Above Water ✔️

27 - all the way [m]

I think Dallas had a thing for babying me.

Maybe not as far as an infantilism kink—shiver—but he definitely liked to pamper. I didn't mind, of course. He brought me upstairs to the bathroom where I brushed my teeth and he started unbuttoning my shirt, all gentle fingers and sweet kisses on my neck.

Then he brought me to our bedroom, where he dressed me, despite my protests. He only smiled, cute little dimples popping out, and pulled my shoes off, then my socks, then my pants. I sat idly, just watching.

It was sort of amusing. He was nothing like I ever expected him to be. The tall, intimidating, hot older brother that gave me frat boy vibes the first time I met him was sweet. Nurturing. Maybe cared too much . . . but he still cared. And also as horny as me, so that was a plus.

I let him pick some comfy sweats for me and pull them on my body. I didn't see the point when they'd be coming off soon anyways.

"I'm gonna go downstairs and grab some things. I'll be right back," he said and left, but not before giving me a passionate kiss that left my cheeks red.

I hoped he'd bring the wine. Or liquor. Anything.

Dallas might not have been my usual type looks-wise, but he was my dream man in every other aspect. It was such a shame this would only last the summer. He would likely get his internship thing at the law firm and I'd go back to working in a kitchen in New York. I felt like a broken record, reminding myself that this wouldn't last forever.

I knew it was because if I let myself care about Dallas—like really, truly care—then I would be getting hurt. It didn't matter how many walls I put up, how much I had to give up, or who I had to shut out. Having been burned too many times in the struggle I knew as looking for love, I had to protect myself. Until recently, I never put myself first.

And to have something so perfect at my disposal? I couldn't allow myself to get attached.

I heard glasses clinking in the hallway and a bit of a struggle before Dallas popped his head in. "This is the surprise," he said with a smile. I watched in anticipation as he turned the corner. In his hands was two wine glasses, a bottle of rosé, a can of whipped cream, and a plate of cut strawberries. "I really hope you like strawberries."

"What demon doesn't like strawberries?"

"My mom doesn't," he laughed, setting everything down on the bed beside the glasses. "But I thought we could make use of the whipped cream in other ways, too."

I leaned over the plate to cup his cheek and plant a long, sweet kiss on his lips. No tongue, just affection. "Sounds good to me," I said softly when I pulled away. "Cream me." I sat with my mouth open, his eyes crinkling amusement as he squirted some whipped cream in.

Dallas poured us some glasses and set the bottle down on the floor. He sprayed a generous amount of whipped cream onto the bright red fruits and treated me to another squirt in my mouth. He did too much and it overflowed onto my lips. Wasting no time, he swept in and licked the excess off himself, and let out a satisfied moan.

Tonight was going to be fun.

"Can you change your clothes? You're making me itch just look at you," I teased, referring to the dress shirt and Chino's he was still in.

"As you wish," he said and stood up, dropping his pants. He unbuttoned the shirt slowly and seductively, his eyes trained on me with a ghost of a smirk on his lips. "Like this?"

"Mm, slower," I said and leaned back, enjoying the show. "Do it with your teeth."

Dallas broke character and laughed. "I don't think I'm flexible enough for that."