Chapter Thirteen

Dylan

Studying is the last thing I want to be doing right now, but when Myles messaged me about his study group that meets once a week, I decided I really should make an effort. Minnie is always on my case about how important education is. Myles agreed that he and his friends would meet here at Happy's, since I have a shift tonight.

Vada didn't want to come, but I know for a fact that bloody Roman has turned their study sessions into a game—one I'm not invited to.

My phone vibrates and I pick it up and see a message from Logan.

Logan

How did not Chad take the no underwear? If you don't reply I know you two are banging in his office.

I chuckle at the fact he keeps calling Brad "not Chad."

Dylan

He doesn't know yet. He looked constipated and disappeared a while ago.

Myles looks up at me. "You know, you're actually supposed to study."

Placing my phone down, I smirk at him, and he reaches out and grabs it.

"What are you hiding in here?" he asks when he can't get past the facial recognition.

"Wouldn't you like to know?"

The others at the table laugh. Myles gets up from his spot and slides my phone into his pocket. "Want a drink?"

I nod and he walks over to the bar. Turning, I look to see if Brad has made his way back out, but I'm disappointed when I see that it's just Henry.

After a few minutes, Myles leans down from behind me and places a jug of lemonade in front of me with a glass. If I didn't know he has a major crush on Oscar, who he is sitting next to, I'd be punching him for being in my personal space. The dick holds up my phone and it unlocks.

Before I know what's happening, my phone is ripped from Myles's hand. "Don't touch what doesn't belong to you," Brad snaps.

I don't know if he means me or my phone. "Shit! Sorry, man. I was just fucking around."

Standing from my chair, I stare at Brad. "You don't have to apologise to him, Myles. He is being a dick," I grit out, grabbing Brad by his black work shirt, and he grunts at me. "We need to talk."

I drag him away from my new friends. "Are you serious right now?"

"What?" Brad argues. "He was touching you."

I scoff and laugh consecutively. "So what? You're not my father."

"Thank god for that—this would be super weird if I was."

"Ugh! For fuck's sake!" I storm away from him and into his office. Slamming the door for dramatics.

Brad opens the door and closes it. "You are infuriating," he huffs out.

Turning to face him, I throw my hands in the air. "Me?! Have you met you? Your caveman act out there embarrassed me in front of my new friends, and just an FYI, Myles is gay."

"I don't give a shit if Myles is gay or not, Dylan. No man puts his hands on you. Taking something from anyone and withholding it is not fucking okay. And that is not why you are infuriating."

"So why then?"

"You know exactly why," he says, taking a step closer. I counter his step forwards with a step backwards until the backs of my legs hit his desk. He takes one last step and cages me between his arms. "You are infuriating because I'm trying to be a gentleman. I want you to get to know me and make sure you want me and won't have regrets, and then you forget to wear underwear today."

I knew if I didn't wear them under my leggings, he would be able to tell. He knows I refuse to wear G-strings. Who wants to walk around with a wedgie all damn day? Not me. Boy legs are my jam, comfort is how I roll.

"I want you so bad," he rumbles out.

"So take me. I don't want to wait any longer. I need you, Brad."

He looks torn, like he wants to rip my clothes off and fuck me hard against his desk, but he's holding back because he thinks he has to be a gentleman.

"Stop overthinking it," I add. "It will hurt no matter what, and honestly, I couldn't think of anywhere else I would want to lose my V-card. Happy's has felt like home since the day I stepped foot in those doors."

"Fuck it," Brad says, smashing his lips to mine.

I pull back only long enough to jump into his arms and wrap my legs around his waist.

Brad kisses me like a starved man, and before I know it, my back is pressed up against the office door. He still doesn't break the kiss as I hear the lock engage.

He finally pulls back, breathless, and places his forehead against mine. "Are you sure this is what you want?"

I nod eagerly.

"Words, Dylan. I need to hear you say it."

"Yes, Brad, I want you to fuck me in your office."

Brad chuckles and shakes his head as he places me down on my feet. He moves over to his desk and pushes it back, then walks over to the sofa and pulls it out into a bed. I raise a brow at him. Is this where he brings the random women he meets in the bar? I decide I don't care—this is Brad. I want this with him, and a sofa he has probably fucked a hundred girls on won't stop me from taking what I want.

"Get your sexy ass on the bed," he says, and I smirk at him, but I do as he asks and move across his office, crawling up the bed with my arse high in the air. "I wouldn't do that if I were you."

Looking back over my shoulder, I smile. "That's number eleven on my list," I say and wink.

"I can't wait to work my way down your list, but how about we start with the most important part?"

"What is the most important part?"

Brad smiles cheekily at me. "Getting you to have orgasms, lots and lots of orgasms."

I for sure thought he would have said sex.

Lying down, I flip onto my back and watch as Brad unbuttons his shirt and pulls it open, revealing what's underneath. Fuck, he is hot. I want to lick him from head to toe, but tonight I will let him lead. I can lick him next time.

Next, he undoes his belt, pulling it out of the loops in his slacks in one go, then drops it onto the floor. Before I know it, Brad is naked, in all his glory, and I swallow the lump in my throat. This is really happening. I want to text Vada and freak out a little. How is something that big supposed to fit inside me?

Brad moves closer, kneels onto the sofa bed, and leans his body over mine, moving a strand of hair from my face. "Are you okay?" he asks.

"I'm fine," I reply.

