Chapter 17 Dylan #2
“Do you want to come over and hang out?” she asks.
I glance at her high and tight ponytail. “Depends,” I say.
She rolls her eyes. “Whatever, Dylan.”
“Do you want the company?” I ask.
She nods. “Yeah, I didn’t finish my workout. And I wouldn’t be asking.”
“Right.” I kick a rock. “Your place then?”
“Unless you want to share my attention with your roomies?”
My eyes flick to her, butterflies tickling the tip of my dick. “Your place then.”
She gets into her car and turns on the engine as I pat her trunk and walk to my truck. When I’m inside, I turn on the engine and roll down the window.
Her window is already down, and she’s dancing to the song on the radio. It’s the same station I listen to, so I turn it up and start dancing with her.
She hangs out her door, singing the lyrics. Then she says, “Dylan! I’ll race you to my place. The loser has to choose truth or dare.”
The tickle in my dick turns into a deep throb.
I throw my truck in reverse, but she’s already pulling out of the parking spot, blocking me in. Then she waves her hand out of her window and races off.
Fuck, what game is she playing? I reverse and chase after her. There’s only one way out of this parking lot, so on her ass I go. When we reach the main road, I rev my engine behind her. I can see her smile in the rearview mirror. I try to get into the left lane, but she cuts me off.
At the yellow light, my heart races. She’s not going to stop, which means I can’t. I get as close as possible to her, running the red light and checking my mirrors for any cops.
Then we turn left. I’m still behind her, trying to figure out how badly I want to win, or if I should let her win. Her body language shifted when she invited me over, and my curiosity is at an all-time high.
My ankle aches as I switch between the gas pedal and brakes, but I don’t care. Adrenaline is rushing through me. My pelvis is filled with butterflies, reminding me of our puck buddy agreement. Maybe I’m a little too excited and jumping to conclusions.
I rush down another street, hoping to make it seem like I’m racing to win, even though I’m going to lose on purpose. But it doesn’t help that I get caught behind an old lady driving ten below the speed limit.
When I turn down her road, Cecily’s pulling into her parking stall. By the time I reach her place, she’s out of her car and dancing on the sidewalk.
I turn off my truck, hopping out. My ankle fucking throbs, but I try not to limp. “I got caught behind an old lady.”
“Mhm,” she jokes. “You’re just a loser.” She uses her pointer finger and thumb, dancing and singing until we reach her front door.
“You have no idea what I’m about to torture you with,” she says, eyes gleaming as we enter her place.
“Let me guess. It’s either going to be I do your homework or clean your house. Oh, I know, you want me to wash your car?”
She puts her things down on the kitchen counter and says, “Those are really good ideas.”
She turns on her toes, facing me. “Dilly… truth or dare?”
I observe her. This is a trick question, isn’t it? She’s chipper. Hell, enthusiastic. And I’m not sure why when she was dragging at the gym.
“Truth.”
She smirks. “Perfect. I need the bathroom, so I’ll be right back.”
She turns to her freezer, opening it to grab something. Then she tosses me something frozen. It’s cold as hell. “Elevate your ankle on my couch and put the icepack on it. I’ll be back.”
Again, this feels like a trick. I listen anyway because she saunters down the hallway to her bathroom. I sit on her couch, put my foot on the ottoman, and place the icepack on my ankle.
I sink into her couch because it’s a deep seat and stare at the décor she has above her TV.
When she comes back out, she walks over and looks at my ankle. “Is it bad?”
I shrug. “A few days tops.”
Then she steps one leg over me, and my pulse quickens.
“You chose truth,” she mutters, climbing onto my lap, her knees on either side of my hips. My hands automatically rub the back of her thighs as I stare up at her.
“Ask me anything,” I whisper, trying hard not to touch her ass. I keep my hands on the back of her legs.
She nods, sitting on my lap. The weight makes my dick jump. Having her like this is fucking with me. It feels natural but wrong and right at the same time. I don’t know how to explain it.
“I did some research,” she says. “And because we’re doing this benefits thing, I want your honest opinion.”
