Page 73 of Escaping Our Reality

Lulu’s wearing some other man’s T-shirt.

I sit up straighter. “Whose fraternity T-shirt is that?”

She looks down at her ample chest. “Oh, it’s Caleb’s. He gave Carrie and me a bunch of extra T-shirts from his fraternity. The big ones that were leftover. Those guys all want skinny shirts to show off their muscles. Or lack thereof.”

I shake my head. Over my dead body will she wear another man’s clothes. I don’t care if he is like a brother to her. “Screw that. I’ll be right back.” I jump out of bed, not even bothering with my boots. That’s the good thing about not really having a house. You always have bags packed with clothes.

When I walk back in the bedroom, she’s still standing in the same spot. I toss one of my clean T-shirts from the body shop at her as I jump back on the bed. She smiles and lifts it to her nose, inhaling deeply. “Mmm.”

She stops my cold heart, cracking it open a little more. Damn if her every move doesn’t rip emotions from my locked vault, forcing them into broad daylight.

“I take it you don’t like me wearing another guy’s shirt?”

“Nope.”

She turns to head back into the bathroom to change, but then stops. She looks at the T-shirt in her hand and then her own body. Spinning back around, she lays my shirt on the bed and slowly lifts Caleb’s shirt from her body. Her arms lift high in the air, elongating her torso. She tosses it over her shoulder and stands there for a moment in nothing but her skimpy, light blue panties.

Has anyone ever died from a dick explosion?

Because it’s about to happen to me.

My Lulu may have a perfect little pussy, but her breasts sure are giving it a run for its money. They are large but not too large. Perfect handful size. The creamy skin matches down below. Together, they are three shades lighter than the rest of her bronzed body. Not that I can see her promised land now. But trust me, I have it memorized.

Her nipples are hard and erect, pointing in the air, like beacons of hope. Beacons of light, calling to me. The heavy slope of her breast angles against her torso in the most gorgeous of ways. Her stomach is flat with a slight curve to her love handles and hips, making me want to grab her and bite her.

And then… there’s her legs. My dumbass brother was right. Lulu’s legs are the fantasy of my wet dreams.

She grabs my gifted nightshirt off the bed and slowly slides it over her body. Turning off the lamp on her newfound side of the bed, she climbs onto the plush mattress. Folding her arms underneath her pillow, she stares at me. A small light filters in from the hallway, lighting her profile like an angel.

I’m worthless. I’m ruined for all of eternity.

Mimicking her movement, I lie down on my pillow. We’re so close our breath whispers across each other’s faces. I slowly graze my hand up her thigh, relishing every inch of her smooth velvety skin. My fingers settle against her hip, slowly kneading the plump skin where the curve of her ass starts.

My words are thick. “Go ahead and ask me. I know you want to.

“What?”

“Don’t beat around the bush, Lulu. I like you when you get to the point.”

“Are you gonna have sex with me tonight?”

I can’t believe I’m saying this. “No. Not tonight. You’re not ready.”

“How do you know I’m not ready?”

“Because I’m not ready.”

She gasps at the honesty of my words. And then she leans over and kisses me. She kisses me so intimately that I nearly forget those words because all I want to do is roll her over and slide into her until I’m buried to the hilt.

But I don’t. Because I’mreallynot ready. I don’t know if I’ll ever be ready. Making love to Lulu will end in the complete and total consumption of my soul. I won’t even be a person anymore. I’ll just be a part of Lulu’s DNA.

“Are you really gonna sleep in your blue jeans?”

I look down at my own crotch. It’s like I’m trying to sleep with a sword between the two of us. She immediately giggles and blushes.

“I think my blue jeans are protecting us both tonight.”

She reaches over and tugs the elastic band of the red boxer briefs that peek out from the top of my jeans. It snaps against my abdomen, humming the already sensitive area. I push against her, non-verbally telling her to roll over. She quickly complies, and I pull the thick sheet and down comforter over our bodies.

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