Teddy

ONCE THE SUPPER CLEANUP IS COMPLETE, we head outside for our evening walk with the dog. The closer we inch toward summer, the longer the days become. The sun is just now beginning its descent, bathing everything in a warm glow.

Scout races ahead, knowing the path well by now, as Jensen and I trail behind him with locked hands.

"So what's your number?" he asks at random. When I look at him in confusion, he turns away, a blush creeping into his cheeks. "Kids, I mean. How many do you want?"

"Well," I say, smirking mischievously, suddenly wanting to mess with him, "imaginary Jensen and Teddy always had at least 5, if not 7."

His head swings back to me, his mouth open in surprise. When he sees me fighting a laugh, he bumps his hip against me, and I stumble a few steps before finding my footing again.

"That's just mean, Teddy," he says with the grumpy look back on his face. "What's your real number?"

"Honestly, I don't know," I admit. We walk a few more steps while I gather my thoughts. "I mean, it was only me and my sister growing up, but we were never close, you know? And then there's your family. I was always kind of jealous of your full house. Sure, it was loud and crazy, and you were always whining about privacy and complaining about this sibling or that sibling. But you always had each other, you know? And even today, you're all still super close. As much as that can be really annoying sometimes since you're all up in each other's business, it's also really nice. So I know I want more than 2, but maybe not as many as 5. Somewhere in the middle probably. What about you, J? What's your number?"

He squeezes my hand. "Same. More than 2 but less than 5. Somewhere in the middle sounds about right to me."

We smile at each other, and I'm suddenly hit with a rush of happiness. This is my person. He's it for me. The realization makes me anxious to document it, so I tug on his hand to stop him, and I pull out my phone. "We need more pictures of us, Jensen."

"Right here? Right now?" He whistles for Scout and the dog circles back around to us, busying himself with smelling the base of a nearby tree.

"Yeah now." I pass my phone to him. "You do it, though, since your arms are longer." I wrap my arm around his waist and rest my head against him, ready for the selfie. Jensen struggles with the task, his finger continually finding its way into the frame. After about the tenth attempt, I take the phone from him, chuckling at his lack of selfie skills.

"The secret of a good selfie," I tell him, amusement lacing my words, "is the self-timer. That way you don't have to mess around with trying to hit the button."

I tap the timer settings and hand the phone back to him, returning to my place snuggled against his body. The camera is set to burst mode, so it takes a series of images in a matter of seconds. I quickly review the images and stow my phone back in my pocket, knowing I'll be studying the pictures later—evidence of the moment my heart recognized my person.

By the time we circle back to Jensen's apartment, the orange of the sunset has blended into blue hues. Soon, blackness will take over, the sky a canvas of twinkling stars.

Scout beats us to the door, and he paws at it, his eager tail wagging emphatically. Once Jensen opens the door, he flies up the stairs and then immediately sails back down, repeating this as many times as he can before we reach the top, apparently wanting to cram in as much exercise as he possibly can before settling into the calmness of nighttime.

By the time we reach the landing, the dog is panting, his tongue hanging out of his mouth. He goes straight for his water dish, lapping up as much water into his mouth as he splashes onto the floor in the process. Jensen grumbles about this, as he does every single time, and toes a towel over the mess to clean it up.

"Dibs on the shower!" I call, running through the apartment to the bathroom. It's a recurring argument that Jensen should be able to go first since he claims I steal all the hot water. My rebuttal is always the same: we could shower together and share the hot water supply.

Someday, he always promises. Someday.

I stand under the steaming hot water longer than necessary just to spite my boyfriend. His "someday" response is growing tired. Every time he steps into the shower alone, I'm tempted to gift him with a surprise visit, forcing the someday to be today. But I begrudgingly respect his wishes every single time, and I behave myself.

When I finally get out, I dry off and wrap my body in a towel before exiting the bathroom into Jensen's bedroom. He's lounging on the bed, thumbing through his phone. "Leave me any hot water?" he asks as he sits up and discards his phone on the bedside table.

When I don't answer him, he rounds the bed and stands behind me, gathering my wet hair in his hand. He licks the water droplets off my shoulder and makes his way over to my neck, nipping a few times before burying his nose in my hair. He hums in pleasure when he gets a hit of the strawberry shampoo he adamantly insisted I leave at his place since I seem to shower here more often than not lately anyway.

