Glitch (Next Level Book 1)

Ara is a Goddess. A fiery, wicked deity I plan to stay on my knees for until this floating rock we’re on blows to smithereens. I’m never going to get tired of making her come. The scent, the taste, the sounds. She’s a full-bodied experience I wasn’t prepared for.

I’m so grateful Trey found a way to shove us together. I’m forever in his debt.

I edge my girl for another half hour, playing with her body, learning and memorizing every inch. She’s sweating and panting and flushed. I want to shove my cock inside her. Feel what it’s like when her body grips my dick while she comes.

But that’s not happening tonight. I want her to come back for more tomorrow. And the next day. And the next.

I’m marrying this woman, mark my words.

So my cock will stay where it is. Tonight is all about Ara.

I’ve never felt a connection like this with someone before. And for Ara to trust me wholeheartedly with her body is a gift I’ll treasure until my last breath. We’ve wasted time tiptoeing around each other online, and I’m done with the distance and general convos. I want to know everything. Be part of everything.

Somewhere in the room, I swear I hear a little clicking noise. I look down and see the toys have rolled together on the mattress by my left leg. My little Kitty likes to play a lot. Good for her. And that travel-sized lipstick toy has my imagination on full blast.

I fuck her slowly with the glass dildo, adjusting the pressure on her clit with my thumb until I eventually lean in and replace it with my tongue. Then I shove two fingers in her pussy and stretch her a little more.

Three stimulants at once, and my multitasking skills are rewarded in under a minute.

Ara’s screaming. Her body quakes under my hands. When she orgasms, I swear I feel just as good as she does. I’m not even joking. She’s a mess under me. I’ve made her squirt, cream, laugh, and even cry with how overstimulated she is.

What a masterpiece.

I pull the dildo out and say, “Don’t move.” Then I get up and carefully place the toy in her bathroom for later.

Coming back, I’m not surprised she’s moved. Four. Four more beautiful handprints are going on that luscious, bratty ass of hers.

She’s staring at me, heavy-lidded and exhausted. Her hair is stuck to her sweet face. She’s radiant, and I take immense pride knowing I helped get her this way.

“Do I get to suck your dick now?”

My eyebrows lift to my hairline. If she’s not passed out, I haven’t done my job well enough. “Do you want to?”

“Mmm hmm.” But she’s already closed her eyes. I quietly lay down beside my girl and spoon her until she falls asleep, which doesn’t take long. Once I know she’s knocked out, I creep out of the room and notice her cell buzzing in her purse. Whoever it is will have to wait. Hope it’s not an emergency.

Speaking of which, I pull my cell out and check it. Beetle’s called twice, but it’s definitely past his bedtime, so I can’t call back. He was probably bored out of his mind. He’s grounded for getting that infraction, because yes, Erin found out about it. The principal called and told her. I feel bad he’s having trouble in school, and I want to help him rebuild his make-believe world, but I’m secretly grateful he’s lost gaming privileges for a week. It gives me undivided Ara time.

My stomach rumbles, and I glance at the clock. Holy shit, it’s almost two am.

Time flies when you’re having fun.

I pad quietly into her kitchen and put away the rest of the groceries we’d abandoned. Then I make myself useful for a little while. By the time I’m pulling pizza out of the oven, Ara’s blinking sleepily at me from the doorway. “What are you doing?”

“Making dinner,” I say with an easy smile. She’s so perfect. Her hair’s a knotty mess on her head, and she’s put on little shorts and an anime t-shirt with the neckline cut big, so it falls off her shoulders. All she’s missing is the tube socks.

“I thought you’d left.” She looks confused.

I gently close her oven door and rest the pizza on her stovetop. “Do you want me to leave?” Not gonna lie, my heart’s in my throat waiting for her answer.

“No, I just…”

“Thought I’d have my way with you and skip out once your guard’s down.”

Her silence is confirmation enough.

Jesus, she must have dated some real fuckheads to automatically think that of me. “I didn’t stay so you’d suck me off, either.” I fear that’s where her head went next. “I honestly just wanted to stay and make dinner.”

“At two am?”

I’m not sure what’s happening here, or why the atmosphere between us has changed. “If you want me to leave, I can g—”

“No!” She cuts me off. “Ugh.” Ara scrubs her face with both hands and groans. “I’m sorry. I’m fucking this up, aren’t I?”

Yes and no. I’m not even sure. “This is a lot. I get it. And that’s my fault.” I cross my arms over my chest and lean against the counter.

Ara comes into the kitchen, her shoulders slumped. “I’m in my head again. It keeps happening.”

She wasn’t in her head back in the bedroom.

Or was she?

I suddenly realize Ara’s an enigma I might never fully figure out. Maybe that’s okay. Or maybe I need to give us more time. Probably both.

“I feel like I’ve known you forever,” I say cautiously. “Is that weird?”

“No.” She comes even closer. “I feel the same way. I just wasn’t gonna say it.”

“I should probably get going.”

“But you made pizza.”

