Oreos||BWWM

Chapter 18*

Seconds passed by, he searched her eyes, clouded over by lust. He groaned aloud, unable to bare their close proximity any longer, and smashed his lips on hers.

She smirked into the kiss, silently rejoicing at her small victory. It quickly turned heated, tongue clashing upon tongue. Nothing but their moans and groans filled the room.

Nathaniel picked Mya up, his hands on her bum, carrying her to the long black couch that wrapped around the room. She dragged her hands up and down his chiseled chest, that was still annoyingly covered by the thin, nearly transparent fabric.

"I need this off," she breathed, bringing her hands down to the hem of his white shirt. He helped her, tossing it carelessly to the side, not missing a beat.

He didn't waste another second before reconnecting their lips. His hands roamed all over her body, not leaving any part untouched. Mya writhed beneath him, arching her back upward, skin upon fabric.

Nathaniel didn't like that one bit. At the snap of a finger, Mya's blouse was gone and on the floor. He pulled away, admiring her white lace bra, licking his lips in desire.

Reagan would have worn it better, he thought.

Sighing, he shook the thought out of his head. But, the more he pushed it away, it pushed back. Instead of Mya, he saw Reagan, all he could see was Reagan.

Her gorgeous smile, body, her kind personality, her laugh. God, how he loved her laugh, he treasured it more than anything. To know he was the cause of it, and no one else.

"Nathaniel," Mya whispered, pulling him out of his trance. Her hand went behind his neck, pulling him forward in a forceful kiss.

There was no spark, not like Reagan's kisses. Everything was passionate, meaningful, beautiful and filled with love, not lust like this one.

He blamed it on the alcohol.

All of it. Although, he only had a few glasses, it seemed like the only logical explanation. This wasn't him, this isn't him. Nathaniel would never cheat on Reagan.

He definitely wouldn't be pulling another woman's shorts down, feeding off of her moaning his name. Nathaniel wouldn't unbuckle his belt and take off his trousers in the presence of another woman.

She was beautiful, but Reagan was a Goddess.

Pulling out his wallet, he searched, hoping to find a condom, but he didn't. He pulled his locks in frustration at his misfortune, deciding to throw all caution to the wind.

"Fuck it," he grumbled lowly, leaning down, marking all over her neck, leaving small red bruises that would surely become more prominent over time. Nathaniel felt her hand reach down, palming him through his Calvin Klein briefs.

He groaned in her neck, feeling her squeeze him teasingly. "You like that," she whispered in his ear, licked the outer shell, watching him shiver in response.

"Quit teasing," he moaned out, unable to hold it in any longer. She complied, her hand no longer palming him, but resting at the band of his briefs.

Mya was soaking at this point, and he was painfully erect, in need of attention. Her hand sank down, cupping him, stroking him slowly.

She was good, but Reagan was better.

Meanwhile, Andrew danced with his buddies, cell phone in hand, taking a video of their foolishness. He laughed as his friend, Blair, attempted a split, crying out at the immense pain.

"Help me," he boomed at his so called best friends, his hands extended out, waiting for them to help pull him up. Andrew and one of the three others, Gage, grabbed his hand, lifting him up.