I gulp, rubbing her back. “On what?”
She leans in and whispers, “Pull down your pants.”
I’m wearing shorts, but terminology doesn’t matter when she’s demanding that I pull them down. She could call them nut huggers if she wanted to, and I wouldn’t care.
I tug my shorts down to my thighs, flicking the ice pack aside.
I watch her eyes when she sees I’m already hard. I lean back on her couch and wait to find out what happens next. She looks at my dick and then at my face.
“You have to tell me the truth. Promise?”
I cross my heart. “Promise.”
She drops to her knees. “If it doesn’t feel good, you have to tell me.”
Shit. I’m sure whatever she’s going to do is going to feel good, no matter what. I nod, agreeing to her terms.
She grabs my dick, pumping it a few times.
“Fuck,” I inhale.
“Feel good already?” she asks.
I nod, wondering if she’s going to let me fuck her later.
She licks her lips, slowly pressing the head of my dick into her mouth.
“That feels fucking good, Ce,” I grunt, pressing my hips up. She takes me deeper. “Fuck.”
She pumps her hand and bobs her head, using her tongue to swirl around my head.
“Oh, fuck, Ce. That feels so fucking good.”
She flips her hair so that she can look at me. Watching her watch me does something to me, so I lean forward to grab her.
But she pulls back and shakes her head. “Lay back like the best friend that you are and enjoy.”
I fall back and groan, “Cecily.”
She licks my length. “Yes, Dylan.”
My dick flexes under her palm at the sound of my name coming out of her mouth. “You’re doing great.” I use her hand and say, “Don’t be afraid to squeeze harder.”
She listens, and I melt into the cushions. She works her mouth faster on me, and I start seeing stars. She starts flicking her tongue on the crevasse of my head, and I accidentally go deeper into her mouth.
“Fuck,” I moan. I grab her hair and say, “You’re doing so fucking good.”
She plops off and says, “Is there anything else I can do?”
I shake my head. “This is fucking perfect.”
She takes me deeper this time, and I groan into the silence. “Shit, Ce.”
She works me harder, swirling her tongue around my head. Her mouth is so warm and wet, fucking perfect.
“Ce,” I mutter, trying to stop her.
She pulls back, and I lean forward, glancing at her glistening lips. “Truth or dare.”
She smirks, shaking her head. “I’m kind of in the middle of something.”
“Pick one right now,” I demand.
Her playful demeanor might retaliate right now. I can tell by the look on her face. “I’m not sleeping with you,” she says, holding in her smile.
I must look dazed because she won’t stop hiding her smile.
“Is that a challenge?” I ask. “Because I bet if I put my hands between your legs right now, you’re probably soaking wet.”
She licks her lips, and my eyes track the movement. She says, “I want to know if I’m giving you a ten out of ten blowjob.”
I nod, laughing with no humor. “You’re giving me the best blowjob of my life.”
She pushes me back onto the couch and demands, “Then enjoy it.”
She wastes no time, using those beautiful lips to tighten around my cock. Her tongue does fucking magic at the right spot. I can’t fucking take it anymore, so I grab her body in one swift move and plant her ass on the couch next to me.
“You’re doing so fucking good, Ce. I want to touch you.”
She shakes her head, pumping my dick with her hand. “No, Dylan. No touching.”
I close the gap between us, my lips hovering above hers as I stare into her pretty eyes. “I dare you.”
“I didn’t choose dare,” she whispers.
“Fine,” I say, rubbing my lips against hers. “Then tell me why you don’t want me to bend you over and––”
“I didn’t pick truth either,” she cuts me off.
I try to kiss her, but she pulls back just enough for it to be a whisper. Just a tease like she’s enjoying toying with me.
“Ce,” I chuckle.
“Dylan,” she teases.
I pull back just enough to watch her face. “Do you want me to come in your mouth?” I ask, trailing my thumb across her bottom lip.
She nods as her inhale sharpens.
“Can I make you orgasm?” I ask, reaching for her. My fingers press tightly around her thighs as I work towards her center. “It’s only fair.”
