“B!” Tyler shouted at me from just outside the car door.
I slouched down so that I could better see him through the passenger side window. He was perusing a newspaper which he pushed and held against the window for me to view. He’d circled a listing in a big, black circle.
“Bad area but good price!” he told me through the window.
“Let’s go!” I shouted at him, acknowledging the deal.
We showed up to the random apartment building in hopes that we could view without an appointment. Sure enough, the scumbag landlord was more than willing to show it off.
“Where do you live now?” he’d asked us. “I will say that this isn’t the safest area of town.”
“We live in a car,” Tyler said seriously, trying not to laugh.
The man looked at us like we were nuts, “We’ll need a deposit.”
“No problem,” Tyler spoke again. “We have money. Just need a roof.”
“Preferably not a mobile roof,” I added with a laugh.
Tyler looked at me and smiled.
A shake to my shoulder woke me from my dreaming.
I groaned loudly, rubbing at my eyes without thinking—the back of my hand resultantly stained black. With my headphones on and Brian’s shoulder as a pillow, I slept for almost the entirety of our flight.
As soon as I peered out the window, I knew that I was home. Home. What a fickle word. Lenox had been my home for nineteen years; but Southern California felt more like home in two years than Lenox ever did.
“Good sleep?” Brian asked with a grin. “You snored the whole flight.”
“I did not,” I protested, my cheeks hot and flushed.
“Like a fucking wildebeest.”
“Shut up,” I whined.
“That’s what I was thinking,” he continued with his stupid grin. “But no, it just got louder and louder.”
Brian continued to harass me about my apparent snoring all the way to the road where we waited for a cab.
“Are you done?” I finally groaned.
He straightened up and laughed, “I’ll never be done. It was so loud, Blair.”
A cab disrupted his next sequence of teasing. I was very grateful.
The driver made absolutely no small talk which left Brian and I stranded in an awkward silence. Brian cleared his throat once and nearly panicked our driver so we were carefully to be absolutely still from then on.
I was so relieved to reach our hotel. The shower was calling out to me with serious desperation. My hair was still unreasonably big. I’d be happy to oblige the shower with my filth.
“We have a reservation,” Brian told the lady working the front desk. “Haner.”
“Let me just see…” she said quietly as she hit some keys on her keyboard. “Oh! Brian and Blair Haner?”
I was about to correct her, like it mattered, when Brian responded loudly with a ‘yup!’
She gave us our room key, information about the complimentary breakfast and wished us a happy stay. I waited until we were in the elevator to speak.
“Brian and Blair Haner?” I smirked. “Really, Bri?”
“To be fair,” he chuckled, “I did give your full name. Peterson. She is obviously an idiot.”
“Obviously,” I jested.
“Or psychic,” he added with a wink. “Whichever.”
“Stop that,” I laughed playfully.
“So what’s first on our to-do list?” he asked curiously as we stepped out of the elevator and made our way down the hall, studying each door number passively as we walked.
“Shower,” I said simply.
“I like the hooker like,” he smirked.
“You would.”
“Then what?”
I shrugged, “Whatever you want. We could get dinner.”
“I’m not very hungry,” Brian shrugged.
My jaw nearly fell to the floor. I stopped dead in my tracks for the sake of theatrics. I tossed my hands to my chest as I gasped.
“Brian Haner isn’t hungry?” I choked.
He shook his head with a whimsical smirk tugging at his beautiful face.
“Are you hungry?” he asked with a laugh.
“No.”
“This relationship is bullshit,” Brian joked.
We finally found our hotel room and were relatively pleased with the room. It was small and smelled like mold but it looked clean enough and the bed was soft as fuck. The second I tossed my bag onto the floor, I was headed for the shower.
It took a lot of scrubbing but I was eventually confident that I’d gotten all of the product out of my hair and all of the pigment out of my skin. Seemed silly to wash off makeup only to get out and reapply it but it was what it was. The magazine look was a little too dramatic for my taste. And for Massachusetts.
With a towel wrapped around my damp body, I went back into the main room to try and find clothes that I’d been too distracted to bring in with me. Brian was laying in the bed with the tv remote in his hand, staring me down.
“What?” I asked awkwardly.
He was grinning from ear to ear, “Drop the towel, Peterson.”
“Only if you agree to stop calling me that,” I teased, wiggling the towel daringly.
He shook his head, “Never.”
“Then no show for you,” I shrugged before grabbing some clean clothes and turning for the bathroom.
“Hey!” he called to me. “Get back here!”
I looked at him expectantly. He bowed his head in defeat.
“I will stop calling you Peterson,” he said. “For today.”
“I’ll take it,” I cackled and dropped the towel to the floor.
Brian crawled to the edge of the bed and pulled me down beside him. His eyes searched my body hungrily. His hands found their way to my hips.
“Bri—” I tried to speak but was interrupted by his tongue in my mouth.
He slid his hand down my thigh, tickling my clit with one finger. I repositioned my hips to allow him easier access. He moaned softly into my mouth.
With every stroke of his finger, I grew wetter and wetter. My kiss became ravenous, biting at his bottom lip in between breaths. He slid two fingers inside of me, reaching up to the perfect spot.
My back arched instinctively as he massaged me inside. He pulled his fingers out briefly before sliding them back in, increasing his pace as my moans quickened. He broke from my lips to move himself downward. He slipped my nipple between his teeth, teasing them gently. I cried out.
He moved himself further down, planting kissing along my stomach as he departed. He moved his hand aside but continued to fuck me with his long fingers. He kissed my clit, his eyes boring into mine.
“I thought,” I tried between satisfied moans, “we were getting dinner.”
He smirked at me, lingering just above my warmth, “This is dinner.”
He licked at my clit, thrusting his fingers in and out of me vigorously. I bit at my clenched fist to try and muffle my moans. With my free hand, I entangled my fingers into Brian’s hair, pushing his face further into me. He moaned and I nearly lost it.
He kept his eyes fixed on mine as he licked and sucked and moved in and out of my entrance. My back arched and caved with each of his movements; my muscles tightened. My grip on the back of his head strengthened as I reached my climax.
Just as I was about to cum, Brian evacuated his fingers from my body and replaced them with his throbbing cock. I screamed with pleasure, abandoning all hope of muffling my cries.
“Oh, baby,” Brian moaned as he pulled himself further into me.
He grabbed at my breasts with serious force, squeezing and pinching to make me moan. He pushed himself in and out of me, each time hitting a new spot and making me weak.
“Brian,” I moaned loudly.
He pulled my legs up onto his shoulders to allow himself further entrance into me. I gripped at the sheets to stop my body from shaking. It was no use.
He pumped his shaft into me, holding my hips to put me at just the right angle to get him off. I bit at my lip as I watched him watch me get fucked. He moaned ever so lightly as he pushed himself deep inside of me. I was soaking wet.
“Fuck,” he groaned, increasing his pace.
My eyes rolled into the back of my head as I came for the second time. There was no hiding my pleasure—the screams were escaping my lips before I could stifle them. He moaned loudly as he came with me, digging his fingernails into my flesh and biting at his lip.
He slowed himself down, relishing in our chemistry and trying to draw out the sensation. Once he was satisfied entirely, he flopped down next to me on the bed. He was looking quite pleased with himself.
He looked up at me with a playful smirk, “Now I’m hungry.”

Notes