So. Long(107)
She flops to her back, her full tits bouncing beautifully. “You fuck like a champion. I’ve never come that hard. That thing you did with your thumb? I don’t know if I should be ashamed that I liked it so much or be glad that you did it.”
I lie next to her, tracing the apple of her cheek. “Never be ashamed of what we do together. As long as we’re both enjoying it, there’s nothing wrong with it.”
Running my hand over her breast, I say, “I have to get ready to go to work, but I want to see you tomorrow. Tell me we can do this again. A lot of agains.”
She slides her hand to her crotch, rubbing her petals and looking toward the window. “I think I’d like that—”
It sounds like she’s unsure, so I ask, “But?”
One shoulder pulls up. “I think I need to focus on Dave. I have a bet to win, or my career is going to circle the drain. And even as much fun as fucking you is, it’s not going to pay my bills or help me succeed.”
I kiss the chocolate tip of her tit, and then I trail kisses to her navel and down to the smooth shaven skin around her pussy. I let my tongue slide across her clit and then tickle the edges of her lips. “Dave doesn’t have to know about me. No one needs to know about me. I can be your secret lover.”
“Secret lover?”
“Sure. Why not? It’ll be fun.” I pull her legs apart, dipping my head to run my tongue around her bud one more time.
She shivers and giggles. “You are so good at that. Quite possibly the best ever.”
Hot damn. Nothing better than compliments on how I eat pussy and fuck. She likes how I do both.
The tip of my tongue bats at her bean until her hips jerk. “You know… you said you don’t really even like me, so I don’t count.”
“I did say that, didn’t I?”
I suck her clit until she grunts and sighs. “If I don’t count… then it’s like I’m not even here.”
“Here?”
“Yeah, here. I don’t even need to be secret, because I don’t exist.” I blow on her pussy and lick her nub with the flat of my tongue.
I roll away from her and stand.
“That is something to consider.” She props up on her elbows.
I head into the bathroom to clean up. “You really should think about it.”
Stepping to the shitter closet, I reach to pull off the condom. My somewhat hard cock bounces over my ball sack, bare.
Bare?
My stomach hardens.
Fuck me.
Where the hell is it?
I close my eyes. A sigh escapes.
Bullshit.
It probably slipped off after I pulled out. Just—oh, man! I do not want to have to go back in there and tell Ronnie we have to find it.
Maybe I can check the bed when she leaves.
Unless…fuck.
She’s on the pill. Surely?
I turn to head back into the bedroom, trying to decide what to do.
Ronnie stands in the double doorway, between two fingers, held far away from her, hangs a used rubber. “We had a—mishap.”
I swallow hard.
I grin and cross to her. “Yeah. I noticed that. I was wondering if it slipped off while I was lying next to you.”
She bites the inside of her cheek. “Yeah. No, it didn’t. I found it—elsewhere.”
Elsewhere isn’t good.
“Where should I put this?” She raises her brows as though I’m a fucking idiot.
I hold out my hand. She drops it like it’s a particularly disgusting, dead worm.
Turning toward the waste basket, I check it out to see what the problem was.
“Fucker split right down the side.” I step next to her at the sink, pushing my hands under the stream of hot water. “This is the first time that’s happened to me. It must’ve been defective.”
She glances into the mirror and mumbles under her breath, “Something was defective.”
White knuckling the steering wheel, I bang my head against the center of it. I ignore the throb this causes at the stitched place at my hairline. I deserve a headache.
A car honks. I pop up.
Crap. Green.
I step on the gas, and my car shoots forward. I gnaw my bottom lip the rest of the drive home from Jackson’s place.
It’s fine. It’ll be fine.
Damn.
Well, it’s only been two months since I had my last pill. I wonder how long they stay in the system.
Why, oh why haven’t I renewed my birth control prescription?
I was too busy not having sex, because I was trying to have my book ready to publish before Valentine’s Day. That was my sole priority.
I was writing a book and trying to tell other women how to catch the man of their dreams.
Today, the anti-man of my dreams fucked me until I could hardly breathe, brought me ten times the pleasure any other guy has even wanted to give—much less delivered—and now I might be pregnant.