Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 84289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84289 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
“Think we’re a little more than friends now, Ollie. We’ve both railed each other hard every single night this week.”
“That’s what friends are for,” he says.
I swallow. “I want to try with you. For real.”
“Is this where you ask me if I’ll experiment with you?” he asks. “If you want to coat me in latex, or force me to wear lacy panties, or pour hot wax on my skin, I’m down, you just need to give me a heads up.”
“Not what I meant, but noted.”
My cock throbs a little at how eager he is, but it doesn’t surprise me anymore.
Oliver is the most sexually adventurous person I’ve ever been with, and we’ve barely touched the iceberg of what we can do together.
“What’s up, Niko?”
“This is about to be cheesy, and I hate myself for it.”
“God, I’m so ready.”
“Hush.”
“Love you.”
Something inside me fizzes when he says those words to me.
“This is me, formally asking you,” I tell him. “I want to be your boyfriend, Oliver Ashford. Your actual boyfriend. Will you have me?”
I expect him to laugh it off again. Maybe make fun of me, a little more.
But he takes it seriously, and it gives me a funny feeling inside again, like I’m a virgin again, finally making plans with my first crush.
“You want to be my boyfriend?” he asks in a soft tone.
“I really do. I think you deserve better, but I don’t want to live a life without you in it, Oliver.”
“I would love to be your boyfriend,” he tells me.
And I can see a glimmer of something behind his eyes.
It’s the first time anyone’s asked him that, for real.
And I fucking won the lottery getting to be that person for him.
He leans in and crushes his lips to mine, hard and possessive. And unlike at the winter formal, the only thing that makes me feel intoxicated is him.
“I’ll stop posting videos on the Camboy site,” I tell him, gripping him close. “You belong to me, and I belong to you.”
“I mean, if you want to stop posting, you can. But I can guarantee you that it’ll only continue to turn me the fuck on if you do keep going with it. You can express yourself however you want, boyfriend.”
“How do you exist?” I ask him. “You’re too perfect. What’s the catch?”
“The catch is that I’m massively demanding in bed, sometimes still nervous socially, and… I’m needy.”
I kiss him again.
And then a second time.
“Be needy. Be even needier. I want to give you everything you fucking need.”
“Alright, alright, break it up, lovebirds,” Hunter says as he comes up beside us, grinning as he claps me on the back.
“Give me a fuckin’ break,” Oliver tells Hunter. “I watched you and Rayne suck face earlier in the semester, so I’m allowed to do it at a party.”
Rayne’s not far behind Hunter, and he comes up, dancing a little with a bubbly red drink in his hand.
“Hey, freshman,” Rayne tells Ollie. “Seems like you’re having a good night.”
“Kind of the best night of my life.”
“Holy shit. Wait,” I say, nodding over toward the far wall. “Did Sev actually come out tonight?”
I see one of the other Double Daggers guys helping Sev out onto the edge of the room, positioning his wheelchair.
“Let’s go say hi,” Oliver offers.
We head over and Sevan looks up at me and immediately rolls his eyes.
“Save it, Niko,” he tells me.
“Look at you,” I say anyway. “Incredible suit. You look good in baby blue.”
He looks like a badass with the tattoos that peek out of the bottom of the sleeves, and one that just inches out from the top of the few undone buttons of his shirt.
“I didn’t think I was going to bother coming, because I can’t dance for another month, at least. But I needed to get the hell out of my room.”
Weston appears at our side, balancing three different red drinks in his hands.
“Here. Take one,” Wes tells Sevan.
Sevan glares up at him. “Did you poison it, Wes?”
“No. I’m not a fucking asshole, even if you are,” Weston tells him.
Sevan takes the drink and nods. “Right. Forgot you’re the good cop. You’d never hurt me, even if you wish I’d get hurt.”
Wes just flips him off after he hands me one of the other drinks and Ollie the final one.
“These are fucking incredible. They’re serving cranberry-orange whatever-the-fuck spritzers, but I also have this, if you want to jazz it up.”
Weston slides out a little thin bottle of white rum from his jacket pocket.
“Good cop, breaking a rule? Give me some of that,” Sev demands.
Weston hands him the liquor then all of us pass it around, adding some to our drinks.
“You have a date tonight, Weston?” Sev asks him.
“Nope,” Wes says proudly. “And I’m not ashamed of it. Have fun, guys. I’m going to go dance my ass off, but come find me if you need more of this good-good.”