Chapter 33

Prism

Swim season was overand now championships were too. But I would still be swimming. At the end of the semester, the majority of Elite would be heading home for the summer. For swimmers who do that, it becomes a sort of honor system that they won’t let themselves get out of shape. Taking any lengthy amount of time off from the pool is asking to fall behind. And while it was against Westbrook policy for Coach to insist swimmers stay here over the summer to train, he liked to remind those who headed home that the two steps forward gained over the season were pointless if we took three steps back over the break.

I didn’t need to worry about taking three steps back this summer because I was staying in Westbrook. My swim bros were staying too. Jamie, Ryan, Wes, and Lars lived here. And now with the rental of our townhouse, Kruger and I did too. Rush was from California, so he’d probably split his time, but with Landry living here, I knew he’d be around. Coach already inboxed us with a summer training schedule, and as daunting as it was, I was glad for the consistency and routine. I’d go home to visit Gram for a while, but even then, I would train.

Off-season also meant a lot of cross-training to make sure our stamina and bodies were strong in all areas. So while I might not be hitting the pool for two-a-day swims, I was still gonna be busy.

I was also pondering a summer job but was struggling a bit with it. I’d only had one job, and that was in high school. It only lasted three days.

I didn’t know what possessed me to think I’d be able to handle a job in fast food. It was loud, chaotic, and people were rude. Not even just the customers but the management and employees too.

I did my best, I really did, but on day three, I might have punched one of the guys on the burger line, and well… it didn’t go over well.

After that, Gram told me it wasn’t important that I have a job and I should just focus on my education. I didn’t exactly need the money. I had plenty of it. My biologics dumped a whole bunch into an account for Gram to take care of me. Made me feel like I was sold, but I tried not to think like that because, honestly, it was only fair that Gram be compensated for raising someone else’s kid.

Turns out, though, Gram never touched it. I found out when I left for Westbrook that she’d put it all into a bank account with my name on it and used her own money to raise me. That meant more to me than the bank book and debit card she handed me with a large balance all in my name. As if she didn’t want compensation for raising me. As if she did it because she wanted to.

She told me that. More than once. Said I was the son she always wanted and had never been able to have. Said I was more hers than anyone else’s, and it was that day I finally unpacked the suitcase that lived under my bed.

I should probably add that she never hurt for money and didn’t actually need the paycheck I came with. She was the second ex-wife of my mother’s father, and she walked away from the marriage with enough bank to last her two lifetimes.

She told me once that she didn’t feel bad about taking him to the cleaners because it was reparation for putting up with him as long as she did.

I was getting sidetracked, my thoughts like a slip-n-slide inside my brain. Adjusting the messenger bag strap across my chest, I pivoted off the sidewalk toward the coffee cart parked nearby. After an intense workout this morning and classes all afternoon, I needed a pick-me-up.

In the form of a mocha. I like chocolate. Sue me.

And maybe I did like extra whipped cream, but I never ordered that. Now I just waited for Arsen to order it for me so I could pretend I hated it when, really, I was secretly thrilled. Made me feel spoiled. Everything he did made me feel that way. His entire glove box was filled with snacks and “necessities” I didn’t actually need. His back seat had a blanket. And in the last week, he’d helped me completely unpack my room and make it the most comfortable space I’d ever had.

Mostly, he unpacked my room. I sat on the bed and watched him. I did help hang the strands of fairy lights he showed up with, though. Not only did they hang in long, vertical strips behind the sheer curtains on the window, but he’d strung them along the ceiling.

At night, the entire room glowed with warm, dim light.

He’d also tossed so many pillows on the bed, all of them covered with soft fur. They went with the UGG brand comforter that also showed up at the door. And right beside the bougie bed he’d piled with soft fabric and pillows, he parked a pair of slippers (yep, those were UGG too) so my feet would never touch the carpet.

I’d never had anyone think so much about me. Hell, I never thought about me as much as he did.

Don’t tell Kruger what I’m about to confess, but, bro, I think Arsen might be husband of the year. *giggle emoji*

Actually, husband of a lifetime.

A paper cup with a weirdly textured lid plunked down in front of me, reminding me that I was once again slip-n-sliding through my own damn brain. I was supposed to be pondering if I could handle a job. I supposed I could go back to mowing lawns and pulling weeds. I was sure the people around here might need that. That was what I did after my three-day stint at the burger joint turned into an episode of Fight Club. I spent the summer doing yard work for people in Gram’s neighborhood.

