The Story Of An Anonymous Girl ✔

Chapter 52

TW: Mature Themes in this chapter.

MIA

I wake up huddled up against Oliver's chest. I turn around to face my sleeping boyfriend, who looks innocent as hell with his palm curled up and resting on his chest. Innocent? He does look innocent when he sleeps. His cheekbones are high and angled, and the light catches it just right to accentuate them. I run my fingers along his long eyelashes that were resting on his cheeks. Moving my fingers to his hair, I move them so that they aren't covering his forehead. I start to massage his head, and he moans, making me freeze.

"It feels so good, Mia. Don't stop." He moans.

I continue, and he starts to moan again, sending shivers down to the lower regions of my body. I sit upon my knees for better access, but he grabs me by my waist and sets me down on his chest, making me squeal.

"Please continue. My mom used to do it till I was eight. I had forgotten it used to feel so good." He says in a sleepy, husky voice sending a shiver down my spine. I start to massage his head again, and his hands slip under the sweatshirt, resting on my sides. Only then do I realise that I'm only wearing underwear underneath the sweatshirt.

He starts pacing his fingers up and down, tickling me with his blunt nails. "Oliver, stop tickling me." I say.

"Your skin is so soft." He stops moving his fingers and says.

"Yeah, because I moisturise it, unlike some people." I reply sneeringly.

"It's too much work, Mia." He replies.

"Squirting some lotion on your hands and rubbing it on your entire body is work? Seriously, Oliver?" I say, running my fingers through his soft, luscious locks.

"Yeah, it is, for me. Why don't you do it for me?" He suggests, grinning widely.

"Smooth dumbass. Not happening, though. Let's go for a run." I respond and get up from his chest.

"Okay. I think your yoga pants are there in the closet." He says as I am about exit the room.

"I'll be down in two minutes." I say and exit the room.

I quickly don a pair of yoga pants and a tank top with a sports bra and move downstairs, seeing Oliver in the same gym shorts and a black tee. "Why were you wearing a blue tee and white jeans this morning, by the way?" I ask, tying my sneakers.

"I thought....." He fades.

"You thought?" I ask, persuading him to continue.

"Thatyoumightlikemebetterinthose." He says in one breath.

"Speak properly, Oliver." I assert.

He takes a deep breath and says, "I thought that you might like me better in those."

Facepalming myself, I pull him into a bone-crushing hug and say and say, "Oliver, I love you just the way you are. You don't have to change yourself. I love you for you. Not for your body or clothes. And.....I like you best in a white tee and black jeans with combat boots." I say, smiling.

"That's an oddly specific description, but I think I should get more of white tees and black jeans." He says, grinning.

"You have twenty each, Oliver. I don't think you need any more." I state.

"But you like me the best in those." He whines and frowns.

"Yes, I do like you in those. But that does not mean that you hoard them in your giant closet." I say sternly.

"Ugh, fine, Mia. I won't hoard them." He says and kisses my hair. He hugs me harder, and I say, "C-Can't......b-br-breathe."

We pull away, and I smother his face with kisses.