“I figured you’d be hungry. And thirsty.” I point at the glass of water with ice I’d left on the counter. I was going to bring her dinner in bed, but she woke before I was done setting things up. I think she figures that out when she sees the origami rose next to and the glass, both set on a cookie sheet because I wasn’t sure what else to use as a tray to bring it all to her.

“You’re taking care of me,” she whispers. This is the second time Ara’s referenced what I’ve done in a way that makes it sound like a phenomenon.

Her eyes sail to mine, and I see she’s close to crying. Only instead of come-too-hard tears, these are more delicate. Vulnerable.

“Heyyyy.” I close the space between us. Cupping her face, I swipe my thumb over her cheek to catch her first tear. “Why are you upset?”

“I’m not upset.”

I feel like a piece of shit. I’ve gone overboard and shouldn’t have. I just thought I’d read her right, and she wanted what I did, and now I’m afraid I’ve misunderstood the whole thing. “You look upset, Ara.”

“I’m just so mad at myself for not asking for your number sooner.”

Her confession shocks me.

“I can’t tell you how many times I’d log onto Discord and go into our channel, Glitch. Then I’d chicken out on saying anything and close it.”

“I was no better.” The energy between us shifts a little. The tightness in my chest slightly eases. “I should have put myself out there a long fucking time ago, Ara.” Instead, I kept my distance and nearly lost her when she started dating someone else.

“No more dragging our feet,” she says. “Promise?”

“Sooo, we’re getting married in an hour?”

Her laugh warms my body from tongue to toes. But I’m only half joking. I’d marry her on the spot, right here, right now, if it was possible. I know Ara’s meant to be mine.

Her cell buzzes in the living room. She looks over, her brow furrowing.

“You gonna answer?” If someone was calling me this late, I’d be worried.

“No.” Her tone is guarded.

Annnd now I’m on high alert. Does she already know who that would be, calling her so late? “Is there something going on I can help with?”

“No.” But she’s cagey again and I don’t like it. “I’ve already handled it.”

If that was true, she wouldn’t be having this reaction to a middle-of-the-night phone call she won’t answer. I bite my tongue because if she doesn’t want me to know, that’s her decision and I’ll respect it.

“It’s Jason,” she says. “I’m almost sure of it. He does this sometimes. I’ve blocked him, but he uses other people’s phones to call me from.”

“Maybe you should check to be sure? What if it’s a family member or something with an emergency?”

She gives me a long, solemn look, then pads over to the couch and digs her phone out. I turn and plate two slices of pizza, so I don’t look like a rabid guard dog foaming at the mouth. Ara comes back in and takes her plate from me. “It was him.”

Do not be aggressive. Do not be possessive.

“He always breathes heavy into the phone.”

I’m glad I haven’t picked my plate up yet because I’m sure it would break under my clenching hand. Taking in a few deep breaths, I hope I sound calm when I ask, “How long ago did you break up?”

“About six weeks ago. Just after he broke my computer.”

“I’m glad you got away from that asshole.”

“Me too.”

I grab my plate and follow her out to the little dining table between the kitchen and living room. I glance at her door and immediately plan out a new security system for her apartment. One deadbolt doesn’t cut it for me.

“Thank you for telling me,” I say, sitting down across from her.

“Thanks for listening.”

I’ll always listen. I’m good at it, and I want her to know she can come to me about anything—something I wish she’d known sooner.

Ara shrugs. “He’ll get over it.”

I leave it alone, but I’m not convinced she’s right. Ara’s amazing and Jason’s lost her. Even if it’s his own fault, that doesn’t mean he won’t regret it enough to try and beg her for another chance. He’s done that plenty of times already and his persistence has paid off in the past.

But I can’t let that stop me from showing her there’s better out there than that fuckface.

“Olives, huh?” I chomp down.

“Are you judging me, Glitch?”

“A little.” I take another bite.

“Better than pineapple.”

“I knew it.” I lean back and wipe my mouth with a napkin. “I just knew there’d be something about you that wasn’t perfect.”

“Hey!” She laughs and takes another bite of her veggie-laden pizza. Her gaze narrows at me. “You seriously like pineapple on your pizza?”

Shrugging, I sip my water and sit back. “Is that a deal breaker?”

“Maybe.” She’s so cheeky.

After we banter back and forth and devour the entire pizza, Ara yawns and she grabs our plates to carry them back into the kitchen.

“I can wash.”

“I’ve got it, Glitch. Just sit down for a second and relax.” After cleaning our plates, she wipes her hands dry and comes back to the table. “What time does your shop open?”

“Eleven.” It’s four am at this point. “I don’t have to go in, though.” I never really do. My shop is a well-oiled machine that basically runs itself. I just go in because I like having control and seeing the kids enjoy themselves in the safe space I’ve created for them.

Ara twirls a tendril of her pink hair around her finger. “Do you want to see my studio?”

“Abso-fucking-lutely.”

Her smile is massive. “Yay!” She grabs her purse from the couch.

“Wait, you mean now?”