The pay was decent, and it was something I could do alone with earbuds in. Plus, I liked the physical exertion. Helped keep me in shape.

I guess that meant, technically, I’d had two jobs in my lifetime. Did yard work count?

You’re probably wondering about my major, right? I mean, if I can’t really handle a job, what the heck am I studying at Westbrook? I’m an English major. I like books. They’re quiet. And when you read, you can think about other people’s problems instead of your own. I’m not really sure what I’m going to do with my degree yet. Just add that to the list of things I should be pondering.

After swiping my card, I popped the lid off and tossed it in the nearby can. I wanted to actually enjoy this latte, not grimace over the lid at every sip. Whipped cream with a drizzle of chocolate sauce greeted me, and I leaned down to swipe some of it up with my tongue.

Sugar exploded across my tastebuds, and I groaned a little in appreciation.

“That good?” an amused voice asked from behind.

Shoulders tensing, I glanced over my shoulder.

Recognition slid through me at the sight of his sandy-brown hair and blue eyes. He was around my height but slimmer, without the muscle definition I got from working out. Even though I knew I’d seen him around, his name escaped me. Or maybe I didn’t even know it in the first place.

“Hey,” I said nervously, not even attempting to remember his name. His unexpected arrival had already jumbled my system and made me a little anxious. Reaching across my body, I fidgeted with the three bracelets Arsen had given me while gripping the mocha.

“Theo.” He reminded me, gesturing to himself. “We met last semester when I invited you and your friends to the blackout rave.”

“Oh, right,” I said, recalling the event. “The LGBT thing.” The guy who hit on Wes and turned Max feral. I kept that part to myself.

Theo smiled and bobbed his head. “You remember! Yeah, I’m part of the LGBTQIA+ club here on campus, and we sponsor that party.”

“Right,” I said, scratching at my wrist. Why is he talking to me? No one ever approached me, not usually. If they did, I was usually with Kruger and he did most of the talking. I mean, sure, everyone knew me because everyone knew Elite, but it was kinda some unspoken thing that I was quieter than everyone else. Because of that, most people just waved or left me alone completely.

That was the way I preferred it.

“Well, ah, nice to see you,” I said, completely awkward, actually saluting him with my mocha. What is this, the Marine Corps? I’d never survive in the military.

Embarrassed, I turned to go.

“Wait,” he called.

I froze, and he grabbed his coffee from the barista who’d called his name and then jogged over to my side. I didn’t say anything, just stared.

“So, ah, I was wondering if you’d like to go out sometime.”

Even though I’d already swallowed the sip of latte, I choked. “W-what?”

Theo shuffled, shifting his coffee from one hand to the other. “Too direct?”

I didn’t say anything.

“Uh.” He cleared his throat. “So word got around that you came out to Elite.”

My stomach clenched. It was the first time anyone had approached me about my sexuality and the fact I’d come out to the team. Like, sure, it probably got around and people probably saw me with Arsen, but no one ever just made it a thing.

Was he making it a thing?

No, dumbass, he’s asking you on a date.

“Yeah, I did,” I said for lack of any better social skills. Gram would be ashamed.

Sorry, Gram.

To be fair, no one had ever asked me out before. Except Arsen. A wave of longing swept through me, leaving me achy and hollow. I hadn’t seen him since this morning, and frankly, that was just too long.

Did I mention I was needy? It had only gotten worse the longer we dated. The more I saw of Arsen, the more I wanted. I couldn’t even sleep at night if he wasn’t beside me.

“Cool. Congrats on that by the way.”

“Uh, thanks.”

“So yeah, I figured I’d shoot my shot. You’re hot. I’m single. You’re single. I could show you a good time.”

I blinked.

Theo grinned. “So what do you think? Dinner?”

It wasn’t like this when Arsen asked me on a date. I’d been surprised, yeah, but there had been instant yes energy in my head. The instant urge to jump into his lap.

Right now? I kinda wanted to run away.

Get it together, Matthew.

“Oh, ah…” I stumbled over the words, then reached up to itch my ear. “Uh, I’m not.”

Theo tilted his head. “You’re not interested in going out?”

