15. Jaime

15

JAIME

“Remind me again why we have to work?” Isaac asked, running his hand over my thigh in a slow arc.

We were sitting on the couch together, with me against the arm and Isaac sitting between my legs, his back against my chest.

“Bills, responsibilities, being productive members of society.” I rubbed his chest. “Other adult-sounding reasons.”

“Adulting blows,” he grumbled petulantly.

“It does. And not in a good way.”

Isaac chuckled and dropped his head against my shoulder. “Never in the good way.”

I wrapped my arm around his chest and hugged him closer.

We’d spent last night and all of today doing as little as possible after Isaac’s disastrous meeting with his father yesterday.

He was doing way better than I thought, considering everything, but I wasn’t sure if that was because he was processing it or because he’d shoved it to the back of his mind and was ignoring it.

We hadn’t talked much about what happened, but the more he told me, the more I hated his dad.

I’d only met Isaac’s dad once in the three years we’d been friends, and I hadn’t been impressed. He’d been dismissive and arrogant and treated me like I was Isaac’s housekeeper and not his best friend.

His mother wasn’t much better. I’d never met her, but I’d been in the room plenty of times when Isaac tried to talk to her on the phone. The woman was impossible to track down, and when he did finally get ahold of her, she always had some excuse or another why she couldn’t talk for more than a few minutes.

My parents weren’t perfect, and they’d made plenty of mistakes over the years, but I had no doubt they loved me and my sisters. They wanted the best for us, and they’d sacrificed a lot to help us achieve our goals.

Hockey wasn’t a cheap sport. Camps, coaching, traveling for tournaments, team fees, and the cost of equipment were a huge obstacle for a lot of kids. My parents had invested not just their money but also thousands, if not tens of thousands, of hours sitting in freezing arenas and driving me to tournaments to make sure I could keep playing at the competitive level.

And it wasn’t like my parents only funded my dreams and left my sisters to flounder on their own. All three of us were heavily involved in whatever extracurriculars we enjoyed, and our parents had been at every game, debate, performance, or tournament we’d been part of, cheering us on like the proud parents they were.

Their hard work was the reason Laura and I got full-ride scholarships to top schools. Emma had opted not to go to college, but that was because a degree wouldn’t have helped her achieve her goals.

Even now, our parents did what they could to help, saying their responsibilities as parents didn’t end just because we were adults.

It broke my heart that Isaac didn’t have that kind of support growing up. His father liked to brag about his hockey achievements, and he’d happily thrown money at anyone who could help Isaac improve his game, but that limited support disappeared the moment Isaac had to stop playing because of his brain injury.

He'd essentially spent his entire childhood alone, bouncing between his parents' houses after their divorce and only interacting with other kids at school or when he was playing hockey.

He’d told me plenty of stories about how his parents would lose track of whose house he was supposed to be at when he was a teenager and constantly tried to shuffle him off to the other parent when he was a kid because having him around was inconvenient or they didn’t want to deal with him when he understandably acted out.

I hated that Isaac still questioned his worth because the people who were supposed to love him unconditionally were too busy fighting with each other over stupid shit to realize what they were doing to their kid.

“Want your beer?” Issac asked, breaking me free from my musings.

“Yeah.” Holding on to Isaac’s chest, I anchored him in place as he leaned over and grabbed our bottles off the coffee table. When he was stable again, he handed me my drink. “Thanks.”

“How are you doing?” he asked, sipping his beer. “I’ve been so busy dealing with my dickhead dad I haven’t really asked about how you are.”

“I’m fine,” I assured him.

“Are you worried about work?”

I took a long drink of my beer, nearly draining it. “Sort of.”

“Sort of?”

“I’m worried, but at the same time, I’m not. The chances of me being on the chopping block when they start laying people off are high. I’m one of the newer hires, I make more than some of the other people in my position who’ve been there longer because my education put me higher on the pay scale, and I’m front-end staff, who are always the first to go. I’ve kinda just accepted that I’ll probably be out of a job soon.”

“Are you okay with that? I mean, accepting that you could lose your job is one thing. Being okay with it is another.”

