Page 22 of Truth or Dare

Presley

“Stop,” I whispered, my voice barely audible.

Evan’s breath, heavy with the sharp tang of alcohol, brushed against my cheek as he nibbled on my ear. He reeked of beer and Fireball, and I wished I had never let him take me here. His hand, clumsy and impatient, slid down, fingers grazing the waistband of my jeans.

“You know you want it,” he slurred, his lips hot against my skin. “You’ve been teasing me for weeks.”

He fumbled with the button on my jeans, his hands shaking from the booze. I shoved his hand away, trying to slip out from under him, but his arm coiled tighter around my waist, trapping me against his weight.

“Evan, please,” I pleaded, my voice breaking.

He buried his face into my shoulder, his breath coming out in ragged bursts. “Dammit, Presley. You can’t keep doing thisto me. We’ve been together for months, and you act like this is some kind of one-night stand.”

“I’m not ready,” I said, my voice barely more than a whisper.

He groaned in frustration, his grip tightening. “Jerk me off, at least. I want your pretty little hands around my dick.”

I stiffened at his words, my stomach churning. “And what do I get?” I huffed, trying to mask the discomfort that was creeping in.

Evan sat up, eyes glazed, his expression incredulous. “Christ, Pres, I wanna do so many things to your hot body, even if it’s short of fucking. Let me make you come with my mouth.”

His tongue darted out, wetting his lips, and I felt my chest tighten. Part of me knew I could keep him if I just gave in, but why? Why did I even want Evan? He was arrogant, entitled, and the very definition of a privileged asshole. But I knew the truth—I wanted everything that came with him.

The status. The security. I didn’t want to spend my senior year as an outcast. But deep down, I knew if I gave in fully, I'd end up just another name in his stupid little notebook.

“I can jerk you off,” I muttered, feeling the weight of the compromise as the words left my mouth.

Evan’s face lit up, the glaze in his eyes clearing as though the promise of sex had sobered him. He quickly unzipped his jeans, standing up to push them down to his ankles. His cock sprang free, the tip already slick with precum.

I wasn’t a stranger to this. I had done it before with Deke, and the internet wasn’t shy about showing you everything there was to know. Evan reached for my hand, guiding it to him, wrapping my fingers around his heated shaft. As I started to stroke, he leaned back on his elbows, his eyes fluttering shut.

“That’s it, baby,” he moaned, his voice low and husky. “Squeeze me.”

I tightened my grip, my small fist working up and down his length. His breathing quickened, hips lifting to meet my rhythm. The slickness of his precum coated my hand, making it easier to move. His groans filled the room, and I felt the tension building in him.

“Damn, Pres,” he grunted, his chest rising and falling faster. “You’re gonna make me come.”

He jerked his shirt up just in time for thick jets of cum to shoot across his stomach and chest, leaving streaks of white across his skin. He collapsed onto the bed, breathless, his chest heaving as he came down from his high.

I got up, my legs feeling unsteady, and made my way to the bathroom. Washing my hands, I found a washcloth in the closet and returned to him. Evan’s eyes were open, watching me as I handed him the cloth. He wiped himself off, the damp fabric dragging across his skin.

“Thanks,” he murmured, sitting up. “Let me get you off now.”

“You don’t have to,” I said softly, though my body betrayed me. My core ached, my panties already damp with need. I couldn’t deny the arousal coursing through me, but I wasn’t sure if I wanted him to touch me.

Evan stood, pulling his boxers and jeans back up, tucking himself in with a practiced ease. He looked at me, concern flickering in his eyes.

“Presley?” His voice was soft now. “Are you okay? I know this is a lot... Do you want me to touch you?”

I bit my lip, torn between what I wanted and what I should do. The act had turned me on, no denying that. I nodded, the heat between my legs becoming unbearable.

Evan came to me, his hands gentle as he led me back to the bed. He kissed me, soft at first, then deeper as I sank onto the mattress. His fingers were on me before I could second-guess it, slipping under my waistband, finding the heat of my arousal. Histouch was skilled, practiced, and I let him make me feel good. I let him take me over the edge.

When it was over, he kissed me again, this time pressing his lips to mine as if sealing the moment. My eyes drifted closed, but my mind wandered—to Hudson. His kiss had been different, electrifying. There was a spark between us, something that had never died, not even after all this time. This—this wasn’t the same. Not with Evan. It never would be.

Mondays—Iloathed them. The weekend seemed like a distant memory, and the gloom outside matched my mood. I waited until the last possible moment before dragging myself out of bed. Through the thin walls, I could hear Neil bouncing around in the next room, full of energy, as usual. It was strange watching my little brother get deeper into the popular crowd.

I didn’t like it.

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