The Games We Play - Chapter 21: Chapter 21

By the time we get back to my apartment, Wes is dry, but I'm still wet.
Absolutely soaking wet.
But not in the same sense.
I'm so wet and dirty that the only logical solution is a shower—and for Wes too, because otherwise, it would just be a waste of hot water.
My back hits the wall as I watch Wes step in through the glass door, his cock swaying between his thighs, all thick and girthy and so damn hard.
The condom is pulled tight over it, catching the light and glinting like a glorious ice sculpture.
I sink my teeth into my bottom lip as he closes the door behind me.
"Tell me what you need, baby." Wes smirks as he passes under the spray to meet me on the other side, the water splattering off his body as he crowds me against the wall.
"You. In me." I exhale shakily. "Fucking me."
His hands come down on the wall on either side of my head, and his mouth is on mine.
It's a kiss that instantly steals my breath.
I'm moaning into his mouth, attempting to move my head, trapped between his lips and the wall.
He pulls back with a cocky grin to admire the horny mess he's made of me.
I whimper and huff, "Making me cum."
"There isn't a single fucking thing I wouldn't do for you, Cam," Wes whispers just an inch above my lips, his eyes flickering up from my mouth to my eyes as he holds my gaze steady for a second too long.
My hands wrap around his waist, and I pull him tight against me. "Oh fuck—Wes."
His mouth comes crashing down onto mine again, one hand sliding under my wet hair to grab the nape of my neck while the other dives between my legs.
I'm instantly taking two fingers, and we both gasp against each other as they enter.
"So fucking wet," Wes mumbles against my lips. "So fucking perfect."
"Sh—shit," I hum, my teeth sinking into my lip as I tilt my head back. Wes' mouth continues down my jaw to my neck, where he sucks a little too hard, and I know it's going to leave a mark.
The little shit is doing it on purpose, and I love it.
Then he goes and adds another finger.
"Ohhhh—Wes!" My eyes bulge open as I adjust to the three digits stretching my pussy so deliciously open.
His other hand slides from my neck and cups my tit as he swoops down, his tongue swiping over the swollen bud before sucking it. He sucks it hard, suckling, licking, and tugging. The entire nipple fits so perfectly in his mouth.
He sure as hell knows how to worship my breasts damn well.
Wes sucks on them while thrusting his fingers deep inside me. He shoves them in, all the way to the knuckles, again and again until I'm a quivering mess up against the wall.
"Nghh!" I grip onto his shoulders, my fingers digging into the golden skin there as I keep myself upright. "Cum—cumming!"
Wes hovers over me as fireworks explode behind my eyes. He watches me cum, completely transfixed on my face as my lips part open and I gasp for the breath he stole from me.
I rush out, "Hah..."
The running water comes back into focus, and my head falls forward onto his shoulder, my arms snaking around his neck and holding onto him tight.
"Just like that, baby," Wes chuckles as he kisses the side of my head while his hand continues to rub at my clit gently. "You're so swollen down here..."
"You're surprised?" I mumble against his skin, and he lets out a small laugh.
His hands are on the backs of my thighs, and he's lifting me up, turning us to a different wall so his back takes the majority of the running water, saving me from its pour.
I wrap my legs around his waist, gasping when I feel his cock knock against me.
"You're so swollen too." I grin as I lift my head to meet his. "But I ain't surprised about that."
His smile almost blinds me. "So fuckin' cute."
Then he's kissing me again and grinding back and forth so his cock slides up and down my wet slit. I moan into his mouth, loud as hell, as he lines the tip up with my wet entrance.
And then he pistons his hips up into me.
My head falls back, my vision leaving me for a split second, and I moan out his name into the steamy bathroom.
I whimper, "Wes."
"Ugh—yes," Wes hisses as he pulls out and shoves himself deep back inside me. "Shit, Cam—so fucking tight for me."
My back arches up into him as I take every single inch of him. He's so big and warm, stretching me more than his three fingers. He's up in my womb, in my throat, splitting me in half.
He drives in again and again, balls slapping up against me and my juices gushing louder than the running water with every thrust.
"Ohhhh—your dick feels so fucking good, Wes," I moan out, and it seems to drive something a little wilder inside of him.
He hooks my knees with his elbows, spreading my legs so wide and pinning me to the wall.
My pussy lips spread open and take his thick cock easier.
My knees are basically at my shoulders, feet kicked out in the air as my calves seize from the pleasure rolling through me. The head of his cock rams up against that special little spot inside me, and I cry out.
"There it is, huh?" Wes asks, and I can hear his cocky smirk through his words.
He drives his cock in again, and the huge swollen head hits my G-spot.
