Around midnight, the party came to an end. Ed left for Truckee before the roads got too slick, and then Theo's friends slowly trickled out the door, laughing and passing jokes all the way to the parking lot. Charlie was the last to leave the apartment after Adora, who offered to drop the drunken student off at home. But before Theo's sister stepped foot on the doormat, she gave her brother one last hug and whispered, "Use protection," in his ear.

He shoved her off, and her snickers followed her out the door.

Theo and I stared at each other like two windup toys losing steam, readjusting to the silence, releasing our grip on a charade.

"Your friends were cool," I said after a few seconds.

He gave a soft huff of laughter and collapsed on the couch. "They're alright."

"They really care about you. It's sweet." From the moment I'd entered Theo's apartment, it was obvious they considered each other family. No one walked on eggshells in this group. There were no filters, no euphemisms, and yet they recognized and respected each other's boundaries.

"Support systems like that make everything else feel irrelevant," he admitted. "I could live anywhere on earth if they followed."

The pang in my chest struck again. What Theo described...it was exactly how I felt about Baker and Jay, but they both planned to leave me in a few months. By the end of summer, I was going to be stuck here in Reno without my support system, my backbone, my incentive to stay.

"They liked you," he said, pulling me out of my head. "For the record."

I squinted at him, failing to detect any dishonesty. "Really? 'Cus I'm pretty sure I gave off a weird and friendless vibe."

Adora in particular seemed unsure about my role in Theo's world, and I could tell she was protective of him. Not in a jealous, possessive kind of way, but more of a sisterly, don't-mess-with-my-bitch way.

"Well, you didn't. They thought you were funny. And authentic." He snorted at the skeptical look on my face. "Seriously. I'm gonna have a hell of a time explaining why we're not dating. And don't even get me started on my dad. I don't know what he said to you in the kitchen, but I just hope he didn't propose to you on my behalf."

I laughed at that. "He came pretty close."

He threw his head back against the couch. "It's like none of them understand what it feels like to break up with someone you..." he trailed off, scrunching his nose. "It's only been two months. No one gets it."

I kicked off my shoes and slowly made my way over to the couch. "I may not relate to the pain you're going through, but your choice to swear off dating makes perfect sense to me." If I were him, I'd probably never date again. Learning to trust someone after a betrayal that large was beyond difficult. "I still think you should've played around with your Grindr account before you made Van delete it, though."

He let out a heavy breath, briefly glancing at my face, my eyes. "...You're okay with that, right?"

"Grindr?"

"Me finding guys attractive," he clarified. "Being bi."

I stopped directly in front of him. Then I bent at my hips and kissed him on the lips. "Why would that change anything?"

His lips lingered on mine for a few seconds before he withdrew. "It's just...a lot of girls think it's a turnoff. The ones who don't believe it's a phase think it makes a guy effeminate. Or they think we're sexually promiscuous and more likely to cheat on them with a man."

Pain lurked in the shadows of his face, and I had a feeling he'd endured one too many unsolicited opinions about his sexuality. "Well...I for one think it's an attractive quality, and I've never once felt like you weren't manly enough—whatever that means. Plus, after what you've been through, the last thing I'm worried about is you breaking our exclusivity clause." I swept his dark locks away from his brow. "If you do want to sleep with other people, just tell me."

He frowned, and his hands found my waist again, pulling me close, close, closer until I stood between his thighs. "I don't want anyone else."

My heart kicked against my ribcage, detecting the sensual shift in tone. "No?"

"Hell no. I'm obsessed with you, Moe." His palms slipped to my lower back, and then they traveled across my skirt and further south. "And your ass."

I laughed and pushed the pervert into the couch cushions. He smiled at me, those hazel eyes swimming with roguery, and nerves fluttered in my stomach like moths swarming a porch light. Holding his gaze, I began unbuttoning my blouse, watching his Adam's apple bob upon his dry, anticipative swallow.

"What else do you like?" I prompted.

His eyes followed my hands, drinking in the black lingerie and the way my curves stretched the lace in all the right places. When I shed my shirt completely, he zeroed in on my breasts. "Those."

