Hockey Boyfriend For Pay のすべてのチャプター: チャプター 81 - チャプター 90

“Do you want me?” I ask against his lips. Bram responds with an annoyed sound that makes me laugh, his fresh breath on my mouth, “I want you too. I want to keep being best friends… friends who kiss sometimes. I won’t try to tie you down, I promise. I can be chill too, I think. We can be fuck buddies.” “Wait,” he pulls away a little, but not really. His hand travels from my waist to my ass like he can’t help himself, fingers spreading possessively over the curve, “The other day you said you were intense and wanted a husband and… like… I also realized maybe I could try to…” “Shh,” I kiss him again, brushing my lips over his because I need the contact, “I’ve been going to therapy. I’m a healed woman now. I’m going to be okay, as long as you don’t try to flirt with anyone else in front of me. Or fuck someone else while you’re fucking me. Or text other girls.” “Okay,” he murmurs, lips brushing mine, “So, does this mean we’re… what? literal fuck-buddies?” “Yeah, sure,” I respond, placin

Bram picks me up the second my arms wrap around his shoulders—as if we practiced it—and our mouths fit together perfectly, no awkward teeth or messy timing. His lower lip between mine, his hands squeezing my waist, my thighs tightening around him. God, I like him too much. Too much. “We could’ve fucked here, right now,” he mutters against my mouth, voice thick with want, “But you decided to wear this fucking… chastity contraption.” “It’s a wetsuit, idiot. I bought it at a surfer store,” I murmur as he tries to touch my body but the tight fabric has me all wrapped like a baked potato. There’s no going in. “Well, I don’t give a shit, I hate it. It’s a chastity contraption. I was hoping to see you in a little bikini or something,” he complains, dropping little kisses against my lips as he talks. I eat it up. Every second of it. “Hm, you taste so sweet.” “You too, I love it,” I murmur, and we kiss deeper. Even deeper than last night. I open my mouth and let him fuck me with

{ Abraham }As soon as Anastasia’s alarm starts ringing in my ear, I get up and get out of bed. I’m not taking any chances today. Annie grumbles like a cute kitty as she shuts the alarm off. But I don’t want to stress her out today, so I simply give her a quick kiss on the cheek and then sprint to put on my slippers and get the hell out of her room. The sneaking around is annoying, but I’d do it every night. It definitely beats having to sleep in a room with fucking Logan. I left my suitcase in the lobby with my new friend Luca last night, so I head there, almost immediately awake, since I had a very nice and long sleep last night, next to Annie. And I’m used to waking up early anyway.“Morning,” I murmur as I approach the lobby. There’s an older lady here this morning and her eyes almost pop out when she sees me approaching while wearing nothing but gym shorts. Literally nothing else, except my slippers, “Uhm, I left my suitcase here last night, with Luca. He said he would put it

At night, my room feels colder than it did the previous nights, and I hate how quickly my body seems to have gotten used to sleeping next to Bram. Two nights. That's all it took for his stupid giant body heat to become part of my sleep routine. Now the bed feels empty and wrong.And I sleep like shit. I pack my stuff the second I wake up the next morning, barely speaking to Joy as I stuff everything into my suitcase. After that, I spend the rest of the morning in a strange fog, smiling when someone talks to me but barely hearing anything they say. I basically dissociate through breakfast, through Linda's overly cheerful goodbye speech and through the entire process of everyone loading onto the bus. When we finally pull away from the lodge and start heading back to the city, I feel the kind of relief that people probably feel when they survive natural disasters. By the time I arrive at my apartment, I feel like I just spent three years at war. I drop my stuff right by the door

{ Anastasia }Bram is being a mix of delirious and absolutely ridiculous, but for some reason it doesn't surprise me. Honestly, if anyone is going to turn a simple fever into a full theatrical performance, it’s him. What does surprise me a little is that none of it makes me want to leave. If anything, the more dramatic he gets, the more worried I feel, which is probably not the healthiest dynamic for either of us, but here we are.Once he finally gets off me; I go gather the meds I bought for him along with my pink water bottle and then I come back to the bed to try and force him to sit up. It takes about five solid minutes of bargaining, begging and lightly threatening to dump water on his face before he finally gives in and drags himself upright.Once he's sitting, I push the pills into his mouth and watch him swallow them with the water I give him while silently praying those ladies at the pharmacy were right about the meds they gave me. "Bram," I murmur, sitting beside him in be