“I’m not single,” I blurted. “I have a boyfriend.” Frankly, I was surprised he didn’t know.

Theo’s blue eyes widened, genuinely surprised. “You have a boyfriend already?”

I nodded.

“Damn, you Elite guys go fast.”

That reminded me he’d tried to date Wes too. Kinda cringe. Rory would call him a barnacle. I didn’t realize guys could be barnacles to Elite too.

Barnacle (noun):What the swim bro girlfriends call the girls who hang all over Elite.

Barnacles. Crustaceans that latch on to anything in the water and are impossible to remove.

“Well, thanks for the offer,” I said unnervingly. “I should go.”

“Who are you dating?” he asked.

I turned back. “Arsen Andrews.”

Theo’s eyes widened. “Triple A?”

I nodded.

“He’s got good taste.”

What? I felt my face heat. “Bye,” I said and pivoted away.

“Call me!” he shouted to my back.

After that, my brain spaced out. The slip-n-slide was all dried up. My body sort of went on autopilot and didn’t click back on again until I stepped onto the sidewalk leading to the radio station.

The second I realized where I was, that achy, hollow feeling reminded me it was there. After one last sip of the mocha, I tossed it into the trash and went inside.

The building wasn’t that big, and there was no desk or anything in the entry. I remembered the way to the DJ booth from the tour Arsen had given me a few days before, so I headed down the hall to the last door on the left.

The speed of my heart increased, and anticipation buzzed in my stomach. I wasn’t sure I should just walk in. I mean, he was on air, right? I knocked instead.

A moment later, the door pulled open, and he filled my sight.

Relief swept over me as I took in every inch of him I could. God, he looked so good standing there in Adidas track pants and shoes with a designer jacket. His dark hair was parted in the middle and fell to the sides to frame his dark eyes. Surprise lit them up, and then he smiled, my stomach doing a full three-sixty inside me.

“Well, hey there, princess,” he rumbled, and oh, his voice was perfection.

“Bear,” I murmured in a relieved, breathy tone.

Concern flickered in his eyes, and he let go of the door to enclose his hand around mine and draw me in. “What’s the matter?” he asked, wrapping an arm around my back. “What happened?”

I loved the tension in his body. Odd, I know, but it relaxed mine. Like he was here and could take over, and whatever it was, he was well-equipped to handle it.

I sank into him, locking my arms around his waist.

He backed us into the booth and pushed the door closed. “Baby,” he murmured, dipping his face toward my ear. “What’s wrong?”

“I just missed you.”

He paused a second, and then a deep chuckle floated overhead. “Such a needy boy.”

“I’m sorry,” I whispered.

“Never be sorry. I love it.”

“Can I hang out for a while?”

“You don’t have to ask, baby. Beside me is where you belong.”

“I’d rather be in your lap.”

He laughed. “I’m not gonna argue with that.”

I pushed him toward the chair at the sound panel, and he dropped into it immediately. I dumped my bag on the floor and kicked off my sneakers, pulling the sweater he’d worn yesterday over my head.

“Hey,” he said, sitting forward, his hand settling on my bare waist. “Are you sure everything’s okay?”

I nodded and reached for his shirt. “I just wanna touch you.”

He pulled off the jacket and shirt beneath and settled back into the chair.

I straddled his lap, our bare chests colliding, and laid my cheek on the top of his shoulder. “Think this chair can hold our weight?”

“If it doesn’t, I’ll break your fall.”

Listen. I might be needy and clingy, but I definitely didn’t want him to get hurt because of it.

I started to pull away, but he made a gruff noise, pushing me back. “Settle.”

I lay back against him, and he wrapped his arm around me and leaned forward. “Be quiet now, princess, I have to go on air.”

I nodded and closed my eyes, his scent and body heat calming me in a way nothing else ever could. And then he started talking.

Instant hard-on.

“And I’m back and asking: What did you think about that new cover of the classic oldie from…?”

I stopped listening to his words, ears focusing instead on his baritone and the way it lulled me. Tingles raced across my scalp, prickled my neck, and shot down my spine. Despite my dick being rigid, the rest of me was completely relaxed. He was the perfect reset after a long day, the only place I felt truly safe when I laid down my head.

My eyes fluttered closed and my breathing evened out as I drifted while he spoke, never falling asleep completely because then I would miss the timbre of his voice.