“I’m not happy about it, but I’m not that broken up anymore. If they lay me off, they’ll have to give me some sort of severance pay, and I’ll qualify for unemployment. It’s not ideal, and I’m not fooling myself and thinking I’ll walk into another cushy nine-to-five job, or really any job considering the market out there right now, but I’ll be okay.”

“Do you have any idea what you want to do if you end up having to look for a new job?”

“I heard the strip club in town is hiring,” I joked. “The one Jesse’s stepbrother works at.”

“You’d make a killing stripping. And I’m preemptively naming myself as your lap dance training buddy so you can work on your moves and get that bag.”

I laughed and carefully put my beer bottle on the floor next to the couch, making sure I didn’t lean too far over and risk toppling us from our precarious position.

“I’m afraid it’ll take more than just practicing my moves to make bank,” I said ruefully. “I can dance when all I have to do is catch the beat and shake my ass, but that won’t do much for me on stage.”

“That’s true. You really aren’t a great dancer.” He pinched my thigh. “You’re lucky you’re so hot, otherwise you’d get no play at the clubs.”

I pinched his side in retaliation.

“Hey!” he yelped, jumping like I’d zapped him with a cattle prod.

“Like you’re one to talk.”

“What do you mean?” he protested. “I’m a great dancer.”

“You are when you’re dancing next to me and I make you look better in comparison. On your own, your moves are mid at best.”

“Mid?” He twisted around, his face aghast like I’d just accused him of sacrificing puppies on the weekend. “Bite your tongue.”

“What? Can’t handle the truth?”

Isaac sat up and drained the rest of his beer. “Hold this.” He shoved the bottle into my hand.

I took it and put it on the floor with mine as he jumped up.

“You call these moves mid?” He sort of shuffled back and forth, swinging his hips and raising his arms like he was holding a newspaper over his head to protect it from the rain.

I rolled my lips inward to cover my grin.

“And these?” He dropped his arms and switched to doing what looked like a cross between line dancing and the hustle.

I covered my mouth with my hands, but not before an embarrassingly loud snort escaped.

“And for the pièce de résistance, feast your eyes on this.” He spun around and stuck his ass out, shaking it in the worst attempt at twerking I’d ever seen.

“Oh my god, stop,” I managed to curb my laughter and put my hands over my heart dramatically. “I can’t handle all the talent and hotness.”

He stopped trying to twerk and flipped to shaking his ass back and forth, moving his whole body in ridiculous waves. “Are you overcome with lust yet? I bet it’s taking everything you have to not jump me because of all the sexy I’m serving.”

Swinging my legs over the side of the couch, I slapped his ass with a resounding smack . “Totally getting overwhelmed with something,” I deadpanned.

“Admit it. You’re so seduced right now you can’t even keep your hands to yourself.” He tossed me a wink over his shoulder and kept on dancing, going back to his version of twerking.

Unable to hold it in any longer, I burst out laughing.

“You’re ridiculous.”

“You call this ridiculous?” He turned around so he was facing me again and sort of shimmied, shaking his arms and his chest.

“You look like King Kong if he got ahold of some weed brownies before a concert.”

“That’s an interesting way of saying I’m so hot you bow down to my amazing dance moves,” he quipped.

“You caught me.” I stood and closed the distance between us. “I just can’t help it.” I grabbed his hips and tugged him against me. “You’re too sexy.”

“Told ya.” He stopped dancing. “What are you going to do with me now that you’re so overwhelmed by my sexiness?”

Instead of answering, I kissed him, holding his chin with one hand and moving his face exactly where I wanted it.

He sighed against my lips and wrapped his arms around my waist, letting me keep control as I ravaged his mouth with deep, drugging kisses.

Sliding my other hand from his hip, I gripped his ass and squeezed hard.

His answering groan was low and deep, more of a rumble than an actual groan.

“That’s a good start,” he whispered against my lips when I had to break the kiss to pull in a breath.

I’d never understood how people could forget to breathe while kissing someone until Isaac. It was like my higher brain function shut down when he touched me, and even my lizard brain was too distracted by all the good feels to remember that we needed oxygen to live.

“How’s this?” I murmured, using my hand on his chin to tip his head back so I could press a kiss against his throat.

