over the edge too. I’m kind of obsessed with how much he loves it when I do that. Seeing my cum all over his skin is one of the hottest things in all of my sexual experiences.
“Aaand I need to shower again,” Seth says when we catch our breaths.
“Hey, you asked for it. You could swallow it if you don’t want a mess.”
His softening cock twitches in my hand.
“Mm, you like that idea.”
“It’s hot when you do it. I’m scared I’ll gag.”
“Pretend it’s a protein shake with kale. If I can swallow that, I can swallow anything.”
“That should go on your resume.”
“What type of job do you think I’m looking for?”
Seth laughs.
“We should get up.” I kiss the back of his neck.
We shower quickly and dry off, and then I head downstairs to put on a pot of coffee.
Seth appears fully clothed a few minutes later. “Are you going to wear clothes today?”
“Nope. I ran out of clean ones days ago.”
“Ever thought of going home?”
I stare at him over my shoulder and try to figure out if he’s being serious or joking. I mean, I’ve been here a week. It’s highly possible I’ve overstayed my welcome. “Are you saying you don’t like looking at my ass all day?”
“I’d prefer my couch to not have sweaty balls on it, but I do like staring at your ass. It’s a hard choice.” He’s so stoic as he delivers his words, I still can’t tell if he’s messing with me or not.
“If you need me to go home, you’re allowed to say so. I won’t be offended.”
“I’m worried you’re thinking I’m keeping you hostage. I’m known to be needy, you know.”
“I’m starting to hate that word needy. I don’t think your ex knows what it means. Wanting to hang out is not being needy. If it is, then I guess I’m needy too because it’s fun staying here.”
“You’re using me for my apartment,” Seth deadpans.
“Totally.”
“I can’t even fault you for it. Dorms suck.”
I approach him and lower my voice. “I like spending time with you, and while we’re still on break, I want to take full advantage. When school goes back, I won’t have much spare time.”
“I get it. I just want you to know you can go home at any time.”
“I might have to so I can do a load of laundry.”
“Or you can use the laundry room in the building.”
I cock my head. “I knew you loved staring at my ass. You could’ve told me that days ago.”
“Eh. You’re right. It’s a great ass.”
I pull back from him. “Coffee?”
“Yes, please.”
The pot of coffee is full now, so I pour two cups. Seth sits at the kitchen island and watches me work, smiling at me the whole time. There’s no denying whatever between us is strong, and I’m happy to spend as much time with him as possible to find out how far it will take us.
When Logan encouraged me to pursue dating guys to test it out, I figured I would for a bit, maybe sleep around, work out my sexuality, and then date whoever I wanted. And by date, I mean fuck. Because that’s really all I’ve done up until this point. I didn’t expect to find a guy I actually like.
And without a doubt, I’m in serious like with Seth.
As I hand over his cup of coffee, his front door opens out of nowhere.
My hands fly to cover my junk, and if I thought my worst nightmare would be Foster walking in on this and finding out before we can tell him, I underestimated the thought of Seth’s parents doing it.
“Hi, honey. We—” Seth’s mom stops dead in her tracks. “Oh, dear. Uh. We came to … and the key … We, uh, umm.”
At least his dad looks like he’s trying not to react.
Oh no. This is bad. This is like outing Seth to his parents bad.
Quick, come up with an excuse as to why you’re naked in their son’s apartment.
“I’m a nudist!” I blurt.
They both look confused.
“I’m trying to recruit Seth into my cult. That’s why I’m naked.”
Seth’s dad looks like he’s trying to swallow his lips. His mom is averting her gaze.
Hmm, they don’t believe me. “I actually gave up my clothing for Lent.”
“That starts in February,” Seth mutters.
Oh shit.
“Okay, truth. I have a mole. Somewhere not … normal. I asked Seth to look at it for me.”
Seth finally breaks. “Oh my God, stop talking and go put clothes on.”
“Okay.” I make a run for it.
I find my least-smelling shirt and sweats while voices filter from the kitchen. When I head back down, red-faced and more than embarrassed, Seth wraps his arm around my waist.
“Mom, Dad, this is Richie.”
His dad looks at me pointedly. “Richard Cohen. Foster’s old teammate.”