He studies my face for a second. "You're lying. Tell me what's wrong. If you're having second thoughts, we can stop. You can tell me to stop at any point, and I will."

I nod. "I know. I'm just freaking out a little. Not enough to not want it, but how is that anaconda supposed to fit inside me?"

Brad laughs. "It will fit because I'm going to take my time with you. I won't lie—it's going to hurt, and probably won't be all that good for you this time, or so I have been told."

"Popped a few cherries back in the olden days?"

Brad pushes up on his haunches and smirks before he starts to tickle me. "Again with the old comments, and no, I have never popped anyone's cherry. That is a personal experience, and I have never liked anyone enough to want to do that."

My damn heart flutters—he likes me. It's still hard to process. I always thought I wasn't very likeable; so many people hate that I'm outspoken, loud, and have no filter.

"Now, I'm going to get you naked," he says, hooking his fingers into my leggings.

I lift my arse a little so he can slide them all the way down, but he takes his time, changing positions so he can lean down and place kisses along my exposed skin. Goosebumps break out at the light touches and need shoots straight to my core. I have never wanted to shove someone's face between my legs, but right now I need something more, yet I really don't know what. All I know is I need him to touch me.

The leggings reach my ankles, and he rips them off and throws them to the floor. His calloused hands are rough against my skin, and I like that Brad is all man. He spreads my legs wider and my cheeks heat knowing he is looking at me, half naked on his sofa. His kisses stop before he gets too close. Instead, he inhales deeply, and on instinct I snap my legs closed. He chuckles and opens them.

"I want to smell you," he says.

"Should I shower first?" I ask. My damn inexperience shows, and I feel every bit of my age right now.

"Fuck no, if I wanted to smell body wash, I would take my own shower. I want to smell you, Dylan, and I can't wait to taste you."

"Oh," I squeak. The embarrassment fades away as he grips the bottom of my shirt and helps me take it off, along with my bra.

Opening my mouth, I quickly snap it shut. Being naked in front of him has me wanting to ask to turn the lights off, but the way he is looking at me, like I'm the most precious thing in the world, has tears springing to my eyes. Not enough to cry actual tears, though. Because that would be next-level embarrassment, and I would have to quit working at the bar, give up school, and move off the grid to live off the land.

"Oh god," I whimper, as his kisses start at my belly button. He works his way up my body, his mouth closing around one of my nipples, and I'm a goner. I have wanted this for so long, and I'm not sorry I waited.

"Brad," I whisper.

He takes his time, kissing every inch of my body, teasing me every time he is close to where I want him to be until every nerve ending screams fuck me. The second he breathes on my pussy, I almost orgasm. I can feel it everywhere.

His tongue swipes across my clit, shockwaves rock my core, and I arch my back off the sofa. Brad chuckles against my pussy and places a hand on my stomach to hold me down.

I don't know what he is doing down there, but before long, my entire head feels like it's going to explode. The tension has built and built inside my body, and suddenly an orgasm rips through me, my legs clamping Brad's head between them.

"Holy fucking shit," I cry out as my entire body spasms.

Brad dislodges his head from between my legs and crawls overtop of me. A condom magically appears, and he rips the shiny package with his teeth. I watch on nervously as he removes the rubber and slides it down his length one-handed.

"Are you sure you're ready?" he asks me as he rubs his cock against my wetness, something I thought I would be embarrassed about.

"I'm sure," I reply. The head of his cock pushes against my hole. Brad inhales.

"Grab my shoulders and dig your nails in. I want to hurt with you."

I nod, doing as he asks. "Just do it," I tell him. I need to just rip the Band-Aid off, so to speak.

Brad nods, and in one swift movement, he pushes inside me. Tears roll down my cheeks and my nails dig into his skin. He doesn't move; he just waits with me until I start breathing again. I don't think I'm going to adjust to his size—it feels like it's in my stomach.

He slowly starts to move again, and the burn is tolerable, but still not pleasant.

"You're so damn tight," he grits out. "I'm not going to last very long."

"Oh, thank god," I say. "Because this is not pleasant at all."

Brad smiles at me. "I promise it gets better."

I hope it does, because right this second, my brain is screaming that this shit is overrated. The stuff before was amazing, so I cling to that memory as I squeeze my eyes shut.

"Open your eyes so I can look at you while I come."

I do as he asks, and he's already watching me intensely. Just knowing he is sharing this with me makes it all worth it. He rocks in and out of me gently a couple more times, then his entire body tenses, and the sound that falls from his lips is the sexiest thing I have ever heard.

He slowly pulls out, and I instantly feel the loss of him inside me as he slips from the sofa and disposes of the condom.

He walks over to a small makeshift sink and runs the tap, wetting the edge of the shirt he took off earlier, then comes back over to me and sits on the edge of the bed. Pushing my legs open, he presses the cool material against me, helping to ease the burn.

"Thank you," I whisper.

"You don't have to thank me for taking care of you, Dylan. I will always look after your needs before my own."

Big fat tears roll down my cheeks at his words. I have never had someone care so much about taking care of me. Minnie does a great job, but he is my family, and deep down I feel like he only agreed to take me because he knows what happens to kids who go into the system. Brad has no reason to want to care for me, and yet here he is. I don't know how I feel about all these new emotions or even where to begin with processing them. I have always kept everything locked up tight, and Brad has managed to smash through all of my walls.