I don’t know how long he talked, but it seemed like a while, and when he hit a few buttons and his voice went quiet, I lifted my head, drowsy.

“Is there a lock on the door?”

He raised a single eyebrow. “Yes, and I already locked it.”

I slid off his lap and popped the button on my jeans, pushing them down in one swoop.

His stare dropped to my dick, and I reached for the waistband of his pants. “It’s not close enough, Arsen. You don’t even have to fuck me. I just want you inside me.”

The desperation must have come through in my tone because, suddenly, he was on his feet and the barrier between us was gone.

I whimpered at the sight of his dick and its rigid state. “Mine,” I whispered, wrapping my hand around it possessively.

“All yours, baby.” He agreed, fishing through my discarded jeans for a packet of lube.

“We don’t need that,” I told him, and he gave me a stern look.

“If you want my dick inside you, then we’re using it.”

I pouted, and he ripped it open with his teeth, trying to coat his dick but couldn’t because I wouldn’t let go.

Laughing under his breath, he reached around and used the liquid to wet my crack and push into my hole. I grunted a little at the abrupt intrusion and tumbled into his chest. Keeping a firm hold on his dick, I moaned, pushing my ass out in encouragement.

“You know the rules, princess. No slick, no dick.”

Yes, he actually said that. And it wasn’t the first time. But that was the rule. He refused to have sex with me without lube because he didn’t want to hurt me.

I arched my back, and he hummed. “Good boy.”

“I want it, bear.”

“You have to let go of it first.”

I let him go, and he sat down, coating himself with what was left of the lube and holding out his hand. I climbed into his lap again and reached around to position him at my entrance.

“Don’t say it,” I pleaded, meeting his eyes.

He sighed, smoothing his hands over my hips. “Go on, baby, take what you need.”

I sank onto him in one hard push, forcing his hard cock all the way in without hesitation. Both of us groaned, and I melted against him, slumping into his chest while my body burned and stretched around him.

After the burn settled into a full, snug feeling, I sighed. “Thank you, bear.”

“It’s hardly a sacrifice,” he murmured, leaning down to kiss the top of my shoulder.

I smiled against him. “It didn’t hurt.”

He didn’t like it when I didn’t go slow, taking him inch by inch and easing his body into mine.

Correction: He did like it. He just thought it would hurt me and constantly told me to go easy.

Sometimes I didn’t want easy. Sometimes I wanted to sit on his cock and let it split me open.

I kissed the underside of his jaw and reached for his nipple to tug on the piercing. “I could sit here like this all day,” I whispered. “As if I’d ever call him.”

Arsen’s body went rigid. Inside me, his dick spasmed. “Call who?”

Fuck. It’s not my fault his dick short-circuits my brain. “No one.”

“Matthew Miller Prism,” he intoned.

I sat back and rocked my hips.

His eyes narrowed. “Are you trying to distract me?”

Anxious, I tugged his nipple.

“Did someone hit on you?” he pressed but didn’t yell.

Reluctantly, I nodded.

He sucked in a breath. “When?”

“Before I came here.”

He reached up to grab my chin. “Did he touch you?”

“No.” I was quick to deny it. “I was just… surprised.” My eyes slid away, then came back. “It made me want you.”

His dick spasmed in me again. The dark expression on his face was a lot less effective when I could feel how hard he was.

“What happened?”

I quickly told him about Theo. “That’s all. He just asked me out. I told him I was dating you.”

He seemed suspicious. “He didn’t know?”

I shrugged. “Said he didn’t.”

“Guess I need to make it clear, then,” he rumbled, a possessive gleam in his eye.

I squeaked when his arm clamped around my lower back to hold me in his lap as the chair rolled right up to his equipment. The song playing cut off midway, and he clicked a few other buttons until the red ON AIR sign lit up.

“Sorry to interrupt our regularly scheduled and banging playlist, but Triple A has a PSA.”

Still stuffed full of his cock, I stared at him wide-eyed as he grabbed the mic and pulled it closer.

He wouldn’t.

“I just want to make it crystal clear to all my listeners, on campus and beyond, that Matthew Prism is mine. My boyfriend and off-limits to literally all of you. I’m happy to share beats, remixes, and my opinion on music, but I do not share him. Ever. Do not make me repeat myself. You won’t like the consequences.”

