Page 64 of That's Too Pucking Bad

“Zane!” I cry out as the pressure bursts, sending me spiraling over the edge.

“Oh, fuck, Rem. That’s it!” he groans, following me, his thrusts becoming erratic as he chases his own release.

We both collapse, breathless, and I’m left smiling at the ceiling, still wrapped in the moment.

“Damn,” he mutters, brushing my hair away from my face. “I will never get over this.”

I turn to face him, still tingling from everything that just happened. “We’ll never forget this night.”

He looks at my lips and then deep into my eyes. “I’m serious, though. What the hell have you done to me?”

“Oh, I don’t know. You’re just like obsessed with me or something,” I say with a grin.

He watches me closely, maintaining that deep connected eye contact. “You make it hard to think straight.”

“I don’t want you to think straight,” I say, staring into his eyes.

“It’s not even my choice at this point, I’m fucking hooked. Come here.”

Zane pulls me in, and we both stay quiet. I feel his semen dripping out of me, but I don’t bother to get up because I’m loving this moment. He kisses the top of my head and then we drift off, wrapped up in each other. The world outside fades away, leaving just us in our little cocoon.

I’m still wrapped in a blanket of bliss when the sound of the front door opening jolts me awake. My heart races, and I freeze, wide-eyed. No way. No freaking way.

“Shit, shit, shit!” I whisper, nudging Zane awake. He stirs, blinking sleepily, and I can’t help but notice how cute he looks all disheveled.

“What’s wrong?” he murmurs, trying to sit up, but I push him back down.

“Quiet! My mom’s home!”

He scrambles to cover himself, eyes wide with realization. “What do I do?”

“Get in the closet!” I hiss, pointing to the small space next to my dresser.

“Your closet? Are you serious?”

“Just do it!”

I’m panicking. My heart’s racing, and I’m trembling.

He hops up, quickly yanking on his boxers and sliding inside as quietly as possible. I barely have time to throw a shirtover myself and pull on some sweatpants before my mom’s footsteps echo down the hallway.

“Remy? Are you home?” she calls out, and my stomach twists.

“Yeah, Mom! I’m here!” I say, trying to sound casual.

She comes in, and I plaster on a smile. “Hey! What’s up?”

She looks tired, dark circles under her eyes, and she’s still wearing her work clothes. “Do you have school today?”

“No, I don’t,” I reply, trying to keep it light.

“Lucky you,” she says with a yawn. “I’m so tired. I think I’m heading to bed.”

“Okay. Goodnight, Mom.”

She gives me a quick hug, and I can’t shake the feeling of relief until the door clicks shut behind her. I exhale, letting the tension drain from my shoulders.

I rush over to the closet, and the door creaks open slightly. “You good?” I whisper.

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