"Yeah?"

He hummed, bringing his hands around to my navel, and then up, up, up, over the mostly sheer garment to my chest. He pinched my stiff, sensitive nipples through the floral print, grinning at the sharp hiss he elicited from my mouth. "And especially these."

I leaned in for a kiss, and he met me halfway—adorably overeager, as always.

As we devoured each other, he tugged my skirt down over my legs and stripped me down to my petite leotard. He tore away from my tenacious mouth to admire my outfit, and the way he dragged his tongue across his back molars had my pelvic floor aching for release.

"That should be illegal," he said, his voice low in his throat, like his ability to speak—along with all his blood and rational thought—had plummeted to his dick. "You had this on all night?"

I nodded, carding my hands through his thick hair. "I changed after work. I was hoping to surprise you...not the other way around."

He groaned, taking the time to appreciate my body in this new format, processing the fact that I'd had sex on my mind all afternoon, that I'd gone out of my way to impress him. To please him.

His palms wandered across my torso like an archeologist uncovering a new historical site, tracing my outline, squeezing my flesh, studying my pretty packaging—and the best way to free me from it. Then his hands fell to the back of my thighs, and he shot me a sly grin. "Can I take a picture?"

That was the last thing I expected to tumble from his mouth, and for a moment, all I could do was gape at him. "You...want a picture of me...in this?"

His confidence faltered. "To look at when you're not...available." He looked embarrassed, but I could tell he was enraptured; the request was genuine. "If you're comfortable with that."

My mind was still stuck on his question. Did he really just admit he wanted to look at the photos later? So he could...get off to them? To me?

Jesus.

Why was the prospect of him choosing me over the millions of attractive women on the Internet so hot? And what had he done to my psyche to make me feel flattered by that?

His inquisition made me blush, but I trusted him enough to grant him a few photos. I stepped away from the couch and threw my hair out of my face. "Okay, have at it. Just avoid my bad angles, please."

"You have none," he insisted, removing his phone from his back pocket. He beamed at me as I twirled around a few times, doing my best to replicate the thirst traps I'd seen on Instagram—and laughing at myself for my poor execution. Upon completing his portfolio, he tossed the device aside without another thought. "God. You're...out of this world."

He squeezed my ass again, reining me in and urging me forward. Thrilled to experience his lust in a new font, I climbed onto his lap and straddled his waist, immediately sensing his erection beneath me.

You got him there with nothing but a photoshoot, Moe. Well done.

I yanked his shirt off, and we kissed again, grazing tongues, biting lips, sighing into flushed skin and gossamer lace. He adjusted his posture on the couch, shifting my weight forward onto his dick, and his mouth found my nipple through the fabric. I watched him suck on it for a moment, his eyes closed, his hand gripping tight to my breast, and it liberated a train of dirty thoughts.

Sizzling, throbbing desire pooled between my legs, and I ground into him.

"You're so hot," he panted, switching sides. "Fuck."

I squeezed his shoulders. "Theo."

"I can't believe you exist."

I would have cringed at those words in any other context, but witnessing him marvel over my body, my presence, just fueled the fire between my legs.

Dilated pupils met mine, hungry for more, eager to ravish me, and he reached for my shoulder to strip me naked. But I leaned away just before he made contact, shaking my head.

Not yet.

I crawled off his lap, turning his elated grin on its side, and when he saw me drop to the carpet on my knees, his confused frown opened in astonishment.

He stared at me, his chest heaving with the burst of adrenaline I'd unleashed. "What do you think you're doing?"

"It's your birthday, isn't it?" I reached for his fly, and he sucked in a breath.

"Yeah. But you don't have to do that."

"I want to." I unbuttoned his jeans, then pulled the zipper down, careful to avoid the swell of his boner. But I hesitated as I reached for the hem of his underwear, suddenly nervous under his rapt attention. "To be honest, I don't really know what I'm doing, so if I do something wrong, let me know."

"I don't think that's possible."

Horror stories from my freshman roommates said otherwise. "Just tell me."

The horny center of his brain must have told him to shut up already, because he bit his lip and nodded.