“Also a good start.” He tilted his head to the side and slid his hands under the back of my shirt.

Rubbing my lips and stubble against the sensitive skin of his throat, I dropped a trail of nibbling kisses down the column of his neck, then soothed the path my lips had taken with a long swipe of my tongue.

“Jesus, Jamie.” Isaac yanked me against him and ground our hard dicks together. “That feels fucking amazing.”

“How does this feel?” I squeezed his ass with one hand and slid the other down his body to cup his cock.

“So good.” He pressed against my hand. “Remind me to use my dance moves to seduce you more often.”

I huffed out a soft laugh and gripped his cock through his pants. “Not sure I’ll survive another dance seduction.” I gave him a few hard strokes, knowing they’d be nothing more than a tease with his sweats in the way.

He moaned and covered my mouth with his, his kiss hard and hot and so damn incredible my entire body felt like it was on fire.

“Do you want to go to my room?” I asked breathlessly when he pulled away.

His eyes darkened, his pupils dilating, as he gave me a long look. “You want to?”

I nodded. I was a big fan of hooking up on the couch, but what I was planning would be more comfortable on a bed.

He took my hand with a salacious grin. “Lead the way.”

When we were in my room, I brought him over to my bed and shoved him onto it.

He fell back, landing on his ass, his hands behind him and a wide grin on his lips.

I stood between his spread legs and pulled off my tee.

He reached behind him and tugged his off, tossing it aside so it fell onto the floor with mine.

“You look so hot right now.” Issac dragged his teeth over his lower lip and looked me up and down, elevator-style.

“Yeah?” I hooked my thumbs over my waistband and shoved my sweats down. “What about now?” I asked as they puddled around my feet. I wasn’t wearing any underwear, and my cock sprang free and hung between us.

“So fucking hot.” He rubbed his dick over his sweats, his eyes on my cock.

“You want to suck me?” I slid one hand through his hair and twisted my fingers in the strands to hold him in place.

He lifted his heated gaze to mine and opened his mouth.

Holding my base, I slipped my cock between his parted lips and dragged it over his waiting tongue. He closed his mouth around it and sucked hard.

“That’s it,” I rasped, rolling my hips and pumping my cock through the tight suction of his mouth. “Just like that.”

He made an encouraging sound and gripped my thighs, kneading the muscles with his strong hands.

Keeping my pace steady, I rocked my hips and gently fucked his mouth.

“Do you remember what I said yesterday at the gym?” I asked.

His eyes darkened, his pupils blowing wide.

“I still want that.”

He moaned around my dick and slid one hand between my thighs. I shifted so I was straddling his knees, spreading my legs for him. He trailed the tips of his fingers over my inner thigh, then cupped my balls.

He gave them a few gentle tugs, then pressed his finger against my taint. Each rock of my hips dragged his digit over the sensitive spot, sending zings of pleasure spiraling out from deep inside me.

“Do you want to know a secret?” I asked, my voice gravelly and harsh, like I’d been chewing on sawdust.

He couldn’t answer with my dick in his mouth but raised his eyebrow questioningly.

“I’ve been experimenting with my fingers.”

He let out a rumbly sound, the vibrations moving up my cock and adding to my building pleasure.

“I fucked myself with them a few times,” I continued, slowing my hips so I didn’t get too close. “It felt really good.”

He popped off my cock with a gasp. “Jesus, Jamie. You’re killing me.”

“So is your finger,” I pointed out.

He grinned wickedly. “This finger?” He slid it through my crease and right over my hole.

I jerked at the contact, my cock bobbing comically between us as a bead of precum slid down my shaft. “Yeah, that one.”

“Tell me what you did to yourself. What felt good,” he rasped, gently scratching his nail over my hole.

The sensation was unlike anything I’d ever felt, and I let out a strangled cry, bucking my hips and smacking him in the cheek with my cock.

“Holy shit,” I panted. “Do that again.”

Chuckling, he did.

I jumped as more of that incredible pleasure filled me.

“That’s definitely way up there on the list,” I managed. “Goddamn.”

“What else? Tell me, Jamie.” Isaac rubbed his dick over his sweats, his tone desperate.