He pushed the mic away, and the ON AIR sign went dark. A new song came on, and he sprawled back in the chair, face smug.

He did.

“I cannot believe you did that,” I said, surprised but also insanely turned on.

He’d just claimed me. To the entire campus. For a guy who’d mostly been renounced and hidden, this was a big fucking deal to me. Something I didn’t even know I needed until it was mine.

“You’re acting like a caveman.” I admonished him even as butterflies danced in my stomach like they were in a fucking spring meadow.

One eyebrow arched, dark eyes a dangerous challenge. Calmly, he palmed my hips, fingers sliding against my lower back. “Oh no, princess. If you want caveman, I’ll show you caveman.”

“I never said I wanted—ughnnn.” The protest cut off in favor of a long, low moan as he thrust up, his dick so hard it literally robbed all function of my brain.

Between us, my dick jerked, the sensitive tip brushing against his abs. I whimpered and rubbed it on him again, but he was too far gone to notice, completely overruled with determination. He stood so fast that the chair rolled backward and my legs clamped around his waist. I could feel the tendons in his forearm flex as he slid it under my ass to hold me up. Before I even caught my breath, he bent forward, forcing me against the sound panel, buttons and knobs pressed into my bare back.

Gasping, I tried to sit up, afraid I’d accidentally trip something. His eyes flashed, hand pressing into my shoulder to pin me in place.

“Caveman is me breeding that tight, needy hole right here in the sound booth against all these switches and buttons. His eyes flicked to something over my shoulder, and I heard something click. “I’ll put us on air so the entire campus can hear the way you moan for me. The way it sounds when I’m balls deep and the quiet, shy swimmer is begging for release and for my cum deep in your belly.”

I groaned, hips moving because the picture he painted was so erotic.

“You’d like that, wouldn’t you, princess? For me to claim you right here, right now, and let everyone hear so there would be not a single doubt in anyone’s mind exactly who you belong to.”

He pulled out and thrust in, my body sliding up the table he pinned me against. The hard knobs were unforgiving as they dug into my shoulder blades, and it was like they, too, were reminding me I was his and his alone.

“Go ahead and say my name,” he grunted, rolling his hips again. God, his hip action was unparalleled as though he were dancing, except the music was my body and he moved to my beat.

Between us, my cock leaked all over my lower belly, begging for me to stroke it, but when I reached for it, he made a sound and shook his head.

“That’s mine,” he rumbled, hammering into me again. My head fell back, more buttons being pressed.

“Say my name, Matthew. Tell everyone who owns you.”

“Arsen.” I panted, reaching over my head to brace my palm on the edge of the table.

“Again,” he demanded, setting a pace that made me feel like I was floating while my channel clenched around him, begging for even more.

“Arsen.”

His body bent over mine, teeth nipping at my nipple before sucking it deep into his mouth. I moaned and arched into his ministrations, and he nipped at it again.

He stood, pulling me with him, and as he carried me across the small room, I had a moment of clarity to marvel at how good he was at hauling me around.

The shock of cold leather hit my back but lasted only a second because Arsen’s body followed me down, pinning me to the small loveseat. I widened my legs instantly, throwing one over the back and the other over the side to rest my foot on the floor.

“Good boy,” he praised, leaning in to capture my lips.

The kiss was sloppy as he continued to fuck me with us mainly just mouthing at the other in between panting breaths. On either side of me, his arms quivered with the exertion of hovering his body over mine while at the same time drilling me into the cushions.

I said his name again and again until it was a chant, and he never once looked away from my face, the intensity of his onyx stare branding me from the inside out.

“I want you to come now,” he said, tone gravelly and deep. “Come all over me, Matthew.

I nodded, reaching between us to fist my overheated dick. It only took two strokes before I came apart, white ropes of cum spurting out of me like an explosion. I threw my head back, arching my neck as I moaned long and low. Even though my eyes were closed, light exploded behind my lids. Mostly out of my mind, I still managed to aim my cock up, my release splattering his stomach as he fucked me.

The scent of sex was heavy in the air, my chest slick with sweat. Aftershocks of my orgasm rolled over me again and again, prolonging my ecstasy. The muscles in his neck bulged, and his body tensed.

“Give it to me, bear,” I whispered, brushing a hand against the tattoo running down his side.