She leans in and says, “I’m trying to practice sucking dick, so come in my mouth and tell me how I do.”
Damn, it’s going to be like that?
She pushes my chest, making me fall back onto the couch. She drops to the ground and starts working her mouth around me again. This time, there’s a fire in her eyes. She’s watching me as I hold her hair back.
“Just like that, Ce. Fuck, you’re doing so… good,” I groan.
Somehow, she takes me deeper, working her hand in a twirling motion. My head falls back.
“Don’t fucking stop, Ce. I’m going to come.”
She presses harder and faster, making a sound at the back of her throat that tickles my dick. And that sends me over the fucking edge.
I grab her face as I look into her eyes and let loose. Come spits out into her mouth, and she’s taking it well. It’s a beautiful fucking sight to see––my best friend swallowing my come and smiling at me like she’s just as satisfied as I am.
She stands with a gentle look on her face. Is she proud? She tries to walk away, but I quickly stand, pull my shorts up, and grab her hand.
“Moo,” I say, tugging her back to me.
“Dylan. I said no.”
I push a strand of hair out of her face and say, “I just wanted to remind you of the terms.”
“What?” she asks.
I whisper, “Tonight, when you’re thinking about my dick in your mouth, you can’t masturbate. The rules are you can’t touch yourself.”
She shrugs. “That’s fine. I have perfect self-control.”
She walks down her hallway and back into her bathroom, glancing over her shoulder at me before disappearing.
I exhale, looking for the icepack I dropped. I pick it up and sink back onto the couch, placing it on my elevated ankle. I can’t believe she won’t let me touch her.
When she walks back out, I offer, “I can take care of you.”
She’s in the kitchen now. “There isn’t a need.”
I stare at nothing, trying to put these pieces together, when she walks around the corner with green juice.
I grab the cup and take a sip.
“I know we’re using each other, but why are you using me?” I ask.
“For experience,” she says confidently.
“Yeah, but for what?” I ask, looking over the couch.
She scrunches her face. “Are you really doing this right now?”
I shrug. “We’re friends, Ce. You can tell me anything.”
She sits next to me and pulls her knees up to her chest. She takes a long sip of her juice and says, “Alix wants my business contacts. She’s trying to break into this influencing thing, and I finally grew the balls to ask her about her brother.”
The dots start connecting as she sips her juice. “Her brother?”
She nods. “She has a very hot older brother. Sometimes he replies to my stories. It’s stupid, I know. I want to practice with you in case I ever get a chance with him.”
I chug the rest of my drink and nod.
“Okay, so what’s your game plan?” I ask, holding the empty cup in my hands.
She shrugs. “I don’t know. Like I said, he watches my Stories and likes all my photos. That means something, right?”
I shrug. “Sure. Yeah.”
“Yeah, so I was going to shoot my shot. I need Alix on board. They’re close, so he’ll listen to her. I don’t need her saying anything bad about me.”
“Open your phone right now,” I say, so she pulls it out and opens Instagram.
I tap her Story and swipe up to see everyone who viewed her recent posts.
“Is he on there?” I ask, watching her eyes filter through the hundreds and hundreds of names.
She stops. “Yeah, that’s him.”
“Send him a message.”
She closes her phone. “Dylan, I’m not doing that. I want him to approach me. Ask me out. I don’t want to seem desperate.”
I think practicing sex with your best friend seems pretty desperate. But I don’t say that. Instead, I say, “When’s the last time you went to Alix’s house?”
She shrugs. “She’s rich, so the house is massive. If I went there, there’s no promise of bumping into him.”
I snap my fingers. “What if we invited them to Rocky’s house party this weekend?”
“You guys seriously do that every weekend?”
I nod. “Yeah. We’re hockey brothers.”
She sighs. “Before I can do that, I need to get Alix the contacts sheet and maybe get more practice. So maybe not this weekend, but the following weekend? Will there be a party then?”
“Ce, there’s always a party. And I agree about practicing. You should know what you like.”
“Shit. I should, shouldn’t I?” she says, staring off into the distance.
I reach and gently graze her knee. “It’s what I’m here for.