Colin

Nine weeks ago

I like to believe I'm a decent guy, but right now I'm questioning just how accurate that is. The reason for this is the five-foot-five-inch chestnut-haired beauty who's fast asleep on the bed I'm standing next to. For the record, my intentions coming in here were above board. It's been three hours since I saw Leni in the kitchen and it's well past time for dinner. I texted and called her cell multiple times and then spent a solid minute knocking. When I got no response to any of that, I started to panic. Granted she sleeps at every available opportunity but usually she's easier to wake up. I'm sure the fact that my nerves are still stretched taut after losing Nanny and Pop on the same day played into my panic as well. A series of worst-case scenarios had been playing on a loop in my head as I'd opened the door with the intention of making sure everything was okay. It was supposed to be quick—just a check-in. And then I saw her, and something other than my brain took over.

The bright throw she's got over her may have started out covering her entirely, but right now the top of it is resting just above her belly button, which means she's completely exposed on top. I've been standing here for a good two minutes now fucking transfixed by her unbelievably sexy tits—firm and perky with dusty rose colored nipples that I’m dying to taste. Then there’s her beautiful as fuck face. Poets could write volumes about her lush lips, but I'm no scribe, so all I can say is that Angelina Jolie needs to be jealous of Leni's mouth. I've spent the last few days jerking to it multiple times a day because of this girl. Hell, I've spent the two years since the family vacation we took the summer after her freshman year of college getting off thinking about her. I come the hardest when I imagine her lips stretched around my cock as I come into that hot little mouth. Jesus fuck I want that.

To get myself under control, I look away from her, then swallow back a groan when my gaze drops to the floor, and I see black silk stockings and a sexy black bra there. I'm so hard right now I can barely fucking think straight, and my dick is all but chanting her name. If I weren't wearing fitted boxer briefs under my black sweatpants, my cock would be tenting out like Pinocchio’s nose. The impulse to wake this sleeping beauty up with a kiss is almost impossibly strong.

Closing my eyes, I fist my hands and breathe deeply, nearly losing what little resistance I have as her delicate apricot and honey scent permeates my senses—the same smell that almost had me breaking down and fucking her on the kitchen floor just a few hours ago. I breathe through my mouth and start counting backward from one hundred. By the time I get to eighty-two, I'm in a better place. Cracking my eyes open just enough to be able to see, I quickly grab the blanket and position it over her so she's covered and then tuck it around her. Stepping back, I clear my throat and watch her for a reaction. Nothing. I shake my head in wonder at just how out she is and then reach out to nudge on her shoulder.

“Time to wake up, Little Bird.”

The little moan she lets out blows my control to smithereens, and it only gets worse when she licks her lips. I can't decide if the universe is trying to reward or torture me right now. She mumbles unintelligibly when I shake her shoulder again. When she cracks open her eyes and smiles dreamily, I forget to breathe for a second or two.

"Mmm, Colin," she says, her voice husky with sleep.

I damn near fall to the fucking floor. Yeah. This isn’t a reward. I’m officially being tortured.

"You have to get up, baby," I croak in a voice that sounds like I just spent fifteen hours in the desert without water. And fuck my life I just called her baby out loud. I normally save that shit for when I imagine pumping into her tight little cunt. The thin cracks in my resistance are quickly becoming a fucking chasm.

She blinks a few times and yawns sweetly as she goes to sit up. My hand shoots out lightning fast and settles on her shoulder to keep her in place. As soon as I touch her, her eyes go wide. Ah. Now she’s awake.

“Pretty sure you’re naked under there,” I say before I take my hand away.

“I—what? How do you know?”

The expression of confusion on her face shouldn’t be sexy, but it is. I shrug as though I’m unaffected as I very fucking reluctantly take two steps back. “I don't know for sure, but your clothes are on the floor, so…” I trail off, letting the implication hang in the air.

“Oh,” she murmurs. “Oops.”

I swallow thickly as I look away, doing my best not to focus on how badly I want to fuck her through the mattress. "I came in to make sure you were okay," I explain. "I haven't seen you in three hours, and you weren't answering your cell or your bedroom door.”

She blushes and bites her lip, a visual I immediately file in my spank bank. "Wow," she says in a breathless sounding voice. "I passed out."