Once he's in the shower, I swipe through the selfies of us on my phone. It's like a moving picture reel, the photos progressing as I flip through the series. It starts with us smiling at the camera, each frame shifting slightly: Jensen's head turning to look at me, then we're both looking at each other, our heads slowly inching toward each other until it ends with a handful of reels with our faces smooshed together in a kiss.

I pause on a particular image and pinch my thumb and forefinger on the screen to zoom in. It's a photo of us mid-kiss. The tip of Jensen's tongue is poking out, paused in the frame, as it made its way into my mouth. I scroll onto the preceding images to watch his tongue disappear into my mouth, but I return to the one with the tongue paused in mid-action.

There's something about seeing him like this that lights up my body, signaling my desire for the man. I can feel the signs of my own arousal as I stare at the picture.

"What are you doing?" Jensen asks, sneaking up on me from behind. I jump and scream, his sudden appearance startling me.

Clutching the phone to my racing heart, I glare at him. "You are such an ass!"

He chuckles, pulling me into his arms. "I didn't mean to scare you," he explains, "but with the way your nose was buried in your phone, you must not have heard me come in."

I blush, remembering the way I was salivating over the picture of his tongue. Shoving out of his embrace, I quickly explain, "I was just looking at our selfies."

"Will you send me your favorites?"

"Why?" I tease. "Do you want to post them on Facebook?"

"You're such a shit sometimes, Teddy. You know I don't do social media." He takes the phone from me and sets it on the nightstand before turning his attention back on me. "You forgot to get dressed, baby."

He fingers the towel where it's knotted at my breasts and tries steal a peek inside. I copy his actions, skimming a finger under the towel that's slung low around his hips. "Maybe we just skip clothes tonight."

"Baby," he warns. "Behave." He spanks my ass, dipping to press a soft kiss to my lips before disappearing into his closet. He returns wearing only a pair of black boxer briefs, running the towel over his damp hair.

He stops beside me where I'm hunched over a bag on the floor, rifling through the contents for a pair of panties. I gave up packing pajamas because I always steal Jensen's shirts anyway.

Jensen pulls me to my feet, frowning at me. "That," he says, kicking my bag on the floor, "makes this feel like we're having a sleepover. Why don't I make room in my closet, clear some drawers out or something? That way you can keep some stuff here instead of living out of a damn bag all week."

"You're ready to give me space in your closet but you're not ready to fuck me?"

Without warning, he picks me up and tosses me onto the bed. I yelp and instinctively clutch the towel that came loose in the commotion. He clocks my actions, his eyes widening, as if he's suddenly aware of my near state of undress, and he pounces. He hovers over me, straddling my body, and rips the towel down to my waist, exposing my chest. The cool air puckers my nipples. He takes enough time to gulp before he's on me, his mouth sucking and nibbling one breast while his hand kneads and squeezes the other.

"Baby," I laugh, "you're a fucking fiend."

He growls with his head buried between my tits. "Have you seen them?" he asks, coming up for air. His face screws up as an idea seems to come to him. "You do it. Touch yourself. Show me how you like it."

I shake my head as my cheeks heat. "You do just fine."

"Fine?" he spits out. "Can't express how much I like that glowing review."

I hide my smile behind my hand. He's so fucking cute when he's grumpy. "You do more than fine, baby. It's pretty obvious how much I like it, isn't it?"

"You do get pretty loud. I've thought about covering your mouth so you don't scare the dog," he says ruefully and then bursts out laughing when I try to knee him in the groin. "But, seriously, baby. Show me, please. Everything I've been doing is for me. What I like. I want to know what you like, what feels good for you."

I consider his words for a minute before I nod my head. Suddenly feeling shy and consumed with a wave of stage fright, I palm my breasts tentatively. When I'm feeling braver, I tweak my nipples harder than he usually does. The way he studies my movements has me rubbing my legs together to relieve the desire pooling in my pussy. I take his hands and place them on my boobs. He pinches my nipples between his fingers trying to copy what he watched me do, and I whisper, "Harder."

He applies more pressure and I hiss, my body arching off the bed. "Yes," I encourage. "Now with your teeth."

He takes a nipple in his mouth, biting softly at first, watching my reaction to gauge how hard he should go, and then he increases the pressure.

"Ahhh," I scream, squeezing my eyes closed. "Fuck, Jensen. Again." He repeats it on the other boob, gaining more confidence each time I react to his touch. He takes it upon himself to apply the same pressure to the meaty portions of my boobs, and I already know I'll be gifted with several love bites by the time he's finished.