“It took me a while to get used to it, and it’s way better with lube.”

“Go get the lube,” he cut in.

“Reach under my pillow.”

He shot me a curious look and did as I said. A moment later, he pulled out the lube I’d stashed there earlier.

With another of those wicked grins that made my knees weak, he flipped open the cap and slicked up his fingers.

“What else?” he asked, rubbing his fingers together to warm it up. “Tell me what feels good.”

“It was really good when I circled it.”

Reaching between my legs again, he pressed his finger against my hole and rubbed the slippery digit in slow circles.

“Yeah, exactly like that.” I let out a sigh and relaxed my lower body.

“What else?”

“Pushing on it felt amazing.”

He switched to pushing against me. Not hard enough to breach me, just enough to set my nerves on edge with anticipation. “Like that?”

“Yeah,” I rasped. “Exactly like that.”

“Did you fuck yourself with your fingers?”

“Yeah.”

He let out a shuddering breath and pushed harder. We both groaned when the tip of his finger dipped inside me.

“Jesus, Jamie. This is so fucking hot.” He cleared his throat. “Does it feel good?”

“Yeah.” I pushed back on his finger, forcing him to go a bit deeper. “Really good.”

“Keep talking to me, Jamie. Tell me what you need.”

“A little more, that’s it. Go nice and slow,” I coached, bearing down so he popped through my outer ring. “Yes,” I hissed. “Deeper, need more.”

“You’re so fucking hot right now.” He licked his lips and dropped his gaze to my cock.

Before I could ask, he drew my cock into his mouth and sucked, moving over me in a maddeningly slow rhythm as he tunneled deeper inside me.

I knew Isaac had experience with anal sex, the same as me, but it was fundamentally different being on the receiving end. I appreciated how he was letting me lead things.

“God, Z,” I tightened my grip in his hair, needing that extra connection as he moved his mouth over me and pulsed his finger, pushing deeper with each tiny thrust until he was all the way inside me.

“Holy fuck,” I clenched around his finger. I felt full but empty at the same time. “Another one.”

He looked up, surprise shining in his eyes.

“I have another secret. Do you want to hear it?” I asked, clenching around him again.

His look was the visual equivalent of someone saying “Duh.”

“I bought a plug.”

He pulled off my dick with a loud splutter, coughing a few times as he composed himself.

The move caused his finger to move inside me, sending a flurry of tingles through my entire body.

“You did?” he croaked.

“Uh huh.” I nodded.

He twisted his hand, feeling around until he found my prostate.

I cried out as the most delicious pleasure radiated from my ass. I’d found it myself and played with it, but none of my fumbling touches came close to how incredible it felt to have Isaac stroke it.

“Did you use it?” he rasped, fucking me with his finger and nailing my prostate with each pump of his hand.

“Yeah,” I gasped, rocking my hips and catching his rhythm.

“Did it feel good?” He gripped my cock and stroked it, moving his hands in time with each other.

“So good,” I choked out. “But not nearly as good as this.”

He let out a little growl that was way too hot and gently pulled his finger out of me. “Get on the bed.”

“How do you want me?”

“On your back.”

I practically dove onto my bed in my haste to obey, rolling onto my back and spreading my legs for him.

He crawled between my thighs and patted my hip. “Move up a bit so we’ve got room.”

I shimmied until I was more in the middle of the bed, then leaned back on my elbows, my body buzzing with anticipation.

Issac crawled over me and blanketed my body with his, pressing me into the mattress as he slotted our mouths together in a slow, deep kiss.

I lay under him, loving the feeling of his weight on me, his hot skin against mine.

Before I could get lost in his kisses, Isaac pressed two fingers against my hole.

Bearing down, I forced myself to relax as he pushed them inside me.

I wanted this, but it was new and strange. Isaac seemed to inherently understand, and he slowly, carefully worked his fingers inside me, his kisses distracting me enough that there was no pain, only a weird sort of pressure and an unnatural feeling of fullness.

When he was all the way inside me, he dragged them out, stroking my prostate and sending another of those zings through me.