"Mmm—fuck yes!"
My hands wrap around the nape of his neck, and my chin drops to my chest as I struggle to keep myself upright.
"I've got you, baby," Wes mumbles as he focuses on slamming his cock into me over and over again. "So fucking light—so fucking easy to make mine."
I cry, "Ugh—right there. Rightfuckingthere."
He pounds me, holding my legs open, and my gaze flickers up to see his blond hair falling in front of his darkened blue eyes.
Wes looks like an animal in heat, and it only has my pussy gushing harder for him.
"Wes—ooooh fuck Wes!" I scream into the bathroom, every muscle beginning to lock up.
My head falls forward, my mouth pressing into the soft, fleshy part of his shoulder, and I can't stop my teeth from biting down. I feel them sink into the skin as he lets out a groan of both pain and pleasure.
"Shit—yes—Cam," he grits through his teeth. "Mark me, baby. I'm yours—shit—I'm yours to fucking mark."
My teeth in his skin, I'm moaning against him as I completely shatter.
I explode all over him, cumming hard, fast, and unbearably strong.
He's following me over the edge almost moments later, his eyes completely transfixed on watching me squirt all over his lower stomach as he fills up the condom inside of me.
My head rolls back against the shower wall as I stare at him through hooded eyelids. The hair hanging in front of his eyes, the bite mark on his shoulder, the flushed bronzed skin—he is every inch a god.
Legs a little shaky as he sets me back down, "There we go, baby."
I breathe out as he slips out of me, his jaw clenching a little as he goes. He places a sweet little kiss on my forehead before quickly leaving the shower to remove the condom.
My head is still spinning from the orgasms and hot water as I rest my skull back against the wall.
Wes returns to the shower moments later—sans condom but, once again, fucking hard.
He arches a brow. "Your roommate coming home soon?"
"I don't know." I swallow thickly as he nears me. "Why?"
"Well, she freaked you out with my roommate." Wes gives me a cocky little smirk as his hands cup my waist before sliding down my hips and around to my ass.
He gives it a squeeze before he picks me up in his arms again. I slide my forearms behind his neck and wrap my legs around his waist.
"I was just thinkin'..."
One hand is on my lower back, the other getting a good grope of my ass, and he turns off the water.
"Because she surprised you with my roommate..."
He steps out of the shower with both of us, the room and mirror completely smothered in steam, but I couldn't give a single fuck.
"Might as well return the favor." Wes smirks as he walks across my apartment.
"Oh my g—Wes!" I squeal and giggle, gripping onto his broad shoulders a little tighter. Both of us are dripping water everywhere, butt fucking naked, and the blinds are open.
Wes laughs softly as he secures his hold on me and walks us into my bedroom.
☆☆☆☆
The library on a Monday at midday brims with chaos as per usual.
Most students are committing to their Sunday night oath to themselves that they'll actually start focusing this week.
Come Wednesday, the population in Stodden will have halved, Friday it'll be empty, and then we'll be back to Monday.
It's an endless cycle.
Jude is sitting cross-legged on the table while Liam is trying—and failing miserably—to throw gummy worms into the air and catch them in his mouth.
Kiki is typing furiously on her laptop, her long burgundy hair swinging like a curtain as she leans over her notes, looking far too cool for someone drowning in senior-year deadlines.
Me? I'm doing my damn best to stay focused, but Jude's running commentary isn't helping.
"You cannot convince me," Jude declares, waving a pen in the air like a scepter, "that the main character in this case study didn't gaslight her boss. Like, she's a girlboss and a menace. I respect her, but also—therapy."
Kiki sighs. "You both need therapy, babes."
"I do go to therapy, thank you very much," Jude narrows his eyes at her. "And I'm so good at it that I have to be referred to actual clinical doctors. I'm just too powerful for Dr. Riggins to handle."
I think all three of our eyelids can be heard above the noise as we blink at him.
He shrugs it off. "Don't you think I'd make a perfect corporate queen? Oooh, bitch, the tight vests and pencil skirts I'd wear. The slutty little kitten heels."
"You'd get fired on day one for changing the company slogan to something pornographic," I scoff as I push up my thick-framed blue-light glasses.
Jude throws his hands up. "And yet, morale would be sky high!"
Across the table, Kiki flips her burgundy hair over her shoulder, her perfectly manicured nails clicking against her keyboard as she types. "Morale or not, there's no way Jude could even last in the corporate world. He'd read everyone for filth, including the CEO, and get fired."
"Oh no, baby. I'd get fired for sleeping with the CEO because he'd fall in love with my pussy and cannot bear to leave his wife and the triplets," Jude explains like homewrecking is his favorite pastime—actually, it probably is.
