Chapter 28
TWENTY-EIGHT
CANE
Harley sits on the edge of the bed, talking to her mom on the phone to update her on our travels back home.
I look around the room, and I’m not sure if the universe is pissed at me and wants to punish me or what; even though I’m happy to be spending more time with Harland before we get back to NEU and she inevitably pushes me away, having a fucking suite that looks like it was made for sex because of the giant Jacuzzi tub directly beside the bed … is torture.
It’s only six at night. That’s a long-ass time to stay in here and keep my hands to myself.
That’s also many, many hours that I could be worshipping her body.
She ends the call and sets her phone on the nightstand. The second her eyes are on mine, nervous and shy as she may be, the energy in the room shifts, and I know she feels it too.
“How’s your mom doing?” I ask, sinking down onto the couch and sitting back.
“She sounds all right,” she says softly. “I think it’s good that my aunt is staying with her a little longer.” She shifts around, her hands fidgeting. “She told me this morning that she was going to get our insurance all figured out. So, hopefully, you won’t have to pay my way much longer.”
“I don’t mind,” I say instantly so she knows I’m not lying.
“Besides, I’m sure you haven’t been on socials lately, but it turns out, being friends with Harley Meadows can save any man’s reputation.
” I chuckle. “No more hate DMs or comments, so that’s cool.
” I say it like I care, but in reality, it was never about social media or what anyone thought of me. “Follower count is back up too.”
“So, I guess you don’t really need my help anymore, huh, Baseball Boy?” She smiles, though I can see the hesitation and maybe disappointment, even when she does her best to hide it.
“Oh, you’re not getting away from me that easily, Catch,” I drawl. “We’re friends now. Like, real friends.”
“Oh, are we now?” She giggles. “That’s good to know. Here I was, thinking you were just faking it so that my followers liked you.”
“Yeah, well, gotta do it for the ’gram, right?” I shrug.
I know she knows I’m kidding because she giggles. I can’t say that she isn’t just my friend and that I fucking love her. She’d probably rush out of here and hightail it as far away from me as she could get.
Harland Meadows has dedicated her entire life to playing softball. In her eyes, she can’t play the game the way she does if she lets me get too close.
And I fucking hate that she thinks that.
Grabbing the remote from the nightstand, she gives me an adorable, crooked smile.
“What do you think, friend? DoorDash when we get hungry and watch Netflix in the meantime?” She jerks her chin toward the other side of the bed. “I’ll even let you on the bed as long as you’re a good boy.”
I’d let you fucking tie me up and call me a good boy any day …
That’s what I wish I could say because the words good boy rolling off her plump red lips makes my mind dizzy, but I shake it off before pushing off the couch and plopping down on the opposite side of the bed as her.
“It’s a deal, Catch.” I nod. “It’s a deal.”
We relax on the bed, each staying on our respective side as she pulls up the Netflix app on the screen. Even if I don’t get to bury my face between her thighs or feed my cock inside of her pussy, it’ll still be a good night.
She may not feel the same, but I’m actually thanking the airline for not having their shit together today so that we’re stuck here. Because until we get back on campus, we can still live in this bubble.
And it’s one I don’t mind staying in a while longer.
Watching the show that Harley chose to play on the TV, I cringe. “Alex is such a dick, but I get it. He kind of reminds me of Hunt before Hunt got with Isla.”
Harley seems to consider that for a second.
“I grew up with my mom watching it, and even then, it wasn’t a new show.
And I think I’ve rewatched the series, like …
five times now? I can’t help but love Alex.
” She laughs. “I suppose that’s how Isla felt.
Couldn’t stop herself from falling for Hendrix Hunt, even though he’s rough around the edges. ”
The sound of her monitor goes off. When she grabs her phone to look at her sugar level, I study her face. I know she’s been living with diabetes for quite some time now, but I’m still worried every single time her monitor beeps. And when it doesn’t beep, I’m scared it’s malfunctioned.
“I’m low,” she says, completely unfazed.
Setting her phone back down, she scoots off the bed and walks over to the small backpack she took off the plane.
Bringing it over to the bed, she paws through it before she pulls out a lollipop for herself.
I curse silently, praying she doesn’t choose that as her pick-me-up because if I have to watch her lick a lollipop, I might lose my mind.
“Want something?” she asks, completely oblivious to my pain. “I have Skittles and Sour Patch Kids.”
“I’m good,” I say, swallowing when she tosses the bag on the floor and begins to unwrap the pop.