I gasped and arched into him. Isaac swallowed my cry and fucked me with his fingers. I spread my legs as wide as I could and tilted my hips up so he had the perfect angle.

“That’s it, Jamie,” he rasped, breaking our kiss but keeping his lips hovering over mine. “Ride my fingers. Make yourself feel good.”

“How are you so good at this?” I rocked my hips, forcing him to go deeper and faster.

“The internet and a very awkward conversation with Asa.”

“Asa?”

He’d told me Asa figured out we were hooking up, but as far as we knew, he was the only one.

“Yeah.” He sat back on his heels and gripped my cock, stroking me in time with his fingers. “I figured it was better to go to the source and not just believe what I read on the internet.”

“Smart man.” I moaned, barely able to string two thoughts together, let alone have a conversation.

“Are you going to come for me?” he asked, his voice husky and deep.

“I will if you keep doing that.”

Isaac bent down and sucked my cockhead into his mouth again, moving in tandem with his fingers.

My orgasm exploded out of me with almost no warning. One second I was teetering on the edge of release, my entire body alight with pleasure, and the next I was shooting into his mouth with a strangled cry.

Isaac sucked me through it, swallowing me down and working those magical fingers inside me as I rode the waves of my orgasm.

When I could think again, I blinked open my eyes.

Isaac was kneeling between my legs, his sweats pushed down around his thighs and working his cock, his eyes roving over my body.

“C’mere,” I said blearily, making a weird hand motion at him. “Wanna suck you too.”

“Too close,” he gritted out, flicking his gaze to my face, then tracing it over my chest and down my stomach.

I made a feeble attempt to sit up, my body as shaky as a newborn giraffe. All I managed to do was get my elbows under me and flop around a bit.

Isaac let out a loud groan, his hand working his cock furiously as he fucked his fist.

I saw the moment he tipped over, his expression going blissful as he let his head fall back with a low cry and shot over his hand and all over my stomach.

It wasn’t the first time he’d come on me like this, and I lay back, watching his orgasm and relishing every ribbon of cum that landed on my skin like it was a personal brand and Isaac was claiming me.

If someone had told me a few months ago that I had a bit of a cum fetish, I would have called them crazy and had a good laugh with Isaac about it.

Now I was lying on my bed covered in Isaac’s cum and loving every second of it.

“Oh god.” Isaac fell forward, catching himself with his free hand as his body sort of gave out. “Holy fuck.”

“C’mere.” I gently tugged on his arm, not wanting to knock him off balance while he was still out of it.

Isaac lowered himself on top of me and buried his face in my neck, his body still quaking with aftershocks.

I wrapped my arms around him and held tight, giving him a chance to enjoy the afterglow as we cuddled.

“That was so fucking hot,” he said into my neck, his voice muffled. “Watching you ride my fingers like that, feeling you come. So hot.” He pressed several kisses against my skin.

“It felt amazing.” I ran my fingers through his damp hair.

“We’re definitely doing that again.” He let out a weird little laugh that almost sounded like a cough.

“Definitely.”

“And switching it up.”

“Definitely,” I agreed. “I can’t wait until it’s you riding my fingers and me coming all over you.”

He groaned. “I just came, and my head is still spinning, but my dick is already waking up and excited for round two.”

I laughed and hugged him tighter. “Better tell him to chillax. Remember what happened last time he wanted a round two?”

Isaac laughed with me. “I’ll never forget. He’s still mad at me for listening to him.”

“Your fault for trying to edge yourself after you already came. I’m still surprised you managed that second O.”

“Same. My poor dick was practically rubbed raw by the time I got it out.”

“Again, your fault for trying to edge yourself.”

“Actually, it’s your fault.” He lifted his head, a goofy grin on his lips. “You were sitting there all naked and gorgeous and talking dirty to me. And I wasn’t trying to edge myself. I just kept losing my focus because of your hotness and dirty talk.”

“I don’t remember this dirty talk you speak of,” I teased. “All I kept saying was ‘that’s it’ and complimenting your dick.”

“And asking me if I was going to come and telling me how hot I looked, not to mention the bedroom eyes you were giving me.”

“Bedroom eyes? I was just enjoying the show.”