Kiki snorts, Liam groans, and I roll my eyes at my friend before returning to my laptop.
Despite Jude's rant about the book study he's being so cruelly forced to do by his professors, it is actually kind of helpful and keeps me on track with my own study.
I'm knee-deep in case studies on open office layouts for my Public Interiors paper. The challenge is finding a balance between collaboration and privacy—how to make a space feel dynamic without overwhelming the people working in it.
If I can't crack this, my concept pitch next week is going to flop like a beached fucking whale.
There's a shift at the table, but I can't be bothered to look up and see Jude thirsting over some damn freshman across the room.
Jude puts a hand on my shoulder. "Holy sweet Jesus, baby fuck."
"Jude, I really don't care what fresh dick is getting you all—" I look up to see not just Jude but all three sets of eyes at the table cast across the room.
My gaze follows theirs, slightly unfocused at first, but then I land on what has them all stunned.
Scarlett and Clay, hand in hand, walking across the library.
Scarlett is already a tall girl, but Clay seems to completely swamp her. She's in dark denim jeans and a tight burgundy halter-neck tank. Her blonde hair is half-up, half-down, secured behind her head with a clip.
She looks hot—and every pair of eyes is on her.
Her big black leather tote hangs on one shoulder, her laptop tucked in her arm, and her other hand wrapped up in Clay's huge palm.
He's clearly fresh from practice, in dark charcoal sports shorts straining against his thighs, and a white Under Armour tee stretched across his chest, shoulders, and tiny, tiny waist.
The way he looks at her, guides her, moves his body in front of her when someone gets too close.
He looks every bit in love with her.
And they look every bit like a damn power couple.
Scarlett's eyes meet mine as they near us, and she offers a small, warm smile.
Okay—that's a good sign.
Scarlett and I haven't talked since Saturday, which is unusual considering I text her about the slightest annoyance in my day so she can talk me back from the ledge of murdering someone.
It's mostly her just mentioning that orange is so not in my color wheel, and suddenly, I don't want to go to jail.
She's been distant, distracted, and the tiny, insecure part of me—the part that still hasn't healed from years of being the butt of every high school joke—is convinced she doesn't care anymore.
Maybe we're not as close as I thought. Maybe Scarlett is already pulling away, keeping secrets, making plans to move out. It wouldn't be the first time I've been blindsided by someone I thought I could trust.
They stop at the end of the table, and I swear the light streaking in from the window opposite shines down on them like a damn spotlight.
"Well, this is me," Scarlett announces as she gestures to the table.
Clay's light blue eyes pass over everyone with a friendly smile and a nod. "Hey y'all."
All three of them sigh blissfully, "Hi, Clay."
They all have their chins on their hands, sparkles in their eyes, and are smiling up at the captain of the Colts.
Meanwhile, I stay quiet, still shocked, still too scared to move. And Clay meets my gaze.
He nods to me. "Cam."
I mimic the nod. "Captain."
Clay gives me an amused, tight-lipped smile.
"You can go now, cowboy," Scarlett turns and mumbles under her breath to him—but we all catch it.
"Alright, darlin'," Clay's friendly smile turns softer, more real, as his big palm slides across her middle back. "See you later, yeah?"
Scar smiles. "Yeah."
Then he's swooping down and placing an adorable little kiss on her cheek. It makes my heart cramp at how cute and soft he's being when he's a literal weapon on the field.
He slides past her, giving us all one last nod. "Y'all have a good day now."
Again, all three of them sigh blissfully, "Bye, Clay."
When he's gone, Scarlett is still standing at the end of the table, and we're all just blinking silently at each other.
Then Jude: "Did y'all just fuck?"
"Oh my god, Jude!" Scarlett groans, rolling her eyes as she pulls the chair out at my side and sinks down into it.
Kiki shakes her head. "There are better things to ask, babe."
"Yeah—like, can he come to my birthday party?" Liam scoffs and folds his arms, leaning back in his chair.
We all turn slowly to face him.
He shrugs with big, innocent eyes. "What? November 15th is coming up real soon—it better be in y'all's calendars."
We all turn away from him.
"No—we didn't just fuck. Clay just finished practice and wanted to drive me to campus," Scarlett shrugs while laying her laptop down on the table and sliding it out of its burgundy leather case. "It's called being in a healthy relationship. Try it sometime."
Jude scoffs and narrows his brown eyes. "Oh, is that the healthy relationship that literally no one knew about and then you just decided to drop a major fucking bomb on everyone?"
The table goes quiet, and she freezes, her mind moving a million miles behind those sexy glasses on her face.