“It’s understandable since on a normal day you could sleep anywhere. Today was far more emotionally exhausting than normal. I fell asleep after my shower for about an hour.”

I don't mention that in addition to being emotionally wiped out I'd also been wholly spent after I jerked off and came twice in the shower in response to holding her in my arms earlier. The feel of those sweet little tits pressed against my chest was like a hit of pure lust. Thinking of the way she felt in my arms isn’t helping me calm down. I know that if I don't get the hell out of this room immediately, I'm going to need to take care of business again. It's a wonder my palms aren't callused, and my dick isn't chafing at this point.

“I’m going to go heat up dinner for us so that we can eat something before we go to Benny’s to meet Lolo and Sam.”

“Ah,” she says with a smile. “Thank you for waking me. I’d have been really upset if I slept through SamLo time. I’ll be down in a few.”

I nod as I take another step back. “Any particular requests from the leftovers?”

She considers for a few seconds. “A piece of barbeque chicken, a cup of Spanish rice and some of the Caesar salad, dressing on the side.”

“No macaroni and cheese?”

Elena loves macaroni and cheese, and Lolo made the world’s best for the funeral luncheon.

“Can’t do it,” Elena says with a disappointed sounding sigh. “When we go to the bar with Lolo and Sam I’m going to treat myself to a drink or two. The calories add up. I can’t get off course going into this last season.”

I hate when she deprives herself of food that she loves. I don’t know why it bothers me since it’s not as though she starves herself—she’s got curves and she’s strong and sexy as fuck—but it does. It’s admirable that she’s so hardcore about maintaining an exact weight because of cheerleading, but sometimes I’d like to see her eat without worrying about it.

"I'm going to whip up our plates while you get ready for our SamLo time," I say as I turn and head for the door. After leaving I close it behind me and let out a deep breath, silently giving thanks that I survived having a nearly naked Elena within touching distance. Lolo and Sam would tell me that my self-control is beyond stupid at this point, but I disagree. As much as I value their opinions, they're wrong about trying to push me toward Elena before she graduates.

Lolo (short for Lauren) and her wife Sam (short for Samantha) have been my best friends since further back than my memory even goes, which is to say we were hanging out in our cribs together. We grew up in the same neighborhood, so we've always been a trio. For years people would joke that I'd end up with one or the other, but I've known since at least ninth grade that they were going to wind up together—even during the hard times when they were both trying to pretend they weren’t gay. As my longest and dearest friends, there aren't any secrets between us. Not because we haven't each tried to be secretive about a thing or two, but because we see through each other. This means they are well aware of my Elena obsession. I'd been fairly certain they'd tell me I was insane once they figured it out, but that didn't happen. Instead, they’re both supportive of it. Whether because they both adore her or because they’re sappy-ass romantics at heart, I don’t know.

Elena is a one-in-a-million-girl, the kind people search for and never find. She’s gorgeous, compassionate, kind, smart and we she makes me laugh like no one else. The future I want has her in it—at the very center of it—and there’s nothing I won’t do to make that happen. The plan—and I'm trying to stick to it—is to wait until Elena graduates college before I make my play for her. I've been damn firm about that until this afternoon in the kitchen when I almost buckled. Without a doubt, I know that the second we see Lolo and Sam at the bar their Colin-radar is going to ping like crazy. I already know I’ll be forced to explain just how close I came to caving in today before the end of the night.

College was where I sowed my wild oats, and I know it was a fundamental transition for me between being eighteen and being a fully functional adult. Trying to tie Leni down would've meant depriving her of the experience, and as much as it has killed me, I believe she needed that. I also didn't think getting into what would primarily be a long-distance relationship with her would've been right. I'd have burned with jealousy sitting in my apartment one state over while she spent her days with frat boys. No, the right thing to do is to let her enjoy all of that without having to worry about a thirty-something boyfriend.

I’ve come this far—it won’t be much longer now. Only one more school year separates me from making my play for her. The way I feel about her isn’t small or temporary—if she’ll have me I mean to make this permanent. Less than a year now, I remind myself. As I head down the stairs to the kitchen I chant I think I can; I think I can in my head.

For the first time in the two years since I realized how deeply I feel for her, I’m not sure I believe that chant anymore. My once iron will is cracking by the hour.