"Teddy," he breathes against me, his face once again buried between my tits. He licks the valley before looking at me, his finger tracing up and down where his tongue just was. "Someday I'm going to fuck right here."

The admission has me squirming underneath him, the towel loosening from my movements. Jensen's eyes trail down my body as if he's just remembering only a towel covers up the rest of me. It's bunched up, draped loosely over my pussy.

"I want to see you, Teddy." His voice is whispered, the desire barely contained.

I nod, unable to speak in fear that I'll spook him, and he'll inconveniently remember his promise to take things slow.

He lifts the towel so slowly that I almost scream. I will myself to lie still, my chest heaving with anticipation. Finally, he tosses the towel off the bed, leaving me completely bare to him. His breath hitches and he stares speechless for what feels like an eternity. Then he squeezes his eyes shut, fisting his hands into the blanket. When he reopens his eyes, the look on his face is almost feral.

"Teddy." He has a way of saying my name like it's a full sentence.

When he doesn't make a move, I open my legs. His eyes move around, eating me up in silence. And when he still does nothing, I decide to take matters into my own hands by running my middle finger down my center, being sure to keep my movements slow. His trance-like state has me worried he can still spook easily. When he still does nothing, I guide his hand to my pussy.

Once his fingers hit the warm center, he jolts back. I suck in my breath, praying that he doesn't end things just as they're starting to heat up. Instead, he swipes a finger along my folds and grins at me. "So wet for me, baby."

My breath whooshes out of me, and I moan as he continues his exploration.

He fingers me, watching to see how I react and then adjusting his movements to suit my pleasure. His thumb grazes my clit, and my hips buck off the bed. He pins me down with his free arm over my stomach without missing a beat with the hand buried in my pussy.

Without removing his hand, his body hovers over me, taking my mouth with his in a bruising kiss, his tongue mimicking the way his fingers move inside me.

"I need more," he whispers against my mouth. I can feel his body trembling above me. "I want to taste you."

"Yes," I moan. "Please."

He takes my mouth for another hard kiss before he makes his way down my body with a detour at my tits, and then lingers at my stomach. I can feel his hot breath against my skin as he works to control himself.

"Jesus, Teddy," he pants, resting his chin on my stomach to look up at me. "I think I might be obsessed with you."

"Good. You better be."

He winks at me before he finally positions his face directly over my pussy. He runs his nose along my seam, inhaling my scent. I squirm, suddenly feeling self-conscious, but he holds me down.

"Baby. Fuck," he rasps huskily. "I have a feeling this isn't going to be good for my obsession."

Before I have time to process this, he has his tongue on me with a quick swipe through my folds. He stops and buries his face in my pussy with a low groan. I feel his hot breath on my sensitive skin, and I arch into him.

"Jensen," I whine.

"Yeah, baby?"

"You're so mean to me. You don't always have to go so slow."

He chuckles. "You could learn some patience, baby. I told you before it'd be worth the wait." Then he's eating me out hungrily and I'm writhing against his face, hands buried in his hair, making lots of noises I should probably be embarrassed about, but I can't seem to care with his face in my pussy.

"Jensen. Jensen. Holy fuck. Baby. Oh shit. Shit."

He grabs my ass with both hands and hoists me up a few inches off the bed, pausing to look up at me. "Worth the wait, right?"

He simply smirks when I try pushing his face back down in response. "Less talking, big guy."

He chuckles against my pussy again, and I arch into him with a low moan. Then he's attacking my clit with licks, bites, sucks, repeat. After a few repetitions of this, he inserts a few fingers into my opening, one finger at a time, thrusting a couple of times before adding a second and then the third finger. I buck into him, shamelessly riding his face as the glorious sensations take over my body and I lose all control of myself.

I feel the warm tingles start, signaling the impending orgasm, and I chase the tingles until they spread and expand and heat and finally explode, jerking my body with a series of deep moans.

"Jesus, Jensen," I scream as my body fights to come down from the rush.

I cover my face with my arm. He pulls my arm away and kisses my pink cheeks.

"That was hot, Teddy," he says in a husky voice. "You're so gorgeous all the time. But when you come? Jesus, so fucking hot, baby. Don't hide it from me." He takes my mouth with his, plunging his tongue inside, and I taste myself.

When I reach for the band on his boxer briefs, he stops me. "I think we went far enough tonight."

I push him off me and tackle him to the bed. "Shut up, Jensen. You're not always the boss. It's my turn to play."