Chapter 27 - Spencer
CHAPTER TWENTY-SEVEN
SPENCER
Tate and I have been exclusive for two weeks, and every single day, I’ve had to fight the urge to ask him to be my boyfriend.
I know this first step in closing things off is so monumental that I’m afraid to scare him away with an official title.
A title he’s dreaded for years. I want nothing but excitement and happiness when it finally happens.
Not to mention, things have been going great, and I’m afraid to ruin that.
We meet at the pier for lunch three times a week, have dinner five times, and fuck six times. We’re practically married. My stomach flutters at the word, but I don’t have long to dwell on it.
“Hey, babe!” Tate shouts behind me, and I set the wrapped turkey club down and stand to greet him. He’s wearing a silky, short-sleeved shirt that’s halfway unbuttoned and tucked into a pair of dress pants.
“You look sexy today,” I growl, and Tate just laughs, fluffing his curls and doing a full spin to make sure I see how good his ass looks in fitted trousers.
After a quick peck and a subtle ass grab that only the dolphins can see, we take a seat facing the beautiful ocean.
Tate sighs loudly. “Ahh. It’s been a long-ass morning. I’m starving. Thanks for picking up food.”
“Of course.” I hand him the sandwich and a bag of chips. “If there’s ever a time you can’t get away from the office for some reason, please just text me. I’ll have something dropped off,” I tell him.
Sometimes he gets carried away on a project and doesn’t even stop to order food. The thought of Tate being hungry and not eating doesn’t sit well with me.
“You’re always so thoughtful,” he murmurs around a huge bite, attempting to blink a rogue curl out of his eye.
I brush it back, letting my fingers trace the curve of his face. “I always look out for the people I . . . care about.” I’m barely able to stop myself from dropping the fucking L bomb on our lunch hour.
“I know you do,” he agrees. “You’re the kindest, most thoughtful human I’ve ever met.”
Yet another moment passes where I’m fighting against the desire to make him mine. Officially. I lean forward and give him another kiss instead. “You bring out the best in me,” I tell him truthfully.
“And you bring out the freak in me,” Tate says with a pleased giggle.
“You little tease, we still have to make it through half a workday,” I chuckle.
“Think of it like foreplay,” he laughs, standing up and gathering his trash.
My stomach revolts, nearly rejecting the food I just ate. “God, no. I work with my dad, Tate!”
He throws his head back, laughing obnoxiously and making the old fisherman on the other side of the pier scowl at us.
“The last thing I need is to have a semi at work,” I grumble under my breath, taking the trash from his hands.
“You’re telling me?!” Tate teases. “You couldn’t hide that thing at ten percent, let alone fifty.”
“Damn straight.” I smirk, throwing our trash away at the end of the pier and walking as slowly as possible to the parking lot.
I love our lunches together, but I hate saying goodbye and going back to work after.
“I have a surprise for you tonight,” Tate murmurs seductively, giving me one last kiss before he climbs into his car and starts the engine.
I tip my head back, groaning into the cloudy sky as my cock starts to stretch against my slacks.
Five o’clock can’t get here fast enough.
Propped up against the headboard with fluffy pillows at my back, my dick stands at attention as I wait for Tate to finish up in the bathroom. It was a long afternoon filled with too many numbers and too many tasks, so I really earned this surprise.
“Knock. Knock. Can I come in?” a soft, sultry voice asks from the hallway.
“Yes. Come in,” I reply, playing along with whatever game this is.
Tate steps into view, cocking his hip and leaning against the doorframe teasingly.
He’s wearing a tiny plaid skirt and a see-through white crop top that’s tied between his pecs.
When he does a little twirl, his skirt flies up, revealing the bottom half of his ass cheeks and making my dick even harder.
I take a deep breath, unsure if I’m dreaming or awake.
This fantasy is far too sexy for real life.
“Professor, I’ve been a bad boy,” Tate says with a pout, walking into the room and lifting a leg to rest his foot on the edge of the bed. He bends his knee, flashing his semi-hard cock and smooth balls from under the skirt.
Fuck. He’s sexy.
Tate pulls a wooden ruler out of nowhere and smacks it against his palm before repeating himself. “I’ve been a bad, bad boy.”
Getting pulled into the roleplay, I snap into character and climb out of bed, taking the ruler from his grasp.
“You were a little tease today, weren’t you? Purposefully getting me hard just to punish me all day? Hmm? Well, now it’s your turn for a punishment. Bend over.”
