Page 92 of Run For Me
I can trust him, even if I didn’t think I could, I know now that I can. I don’t think he’s lying to me.
What more is there to a relationship? Having fun, of course. Things in common.
We definitely have things in common, but enough to last us a lifetime?
Why am I thinking lifetime? Just last night, I was telling myself I didn’t need to worry about having a boyfriend. But then he went and fixed the problem, in more ways than one. I’m assuming he went to talk to that girl, told her to screw off, and then he came here and put my worries about trusting him at ease. He told me I had a bedtime! He’s trying to take care of me.
But why? What is the long game here?
I stare at my phone that’s plugged in to charge. Then I stare up at the ceiling, memories of last night flooding me. The way Jaxon straddled my legs, looming over me as he jerked off. The way his body felt, the way he looked at me… even though I couldn’t see it, I felt it.
It was intense as hell, and I loved every second of it.
I can imagine how his face feels, the same as his body. I bet he has a sexy defined jaw, a hard but handsome face. He’s hot as hell when he moans, but I bet the expression on his face is evenhotter. My gaze kept going to his face, hoping to get a glimpse of his eyes, but it was too dark.
God, I’m aching just thinking about him.
My attention turns back to my phone, and I toss the blankets off me before grabbing it.
I open my camera, and place my hand between my legs, covering myself but making it look like I’m touching myself too. I take a photo and send it to Jaxon, along with the message: If you were here, I wouldn’t have to do this myself.
Maybe the trick here isn’t to outright ask him about a relationship. Maybe the trick is to just do it, say what I think. Push boundaries. See how he reacts. At least this way, it won’t blow up in my face. Though, it still may end in heartbreak. But I think I was destined for that anyway.
Chapter Fifty-Four
Jaxon
Another week down, and this one is better than the last. Sailor isn’t giving me the cold shoulder, and every morning, she’s sent me a hot-as-fuck picture of her pussy. She’s driving me insane, making me insatiable. More than I already was.
She’s staying late at school to study.
She’s told me she’s worried about getting behind, and so I’ve made it my problem to make sure that doesn’t happen.
I make sure she’s in bed every night at ten, wanting photo proof. Sometimes I visit her in the late hours, but I never tell her. Other times I just watch her sleep on the cameras.
Every morning, I send her a text and tell her to eat breakfast. Then I remind her when it’s lunchtime. Once her classes are finished, I ask about her homework, keep a detailed list, and check her progress.
I don’t want to be the reason she falls behind, but I’m too selfish to give her up completely. So, I’ll do what I can to have her while she gets what she wants, too. She’s a good person. The kind that graduates school with pride and goes on to dosomething with her degree. I refuse to be the reason that doesn’t happen. I won’t ruin her life.
I should walk away, but that’s not going to happen.
There are plenty of students and teachers who stay late in the library to catch up on work or lesson plans, but that thins out after midterms and picks up again a week or so before finals. Today, though, seems to be a little extra full, so I don’t have to be as careful when I walk through the library. I walk by the spot I fucked her, and it makes my dick hard just thinking about her pressed against the stacks.
I find her in my spot, all alone, nose buried in a book. Looks like something about art history. I keep my distance, not wanting her to see me. If she sees the same guy lingering around often, she’ll put two and two together.
I stand behind a row of books, peaking through the opening between the top of the books and the next shelf. My dick is aching and I’m seconds away from pulling it out, coming all over these books, and telling her to go look at it. But I’d much rather come in her than on these stupid books.
“Excuse me?”
I look over and find a nerdy kid with big glasses and parted hair.
“May I grab something over here?”
I stare at him, then move aside so he has space to grab a book. By the time he takes it and runs off, Sailor is gone, along with her stuff.
“Fuck,” I hiss, moving along the stacks, looking through to the other side to find her. I catch a flash of her pink hair heading out of the library, and I go after her.
My dick is still hard, and with each step, it rubs against the inside of my jeans, making me need her more.