I pulled him free of his boxer shorts and held him upright in my dominant hand, his skin warm to the touch. I had to admit, I was intimidated by the two and a half fists of length in my grip, the veins pulsing against my palm, the firmness it boasted. I'd never looked at his dick this closely—or with the intention of swallowing it whole—and I'd be lying if I said it wasn't alien to me, but...it also wasn't repulsive.

I took him in my mouth before I weirded myself out, careful to avoid grazing him with my teeth, and he immediately tipped his head back to release a strangled exhale.

Going by what I'd seen and read online, I did my best to lick, plunge, twist, and suck, using my hand to stroke him at the same time. It was surprisingly enjoyable, feeling his cock twitch against the roof of my mouth, watching him shudder at my ministrations, seeing him arch his back when I gave extra attention to the tip.

I never imagined I'd feel so powerful on my knees.

He let me take the lead, and as he grew harder and fuller against my tongue, I was enthralled by the uninhibited, arousing sounds he made. His moans were quiet but erotic—a burst of ecstasy with a breathy decrescendo—and I knew without touching the gusset of my lingerie that I was already drenched.

I made my own noises too, knowing it probably eased his anxieties as well, and his encouraging nods made me smile. Who knew how fun this would be? Learning him inside and out? Discovering what made him whimper?

A few minutes in, my hair fell into my face, distracting me from my work, but Theo quickly gathered the curls in his hand and held them in place at the top of my head, watching me with hooded eyes. I held his gaze as I pushed him in—as far as I could without gagging—and he threw his head back and swore like I'd never heard him swear before.

"You're...really good at that," he managed. "Your tongue is...fuck."

I hummed at the praise. It wasn't often I rendered him speechless.

We continued like that for a while, and I glanced up every so often to see him gasp for air and clench his abs. Then his breaths turned ragged, and I knew I was getting somewhere.

"Fuck, just like that, Moe," he panted, tightening his grip on my hair, but never once forcing me to perform at a specific pace or depth. The respect made it all the more pleasurable. "I'm close."

I kept at it, bobbing as fast as I could, applying as much pressure as he needed, and holy hell, my jaw was getting tired, but I wouldn't fail him now. Breathing through my nose, I fucked him with my mouth, my tongue, my throat. Then my left hand dropped to clutch his testicles, and his whole body spasmed at the supplementary stimulation. 

Cursing, he yanked my head up as he came, soaking my neck and cleavage in hot liquid, moaning as dopamine and oxytocin spilled into his circulatory system. And then he finally opened his eyes to look at me, and his pupils shuddered with lust.

"Woah..." he got out, releasing my hair. "That...was something else."

Grinning, I wiped my mouth with the back of my hand, memorizing the way he looked in this moment—like he'd just won a race.

He slipped himself back in his boxers and grabbed his discarded shirt to wipe up his mess, and as soon as he was finished cleaning my chest, I crawled on top of him again, slinging my wrists over his shoulders.

He rewarded me with a long, grateful kiss, completely unbothered by the taste of himself on my lips. 

"Did I do okay?" I murmured.

"If that's your first time giving a blowjob, I'm scared of what you're capable of," he whispered, hot to the touch. "I think you could weaponize that skill. I'm actually a little concerned for mankind."

I smirked against his neck. "Well...you don't have to worry about the welfare of the human race. Not tonight, anyway." I kissed the sensitive space right below his earlobe, and he shivered, just as I'd known he would. "For the next ten hours, I'm all yours."

He grunted, and before I could make sense of the arm looped firmly around my waist, he flipped us over. My back hit the cushions, and his grin widened as he lowered himself on top of me. "What happens at the eleventh hour?" he asked, dragging his hand down the center of my torso. "Are you no longer mine?"

"...Only if you can't convince me to stay," I teased.

He kissed my collarbone. "Oh? And how might I do that?"

"I can't give you all the answers, Theo." My fingers danced across his shoulder blades.  "Use your imagination. Get creative."

His palm found the wet spot between my legs, and a sinful resolve filled his eyes. "Careful what you wish for."