He growled just the like bear he was, and he began to twitch. Right before he could fill me up, he pulled out, his dick already starting to spurt before he grabbed it and aimed it all over my chest. His entire body shook with pleasure as he poured out all over my skin.

Through it all, he still stared, his lids just heavier now.

His breathing labored, he dropped his hand, and I reached between us to take his dick instead, milking any lingering pleasure before slipping to his balls and massaging them in my palm.

Still between my wide-spread legs, he rose to his knees. His skin glistened with sweat. The tattoos all over his arm, chest, and side seemed a little darker against his skin. His nipples were tight even though I hadn’t touched them.

Without a word, he dropped his hand onto my middle, smearing the puddle of his release all over my skin. He concentrated on this task as though it were life or death, his expression serious and intense. He rubbed it all over, across my pecs, down the center of my chest, and in circles on my abs. When I thought he was satisfied, he swirled his finger inside my belly button, marking that too.

My lips parted to say something, but his hot stare made me bite my tongue.

Grunting, he finally lifted his hand, swiping up his digits with the width of his tongue. Rumbling in satisfaction, he stared at me, and the bottom of my belly fell out.

“You look good lying there all docile and submissive beneath me,” he told me. “With my cum marking your skin.”

When he finally released me from the chokehold of his territorial stare, I dragged in a shuddering breath. It didn’t stay in my lungs long, though, because he swiped two thick fingers down the release covering his own chest and then pushed them into my well-fucked hole.

“It’s not yours,” I whined, and he smiled.

Pulling his fingers from me, he grabbed his softening dick, swiping what little was left on his tip and pushing that inside me too.

“I know you don’t like being sticky, baby. But seeing you wearing me like a second skin is seriously satisfying.”

“I’ll wear it for you, bear.”

He grunted. “Good. You’ll reek of me, and anyone who comes near you will smell me too.”

I gasped and looked toward the sound panel. “Oh my God. Did the entire campus really hear that?”

He laughed, a deep rumble that originated right from the center of his chest. “Fuck no. Like hell I’d ever let anyone hear all those perfect little whines you make and the pleading way you say my name.”

I eyed him skeptically, and he laughed.

“I am so possessive of you that I just warned off the campus and rubbed my jizz on you like body lotion. You think I would actually let anyone hear you moan?”

I relaxed into the small couch.

“Got you all riled up, though, didn’t I? Me showing off how fucking sexy you are.”

My face and neck heated.

He leaned down and kissed me. Against my lips, he said, “You are sexy, princess, and I’m greedy.”

“I love you.”

He made a soft sound and kissed me again. “I love you too.”

There was a click across the room, and he cursed, pushing away from me to go over and load up a few more songs. I stayed where I was, perusing his naked form, particularly his bare ass, which was far more toned than it had a right to be. I mean, I worked out way more than he did. After ogling that ass, I drifted down to his long legs with their dark hair that was such a contrast to my shaved ones. I loved the way it felt when our legs were tangled together.

On the back of his right calf was a tattoo that had taken me a little while to find. Usually, he was facing me when we were naked, and usually, I was too blissed-out to notice the backs of his lower legs.

He did tell me he liked sci-fi, but the alien being beamed up to his spaceship right there in black ink sort of hammered his words home.

It was probably my favorite tattoo on his entire body. It even beat out his tramp stamp.

Yep. My boyfriend has a tramp stamp. He insists it is not a tramp stamp, but I mean, it was right there in the small of his back right above his ass.

The design was a sexy-as-hell symbol I initially didn’t know the meaning of. Karma. What goes around comes around, he’d told me. The ultimate consequence of a person’s actions.

And you and I both know Arsen likes to inform people of the consequences of their actions.

“Enjoying the view?” he asked, completely smug, turning around to give me a full-frontal view.

Fucking of course I was.

“What about all the buttons I was lying on?” I asked because it was easier than trying to articulate just how much I loved the view. And the man providing it. I pushed up from the couch, grimacing at the feeling of drying cum on my midsection.

The things I did for this man.

“I had most everything locked,” he told me with a wink.

Must have been springtime in my stomach because those butterflies were out again.

“Let’s get cleaned up,” he suggested. “I only have a few more songs before I have to be back on.”

I grabbed a pack of wipes out of my messenger bag (I don’t like messes, remember) and handed them to him first. He ripped them open, but instead of using one on himself, he cleaned me up first. This kind of intimacy always hit a little different. I mean, we’d literally just been going at it and he’d been talking filthy to me, but it was somehow less embarrassing than him using wipes to clean up my lower half.

