My College Bully Invited Me to His Hotel Room
He sent me a mirror selfie. Shirtless. Hard. Desperate.
Woke up with sore knees and a smug little grin.
Got in the shower, hot water running down my neck, and checked my phone out of habit. Five texts from Wes.
WES:
You ready for the reunion event?
I can’t stop thinking about your mouth.
You’re a fucking problem.
I need to see you.
I’m hard as fuck. Come over.
I laughed. This the same guy who used to laugh at me freshman psych?
Now he’s texting me before 9 a.m. like a desperate little slut.
Wes had texted again.
WES:
You left me hard as fuck last night. That was evil.
I smirked. Typed back with one hand while I wiped the mirror with the other.
ME:
You earned it.
WES:
No, I didn’t earn anything. That’s what you said.
So tell me what I have to do.
I stared at the message. Then leaned back against the counter, biting my lip and sent him a message.
ME:
You wanna fuck me?
Prove you're worth it.
I’m not some easy hotel fuck. You used to bully me, remember?
I just took a shower.
Three dots.
WES:
I do remember. And I’m trying to make it up to you.
Please, Noah. Just thinking about you in that towel’s making me crazy.
I paused. Raised an eyebrow.
And then—another message came through.
A photo. Wes. In the hotel hallway mirror. Tight black shirt, sleeves hugging his arms, buttons straining over his chest. Fitted pants. Fresh trim. Slight smirk.
WES:
I know you like black. So I wore this tight fucking shirt for you.
Can’t wait to see your face when I walk into that reunion.
My cock twitched.
A few seconds later, another photo came through.
This time, every button on the shirt was undone. The black fabric hung open, sleeves still on, but the rest— Just abs, pecs, that thick chest he used to smirk over in locker room mirrors. His torso looked carved. The kind of body you want to bite. And he knew it. He was showing off. For me.
ME:
You’re lucky I’m not walking in wearing just a towel.
WES:
Show me.
ME:
What?
WES:
Show me.
Please Noah.
I stood in the mirror, towel slung low, abs wet and glistening, water trailing down my chest. I flexed a little. Let the towel hang lower. Took the pic.
Sent it.
WES:
Fuck. Fuck.
You look so fucking good.
I swear to god, Noah. I will beg. Right here. On my knees if you want.
Just say the word.
Pathetic. But hot.
I was grinning now. Hard, cocky grin. Felt it in my chest.
ME:
That's the plan.
Then I turned off my phone. Left him leaking.
He bullied me for four fucking years. Made me feel small. Weak. Invisible.
I wasn’t gonna let him inside me that easy. Now? I was the one in control. And he could feel it.
Let him crave me. The same way I craved him. Every. Damn. Year.
But this time? I get to choose when he gets more.
----------
The reunion event was already in full swing by the time I showed up. Room packed. Loud. The usual fake-ass energy. I didn’t care about the drinks or the memories. I was looking for one thing. Wes was at the bar, black T-shirt tight around those arms, one hand gripped around a whiskey glass like it was my throat. His eyes found me the second I stepped in.
I didn’t look at him. I made him sweat. I said hi to a few classmates. Gave them my best smile. Let someone I didn’t even remember hug me for too long. Wes never stopped staring. Then Ryan showed up, patting him on the back. The two of them laughing like the world wasn’t tilting. Ryan saw me. Smirked. Sipped his beer.
I winked.
Wes clenched his jaw.
I slid through the crowd until I was right behind him, let my fingers trail low across the small of his back, and leaned in.
“You still stroking that cock thinking about my mouth, Carter?”
He inhaled sharply.
I brushed past him, just barely grazing his ass.
“You left me aching,” he muttered.
I turned and whispered near his ear, “Good. Ache harder.”
Ryan clocked the whole thing, sipping his drink, smirking again like he knew what was coming. He didn’t.
Wes tried to reach for me, but I stepped out of his grip and walked off, hips swaying just enough to piss him off more. I didn’t care if he was leaking in his jeans or dying to bend me over a table.
He was gonna starve for it.
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