Page 86 of If Only In Our Dreams

“I can make it real nice and wet for you, Ben Ben,” I informed him. “I keep it snug.” I was full of shit. There was no such thing as keeping your ass snug. At least…I didn’t think so? But it was turning him on. And I could feel it. So I wasn’t about to stop. “Keep it nice and tiny and tight for that big, big dick to goooOooo—oh-woah.” My back hit the couch with athump, the wind knocked right out of me.

“You have such amouthon you,” Ben hummed, one of those gigantic hands squeezing my face and making my lips purse. I whined, low and soft, unable to help it.

Please, dick gods, let my dick wake up,I prayed.

“Such a pretty mouth,” Ben added, staring down at my lips. “And it says thefilthiestthings.”

“Trashmouth,” I blurted, though it was muffled by the fact he was squeezing me. My cheeks went hot. “Comes with the territory.”

Such a pretty mouth,Ben’s words echoed around inside my head.

You’re a good boy, Robin.

Gorgeous.

Sweetheart.

“Rosie wants a pet cat,” Ben continued, like he wasn’t looming over me. Like he wasn’t holding me still. Like I wasn’t imagining thirty ways I could take his dick in the next thirty seconds. “I told her if she can raise a hundred dollars that after Christmas we would go pick one up from the shelter.”

Oh.

Oh my heart.

“I hope you know I’m going to be swearing up a storm around those kids,” I told him. “How much do they have left? Twenty bucks? Thirty? That’s easy. I can do that in less than a minute.”

“I appreciate your enthusiasm,” Ben replied dryly. He had the sexiest look on his face. Half grumpy, half amused. “But thepointof making them earn it was to teach them patience and that there is nothing better than working hard for something.”

“Listening to other people swear is working hard?” I blinked, confused.

Ben snorted. His brow furrowed. A grin spread across his lips. “When you put it like that, you have a point.”

“This is why you need me around,” I told him. “I’ve got fresh perspective.”

“That’s not the only reason I need you around,” Ben said, sweeter than sugar. He leaned down and kissed my pursed lips. I could taste wine on his, familiar and musky sweet.

“You’re after my bussy,” I mumbled against his mouth, delighted when he jerked back so he wouldn’t laugh right in my face. “I just know it.”

“Jesus Christ, Robin,” Ben cackled. He’d released my face, thank God. Because this time, he would not stop laughing. His hands went up, covering his expression as his shoulders shook and the most horrific, but beautiful, crackling kinda guffaw left him.

It was like watching a train wreck.

I couldn’t look away.

“My bussy brings all the boys to the yard—” I sing-songed as Ben died of laughter, still straddling me. “And they’re like—it’s better than yours.”

“Robiiiin,” Ben gasped out, lowering his hands and collapsing onto me. My song died as he smashed me into the couch, muffling his laughter into my neck now. Hesitantly, I reached around him, stroking a hand down the center of his back so I could feel his laughter vibrate through both sides of his body.

“Yeeees?” I replied, burying my nose in his downy, soft hair and trying not to die because I loved him. I loved him, I loved him, I loved him.

And it wasn’t fair.

It wasn’t.

Because I knew myself. Iknewmyself, and I knew the second things got too real—I’d run.

I always ran.

It was simply what I did.

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