His warm laugh filled the room. “Are you shy?” he teased.

I didn’t say anything.

He tossed away the wipes he was done with and grabbed another, reaching for my chest.

I caught his wrist, frowning. “You said you wanted me to wear it.”

“You’re going to be uncomfortable,” he said, reaching for me again.

I denied him again. “Leave it. I’m not uncomfortable.”

He gave me the I know you’re lying look, and I sighed.

“It’s a little crusty,” I admitted, and he laughed. “But I want it, okay? For a little while. Maybe later you can put some where I like it.”

“Mmm,” he hummed, pulling me against him. “One of these days, I’m going to buy a plug so I can fill you up and let you walk around full of me all day.”

My cock jerked, and with us being pressed together, he felt it.

A broad shit-eating grin lit up his face. “Oh, someone loves that idea.”

“Bear,” I whined, hiding my face in his neck.

He laughed and rubbed over the back of my shoulder. “I’m ordering one. A pink one.”

He was literally obsessed with putting me in pink. That had to be some kind of kink. I didn’t complain, though, because I kinda liked it. Whenever I had something in pink, he always called me precious.

Who wouldn’t want to be precious to someone?

After we were both cleaned up and dressed, I sat in his lap for a little while longer, just soaking in his presence.

My phone went off, so I dragged myself to my bag and checked it, finding several texts from Kruger.

Kruger:Where you at, P?

Kruger:Never mind. I checked the app. The radio station. Predictable.

Kruger: Glad you’re happy, bro.

Kruger: Are you gonna give me any attention? My feelings are hurt, bro.

I laughed and typed in a reply.

Prism: Brother time now? Wanna grab dinner before movie night?

Kruger: Tacos?

Prism: *taco emoji*

Kruger: I’m so hungry I could eat the ass out of a low-flying goose!

Prism: *puking emoji*

Kruger: I’ll come pick you up. Meet me outside in a few.

Prism: Okay.

“Everything okay?” Arsen asked.

“Kruger’s coming to get me. He wants tacos.”

“The place right off campus?” he asked.

I nodded. “Want me to pick some up for you for when you get done here?”

“Sure, baby.”

I gathered up my stuff and then reluctantly shuffled over to say bye.

He smiled and pulled me into his lap, kissing my temple. “I’ll see you in a little while.”

“Okay.”

“I’d walk you out, but I’m kinda chained to this room.”

“You don’t have to walk me out,” I mused.

“Maybe I want to.”

“I’ll see you later,” I said, getting up.

“Hey,” he called, and when I turned, he crooked his finger at me. I came back over and bent so we could kiss. “Love you,” he whispered against my lips.

“Love you too,” I repeated and then let myself out of the booth.

Outside, the sun was a little lower in the sky than before, but it was still light out. Kruger wasn’t in the parking lot yet, so I walked around the side of the building to see the G wagon. Yes, I was so needy I wanted to see my boyfriend’s car.

The second I turned the corner of the building, I noticed a black SUV with dark-tinted windows parked in front of it, nearly blocking it from view.

I jogged forward. “Hey!” I yelled, my stomach clenching but anger overruling any stress I felt at confronting a stranger. I wasn’t about to let someone mess with Arsen’s Mercedes. He loved that thing.

And frankly, so did I. It had snacks.

The passenger door that was open on the side facing the Mercedes banged closed, whoever had been out there jumping back inside.

The engine revved and tires squealed, and the SUV shot forward. I jolted back, leaping onto the sidewalk and out of its path.

Heart pounding furiously, I straightened and turned just as the driver slammed on their brakes. Two men sprang out of the back seat and rushed me. I was so caught off guard that my reaction was delayed.

Yanking off my bag, I swung it, slamming it into one of the men. He merely batted it away, so I swung, catching him in the jaw with my fist.

He fell to the side, but the other guy grabbed me by the arm and tugged. We wrestled for a few minutes. I took a right hook to the face, but I returned it with a roundhouse kick to the middle.

Out of nowhere, something hard and heavy slammed into the back of my head, and I saw stars.

They weren’t nearly as pretty as the fairy lights Arsen hung in my bedroom.

And then there was no light at all.