I do my best to look away, but it’s fucking useless, and when she relaxes back and her lips part, I force my eyes elsewhere, thankful as hell when she hits play on the remote.
Let’s be honest though; Grey’s Anatomy can’t distract me from that angel’s tongue.
I shift around, my cock hardening with each second because even though I’m not looking at her, I can see Harley in my mind. My dirty, filthy, awful fucking mind.
Unable to stop myself, I glance over but instantly wish I hadn’t because I can’t stop the groan that comes from my throat. Right away, she looks at me.
“Are you okay?” She frowns, and my eyes float from her lips to her eyes and back.
“Yeah …” I utter, swinging my gaze back to the TV. “You’re just … you’re really distracting me from this shitty show—that’s all.”
“It’s not shitty,” she says instantly, clearly offended. “And why am I distracting you?”
This girl. She’s so fucking innocent that she doesn’t even realize the effects of what she’s doing with the damn lollipop. And thankfully, she hasn’t noticed the bulge in my jeans yet either.
I side-eye her just as her eyebrows pull together, her eyes narrowing questioningly, and then the worst thing happens …
She looks down at my pants, and right away, she yanks the lollipop from her lips and looks stunned.
“Oh … I’m sorry.” She looks at the pop and then at me. “I didn’t—I wasn’t,” she stammers, not knowing what to do.
“It’s fine,” I mumble. “You have nothing to be sorry for.” I grab one of the pillows and set it over my lap, not wanting to make her feel uncomfortable with my fucking boner.
Well, more uncomfortable than she already is …
A few moments pass, and suddenly, she pauses the TV again.
“So, that”—she waves toward the pillow—“is from me … and the lollipop?”
I grind my back teeth, ashamed of myself for being so fucking pathetic.
“Just ignore it, Catch,” I utter. “Eventually, it’ll go down.”
Not wanting it to only get harder, I look away from her again. Only, a minute later, her hand is touching my arm, and when I dare to glance at her, she’s holding the lollipop, no longer sucking on it.
“I didn’t know it would affect you because I haven’t”—her eyes dart down at the bed—“done that with anyone.”
“It’s all good,” I say quickly, barely able to force the words out because she isn’t helping my situation right now at all by reminding me that no man has ever fucked her perfect throat.
“Maybe … you could teach me, Cane?” she whispers shyly. “I know I said, you know, that last night was the only time we could have sex or whatever. But we aren’t back on campus yet. And we don’t really have anything else to do, so—”
I squeeze my eyes shut, swallowing back a groan. My God, she’s trying to kill me.
“You want me to teach you how to suck dick, Harland?” I say sharply, dragging a hand down my face.
“Yes,” she mutters. “If … if you want to.” She’s nervous now, and my eyes fly open again to find her cheeks red. “But you don’t have to. I’m sure—”
Reaching for her, I brush my fingers against her lips. They’re soft and plump, and the thought of my dick sliding between them has my cock damn near lifting the pillow into the air.
My sanity is gone. Self-control? Poof. Ability to play it cool? Disappeared.
The only thing on my mind right now is showing her how I like my dick to be sucked and then her showing me everything she’s learned.
I grab the lollipop from her hand and hold it. “Get on your knees beside the bed,” I say roughly, unable to be gentle anymore. “And take your shirt off. I want to look at your tits while I watch you pretend this lollipop is my dick.”
Slowly, she does what she was told, coming around to my side of the bed as I swing my legs off the edge. I don’t take my jeans off yet, but instead, I reach out, grazing her cheek before I angle her chin upward to look at me.
“Eyes on me, baby,” I growl. “When it’s time for you to suck my dick, I don’t want you to look away from me. Not even when you swallow me down.”
She squirms, her breathing intensifying, though she keeps her eyes on me.
“Good girl,” I muse. “Now open those lips for me and stick your tongue out,” I demand, bringing the candy close to her mouth. “First, you’d want to get a taste of me. So, go on and taste it. Show me how eager you’d be if it was my fat cock in your face.”
Her tongue pokes out, and she laps the lollipop. Not hurrying either. She flicks her tongue against it, her green eyes boring into mine.
“Good fucking girl. By now … you’d be tasting my pre-cum because my cock would be dripping for more,” I tell her, gripping her chin harder with one hand while I smear the lollipop across her lips with the other.
“Now, take it into your mouth and close your lips around it, sucking it like it’s the tip of my cock. ”