-To be loved is to be changed-
Harry Edward Styles, 20 year old college student and golden boy of the University of Southern California Tojan's football team has been secretly pining over Dorothea (Thea) since he first saw her sitting in his middle...
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I shift Thea's SUV into park when we finally pull into the complex of my apartment after driving all day. I should be worn out, tired from focusing on the road, instead my body is buzzing. Because I have plans.
Great ones that involve my face between my girlfriend's thighs.
The ideas began to swirl around in my head when we decided to make the long drive home instead of flying. Driving meant we'd have to arrive back the night before any of my roommates, who all flew home to visit their families. Which also meant we'd have the apartment to ourselves for the entire night, something that hadn't happened since our first date.
Not that I minded. I loved our friends and having them around, but that also didn't mean I wasn't going to take advantage of an opportunity when it presented itself to me.
For the few days we were in Oregon, Thea and I spent most of the time separated and spending time with our families. But now that I had her all alone, I needed to release all the pent-up tension.
After the teasing stunt she pulled the night of Thanksgiving, it's all I've been able to think about. I've been slowly planting seeds for the entirety of the ten-hour drive.
A rough squeeze of her thick upper thigh here, a lingering touch along her hipbone there. Letting my fingers curl further into the space between her legs than is normal. "Accidental" brushes of my pinky along the seam of her leggings.
In the last hour, I've become more deliberate. I watched her pulse tick and her body grow restless. But I never took it any further than the teasing gestures leaving us both keyed up and ready to expel some of this sexual energy.
Have I ever mentioned I live for the long game?
I rake my hands through my slightly overgrown hair and push a breath from my lungs. "Home sweet home."
Thea startles at the sound of my voice but quickly composes herself. "Home sweet home," she repeats.
Our eyes meet for a beat across the center console. A silent conversation passes between the two of us as the heat rises from our noiseless stare-off. It's like a game of chicken and neither one of us wants to be the first to break.
I catch the fidgeting of her hands in the bottom of my vision and a sick satisfaction rises in me at having her so easily worked up. It causes a wolfish grin to form without permission.
"Stop smiling at me like that," Thea croaks.
"I'm not smiling at you like anything, Rosy." I throw the nickname out because her entire face has gone pink at this point. And god damn if I don't love making her blush.
"Yes, you are. It's all…sexed up and like salacious or something!"
I nearly snort. "Sexed up? Baby, you haven't seen sexed up or salacious yet. Trust me."