I have no idea what’s gotten into me, but I’m rolling with it.
“How do you want me?” he asks, turning around and bending over to touch his toes.
Holy shit.
His hole is shiny and pink and stretched full by a large plug. Even the base seems wide.
He is fully prepped and ready for me.
I’m in heaven.
“So that’s what you were doing in the bathroom?” I murmur, rubbing my fingers down his crease and circling the plug.
“Mmm,” he moans. “Yes. I’m ready for you.”
“I would have enjoyed watching you prep yourself.”
“I’m sorry, sir. Should I show you now?” Tate asks, reaching back toward his ass.
“No!” I admonish, swatting his hand away with the ruler. “Do not touch.” I sit at the end of the bed and pat my lap. “Face down, ass up,” I demand.
Tate’s bright blue irises blaze with fire as he crawls on top of me. His hard cock drags against mine, teasing us both.
I lift his skirt, exposing the creamy, smooth skin of his ass.
“You’re beautiful, princess,” I murmur reverently, breaking character and lovingly caressing his cheeks.
Tate peers over his shoulder at me and arches his back. “Spank me.”
I melt back into the scene, giving him little swats with the ruler before I toss it to the side and use my hand. The loud smacking noises of skin on skin, combined with Tate’s cries of pleasure, nearly have me nutting in my pajama pants.
“Professor!” he cries. “Harder. Please!”
“Stand up. Hands on the end of the bed, head down, ass in the air,” I demand, and he does as he’s told. His tiny skirt rides up, exposing the hot pink plug once again. “Spread your legs a little wider,” I request.
He obliges, and then I spank him one, two, three times in a row. I alternate between cheeks, but on the fourth go, my hand lands right in the middle. Right on his sensitive hole that’s currently filled with an extra-large butt plug.
“Ahh! Oh! Oh goodness, professor,” he whines, still in character like some sort of pro. His whole body is trembling with desire.
“I’m going to give you my cock now,” I tell him, grabbing the base of the plug and carefully tugging it out.
“Mmm. Fuck,” he pants.
I drop the plug on a towel that’s folded up on the ground, focusing all my attention on Tate and making him feel good.
“Language. Or I’ll be forced to give you detention,” I scold, giving him another little spank.
“Sorry, professor,” he groans.
I hold my dick steady as I line up behind him and surge forward.
“Ungh!” Tate cries out, hanging his head and panting heavily like he can’t catch his breath.
I smooth down the pleats in his skirt and pull back slowly before shoving forward and starting a comfortable pace.
“Oh, yes! Professor! Fuck me harder!” he cries.
Tate’s ass bounces against me as I thrust into him, and the outfit is getting me hotter.
“On the bed, on all fours,” I command, pulling out and making him whimper.
We crawl onto the bed together, and I quickly thrust into his ass without reservation. He’s on all fours now, slamming back into me while I fuck him wildly.
“Mmm. Fuck! Spencer!” he moans, breaking out of the roleplay. “Oh my fucking God!”
“That’s it. Come for me, princess,” I encourage while continuing to plow into him. My fingertips dig into his soft hips as I slam him against me.
I feel the moment his body lets go, pulsing and squeezing me rhythmically. Tate cries out, shouting as I fall over the edge with him.
We collapse onto the bed with my dick still inside him, pausing for a second to catch our breath.
“I wanna sleep with you inside me,” Tate whispers quietly.
“Can we do that?” I ask curiously, wrapping my arms around his smaller frame and rolling us to our sides.
“It’s extremely . . . intimate, but I’d really like to try it. Would you?” he asks hesitantly.
“Yes. I want to live inside your skin,” I declare without a second thought.
Tate laughs breathily. “That’s kinda creepy.”
I squeeze him to my chest, keeping my hips pressed to his ass. “Never be afraid to ask me anything,” I murmur, nuzzling my face into his curls and breathing in his fresh, vanilla scent. “Chances are the answer is yes, anyway,” I snort.
“Same goes to you, big boy,” he whispers.
“Okay. Then, I’ve got a question for you.”
My words echo in my head. Taunting me.
Never be afraid to ask me anything.
“Will you be my boyfriend?” I blurt out, finally voicing the question that’s been haunting my mind for the past two weeks. I need him to be mine, and I can’t wait a minute longer.
“Yes,” he answers breathlessly. “Please.”