She grits her teeth. "Yes."
I keep my gaze focused on my laptop despite Scarlett boring a hole into the side of my face.
She finishes placing her bag on the spare chair on her other side and turns to me. "Cam, can we talk?"
Here we go. Our friendship is over forever.
"Uh...sure," I say, closing my laptop and standing.
Jude makes an exaggerated tsk sound, clearly miffed at being excluded.
"I'm expecting every dirty detail upon your return, baby!" he calls as Scarlett leads the way out of the library.
She's a woman on a mission while I hurry behind her. I fix my long brown hair, straighten out my white baby tee, and flatten down my jeans.
I want to at least look presentable when she breaks my heart.
Scarlett doesn't say anything as we walk out of the library, and it only makes me spiral more.
The sunlight hits me as we step outside, but it is definitely getting colder. She stops a few paces from the door, arms folded across her chest, and she sighs out as she turns around.
"Okay...talk to me," she says softly as she lifts her eyes to mine.
"What?"
"We haven't seen each other since Saturday" Scarlett rests her weight on one leg. "I know you've been avoiding me, which isn't like you—so tell me what's on your mind."
I point. "I've been avoiding you?"
"Ah—yeah. This whole weekend you've been with Mr. Quarterback." She gestures vaguely in the direction of the football facilities somewhere on campus.
I scoff.
"I haven't spent the whole w—" I pause suddenly when I realize that, shit, I had spent a majority of the weekend with Wes.
"Okay, maybe I spent some time with him..." I grumble as I fold my arms sheepishly. "But it wasn't like I wanted to avoid you! I was just subtly avoiding the inevitable breakup of the best friendship I've ever had, which I think would be the thing to finally turn me to heroin. Then I'll lose my internship, drop out of college, and become some toothless homeless woman outside the stadiums where you go to watch your millionaire husband Clay Jackson play."
Scar looks like she's trying to hide a growing grin, and it pisses me off. "I'm sorry—what?"
"See—this is what happens when you leave me alone!" I cry out and run a hand through my hair. "It feels like you're pulling away. And I—I don't know if it's me, or if I'm imagining it, or what, but...I can't shake the feeling that I'm...not enough for you anymore."
Scarlett steps forward and cups my cheek. "Oh, baby, you really spiraled, didn't you?"
"Yes!"
"C'mere." Scar giggles softly as she pulls me in for a hug.
Damn—she even gives the best hugs.
Amazing goodbye hugs.
"I know I've been distant," Scarlett continues, her voice low and soft, and I rest my cheek against her shoulder. "And yeah, that's on me. But it's not because of you. It's because of me."
I wrap my arms around her waist tighter. She smells so good!
She sighs into my hair. "You've been through so much, and sometimes I feel like dumping my shit on you would just...make things harder for you. You don't need my mess on top of everything else."
I mumble, "I don't mind."
"I know you don't." Scarlett laughs as she pats my back. "But you're only saying that now. This thing with Clay...it's new and a lot, and you've got your internship submissions, and you've got Wes...and it's a lot, Cam. I'm a lot."
I frown with a pout and grumble, "I like a lot. I'm greedy. Give me all of it."
"Says the girl who screams when she's already overwhelmed as it is, and someone asks her for the time," Scarlett mumbles, and I stay silent because she's not wrong. Scarlett is never wrong.
She sighs. "And for what it's worth, you've always been enough for me, Cam. More than enough."
A lump forms in my throat, and I blink quickly, trying to keep it together. "Scar..."
Her lips quirk into a wry smile. "Don't cry on me now. You know I'm not built for that."
I pull back from her shoulder so she can see the tears on my cheeks. "Too late, it's a happening thing."
"Oh, you big crybaby." She laughs, cupping my cheek and wiping away my tears. "You really thought I was going to end our friendship?"
I sniffle. "Obviously."
"You're my person," she says quietly, her voice muffled against my shoulder. "And I don't care what's going on with Clay or anyone else. That's never gonna change, okay?"
I nod before pulling her back into a hug to hide my crying face.
After a moment, Scarlett runs a hand up and down the back of my head. "You know we both need therapy, right?"
I grin, the tension in my chest finally easing. "Couples therapy?"
Scarlett snorts, stepping out of my arms and heading back toward the doors. "Absolutely not."
"What!? Why not!?" I call after her, jogging to keep up as she pulls the door open. "We'd be so good at it!"
She shakes her head, a smile tugging at her lips, as she heads inside Stodden Library. "Cam, no."
"No, really! We'd dominate couples therapy," I exclaim, running in after her. "I'd charm the therapist. You'd intimidate them. It'd be perfect! Scar! C'mon!"