Page 89 of Yolo

“I was trying to pull out of you so I could come on your belly,” he admitted after a while.

“You just stole the best orgasm of my life from me,” I admitted nervously. “I’m sorry, I wasn’t thinking straight.”

He smoothed his hand up my hip, then pushed back inside of me with his hard cock, now much slicker than before.

I groaned deliciously, loving the way that just that one more had me bowing off the bed in pleasure.

“In for a penny…”

He started to fuck me again, this time making sure to get me off the right way.

It was as we were coming down from his second orgasm, and my third, that a loud bang followed by a “Garrett?” had us both getting off the bed in haste.

“Be there in a minute, Mom! Showing Bindi how to use the shower!” he called, then closed the door to his bedroom with a solid thud.

There was laughter on the other side of the door that had my lips twitching.

They knew what they’d just walked in on.

“Shower?” I asked. “Why…”

“Baby, you’re covered in my cum. I’m pretty sure it’s in your hair,” he admitted. “Got a little wild there for a second.”

It had.

I reached for my hair, and sure enough, felt something sticky there.

“How?” I giggled.

He picked me up, tossing me over his shoulder, and I let out a surprised squeak. “Gee!”

“It’s easier to just take you in here,” he teased. “Plus, this way, I get to touch your sweet ass.”

And touch it he did.

The shower took me a lot longer than I intended because it was massive, and finding the products he’d pointed out took way longer than I thought it would.

Plus, his shower was really freakin’ nice.

As in, I was going to make this my new home and move in, nice.

The second hard part was finding a towel, then some clothes.

Everything was just so dang big that by the time I found the stupid towel—which was surprisingly on a heated towel bar up high, that I decided to open the bedroom door and call out to Garrett.

I want a healthy relationship with toxic sex.

—Bindi to Garrett

BINDI

“Hey, Gee?” I called despite hearing him and his parents talking. “I know that you’re busy, but I can’t find anything at all, and I’m getting a little frustrated.”

The talking stopped immediately and Garrett rushed into the room.

“Shit, I’m sorry,” he said. “I didn’t think.”

“It’s okay,” I said, even though I was sure that my frustration was evident. “Finding the towel was hard enough, and I slipped and banged my knee on the tile floor. You don’t have any rugs.”

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