“You pretend to be so innocent, but you’re a little minx.”

“Minx?” I choked out a laugh. “Did we just do a time jump and end up in Victorian England?”

“Maybe. I couldn’t tell you what day it is after that orgasm.” He put his head on my chest and nuzzled his cheek into my pec. “Was that good?”

“Really good.”

“Did I hurt you?”

“Not at all.”

“I think we need to talk about this plug of yours.”

“You do?” I asked innocently.

“Oh yeah. When did you get it?”

“A few weeks ago.”

“Did you order it?”

“Nope. Went to a sex shop near work and picked it up.”

He huffed out a laugh. “Bet that was a fun experience.”

I laughed too. “Definitely eye-opening. The display wall with the plugs and dildos on it was more than a little intimidating. Some people are brave, let’s just say that.”

“What size did you get?”

“The normal one, I think. It’s small, but effective.”

He groaned and pressed his forehead into my chest. “My dick is really liking the mental pictures I have going on right now, but he’s down for the count after that O.”

“Probably for the best.” I kissed his hair, then his forehead when he rested his cheek on my pec again.

“Am I too heavy?”

“Nope. I like you up there.”

“I know we haven’t really talked about it, but would you want me to fuck you?”

“I just rode your fingers until I came so hard I almost blacked out. And I bought a plug and have been practicing with it,” I said teasingly. “What do you think?”

“I didn’t want to assume anything. Fingers and plugs are different from a dick.”

“I know, and I appreciate that. But just so there’s no confusion, yes. I’ve been thinking about it.” I paused. “Have you thought about it?”

“Bottoming for you?”

“Well, yeah, but I meant fucking me.”

“All the time.” He rubbed his lips against my pec. “Both ways.”

My cock stirred at that thought. I hadn’t been sure where Isaac stood on getting fucked. I wanted to try both ways, and it gave me a little thrill to know that he did too.

“Now my dick is demanding a second O,” I said.

“Are you going to listen to him?”

“Not tonight. I’m enjoying this part too much to bother.”

“Yeah.” He let out a contented sigh. “You’re comfy.”

“You are too.”

We lapsed into silence, enjoying the last of the afterglow.

“We should probably get up,” Isaac said reluctantly a few minutes later. “Before we get stuck together.”

“Yeah,” I agreed. The cum between us was starting to dry and get uncomfortable. “And we need to shower.”

“We do. And we should do that together.”

“We should?” I couldn’t keep the happiness out of my voice. I hadn’t wanted to ask because I’d worried it would seem clingy.

“Oh yeah. In fact, I think we should take all of our showers together.” He put his chin on my chest, a mischievous grin on his lips. “Think about all the water we’ll save. We could literally save the planet just by getting naked and wet together every day.”

“How can we say no to saving the planet?”

“We can’t. Not without being terrible people.” He shrugged. “I don’t make the rules. I just enforce them.”

“Or bend them.”

“Or that.” He dropped a kiss on my chest. “Okay. We should get up and get clean.”

“We should,” I agreed.

“On three,” he said. “One, two, three.”

Neither of us moved.

“You were supposed to get up,” he chided.

“How can I get up when you’re on top of me?” I gave his ass a little slap.

“If there’s a will, there’s a way.”

He met my eye, and we burst out laughing.

“Okay,” I wheezed, patting his ass. “How about this. If you get up and get into the bathroom in the next thirty seconds, then I’ll wake you up with a BJ on Saturday.”

“Not tomorrow?”

“You get up an hour before me during the week,” I pointed out. “You really think I’m going to roll my ass out of bed an hour early on a Monday morning? Not even your dick could inspire that.”

“Fair point,” he conceded. “What happens if I don’t move and we’re not in the bathroom in thirty seconds?”

“I’ll throw my plug out and?—”

Isaac rolled off me and right off the bed, landing on the floor in a sort of superhero crouch. Before I could even sit up, he was on his feet and darting out of my room.

“Guess who’s getting a BJ on Saturday,” he hollered from the bathroom.

Laughing so hard my stomach ached, I sat up and climbed to my feet. Not in any hurry, I followed him into the bathroom.

That was one bet I was happy to lose.