Say Yes (Nostalgic Summer Romance)

“What are you doing to me?” he asked on a breath between bruising kisses.

I dragged my nails down his back in an answer, drawing a hiss from him before he ripped at the strap of my overalls still fastened. They were oversized and baggy on me, so as soon as he unclipped it, they fell, and then I was there in the alley in just my crop t-shirt and red cotton panties to match.

Liam stepped back for just a fraction of a moment to take in the sight, and then he spun me, my hands pressing against the wall to catch myself. I heard him unfasten his jeans behind me, the rip of the condom wrapper, his ragged breaths as he rolled it on, and then his thumbs slipped under the band of my panties and pulled them down to my knees.

There wasn’t enough space to spread my legs fully, the fabric of my panties restraining my legs, but I spread as much as I could and hinged at the waist, giving him access.

Permission granted, he lined himself up, the tip of him pressing into my wet opening, and then with a flex of his hips, he filled me from behind.

I gasped, and before I could moan or scream, his hand wrapped around my mouth. He stifled his own need to groan, biting down on my shoulder, instead, as he pulled out and pressed back in even deeper.

His thrusts were slow and deep, every inch of him ripping me open, and then he picked up his speed, his breaths growing more and more shallow. When he was close, the hand wrapped around my mouth fell to squeeze my breast, and that must have sent him over the edge. He grunted, body shaking and trembling as he released into the condom, and I felt every pulse inside me like a calling for me to find my second release, too.

Just as my orgasm started to catch, he stopped, his body going slack behind me.

“No,” I whimpered.

“Fuck,” he said instantly, his hand snaking around me. “Are you going to come again?”

“Yes,” I breathed, but I didn’t even have to answer. He was already pressing his warm palm against my clit and circling hard, his hips pumping even as he went soft inside me. But he was still hard enough, still deep enough, and the combination of him touching me while he worked inside was just what I needed to catch the spark.

Another boom. Another firework overhead. A distant cheer somewhere in the city as an almost-painful orgasm shook through me. And when I was spent, I was truly spent, weak and dizzy and exhausted like I’d never been before in my life.

Liam withdrew, turning me so he could press a gentle kiss to my lips, his hands disheveling my braids, our breaths slowly evening out in the dark alley.

“See?” he asked. “Our fireworks were better.”

I let out a breathy laugh, shaking my head before he kissed me again.

The next firework crack in the sky sounded like a clock bell to me, loud and striking, reminding me that in just over a month, our program would be over, and we’d go our separate ways.

Now that I’d had him, I wondered how I ever thought I could play this whole thing cool.

I wondered how I was going to keep it casual after a night like tonight.

I wondered how I’d ever let him go when the summer came to an end.

But the next boom shook the thoughts from my head, and after we got dressed again, I let Liam take my hand and walk me back to the bar as we joked and laughed and kissed every chance we got, like nothing in the world could stop us now.

What was worse was that I actually believed it.

The Art of Illusion

“This is stupid,” Liam said, crossing his arms and scowling at the canvas.

I sighed, but couldn’t fight back my smile at the frown he wore, at the pouty lip and hair hanging in his eyes. He was being a petulant child. I found it strangely adorable.

“It’s not stupid. It’s a small step that can take your paintings to the next level.”

“I don’t need to sketch first. I know what I’m painting.”

“Maybe so, but big brushes make big mistakes that are hard to undo. Better to make those mistakes in pencil so they can be erased and redone.”

He inhaled the longest breath before letting it out between loose lips, making a horse sound.

I chuckled. “Come on. It’ll be fun,” I promised, holding the pencil up again.

He eyed it angrily before another huff, but resigned, he finally took it and started his sketch.

“Good boy,” I purred in his ear.

I tried to walk away, but he snatched my wrist, pulling me down until we were face to face.

“You keep talking like that, and the only work that will get done around here will be me working on making you come.”