Page 9 of The Sweetest Chirp

I’m not his. But then…what if I am?

I want to be.

When I asked why it bothered him so badly, he just said it did and not to do it again. I almost fought him on it, but I didn’t want to hurt him again. Sleeping with Dart had done that.

I had created a whole narrative in my head of him being hopelessly in love with me like I am with him. It’s come time to find out if I’m right.

Like it says in the song “Electric Love” by BØRNS, I feel like lightning trapped in a bottle when I’m around him. My whole body is tingling, my heart thundering in my chest, and my hands shake as I hold my phone up in front of us. I lean it against one of his full beer bottles—since he grabs two at a time, so he doesn’t have to stop playing. We’re sitting on the couch. He’s playing his game while I watch and suggest where he can hide, while I crochet. It’s our lazy Sunday that’s about to catch on fire in seconds if the story I’ve made up in my head is true.

I tap his hard thigh. He’s wearing short shorts since his leg is in a brace, and he hates how hot he gets when he wears pants. He broke his kneecap and is out for the rest of the season. He’s been quite a dick about it, which could play into why he was so mad about Dart and me. Hmm… Maybe I shouldn’t do this?

Before I can lose my lady balls, I say, “Hey, look at the camera. I want to send our moms a video.”

He knocks off his headset. “Of me with a busted knee and you crocheting another blanket?”

I send him a wide grin. “Yes, exactly.”

He rolls his eyes but leans in when I hit play. “Electric Love” fills the space between us, and I watch as his brows draw in. I mouth the words, being goofy, but beside me, he’s watching the screen intently. It’s almost like he knows what I am doing, but he doesn’t have TikTok. He doesn’t know this trend; he can’t. I turn before the crescendo of the song kicks off, the moment when you’re supposed to kiss your best friend. He turns too, his heated gaze meeting mine. Flecks of green swirl around his blown-out pupils, leaving me breathless.

I’m unsure who kisses whom first.

One second, I’m lost in his eyes, and then I watch as he reaches up to turn his cap backward.

Holy hot fuck.

But I can’t even fully process his sexy man motion before his lips are on mine. He cups my jaw as he holds me where he wants me and devours my lips. I have kissed many boys in my twenty-five years, but nothing could have prepared me for Thatcher’s lips. They’re soft but demanding, leading the butterflies in my belly to soar to full flight. He cups my neck with his other hand as his tongue slides along my lips, and I open greedily for him. His taste is one I wasn’t prepared for. It’s not only beer but mint and him. Thatcher. I moan into his mouth, and his grip tightens at my neck and jaw. The song has ended, but I refuse to do anything but kiss the man I have wanted my whole damn life.

Again, I know that’s a silly thought. But I’m pretty sure when they put us in our cribs in the nursery when we were born, they put us beside each other because we each needed the other. I have a very active imagination, if you can’t tell.

I slide my hands up his neck, threading my fingers into his hair at the back of his neck before knocking his cap off. It tumbles beside us, but it doesn’t break our kiss. No, I don’t think anything can. He lets go of my neck to snake his arm around my waist before pulling me into his lap. I straddle him, our lips still not parting as my center comes to settle against the very hard length of his cock.

Well, damn.

I let out a little mewl of a noise before I move myself over every inch of him. He hisses against my lips, breaking our kiss as our eyes meet in an inferno of desire. I should say something, he should, but neither of us utters a word. Instead, I feel my heart race as he stops the video I was recording on my phone then reaches for my shirt, pulling it off with ease. He tosses it to the side, pulling down the cup of my bra and covering my sensitive nipple with his hot mouth. I let my head fall back as I moan loudly, his fingers digging into my ass as he grindshimself against my center. It all feels so out of this world, and nothing like what I imagined being with Thatcher would be like.

It’s more.

So much more.

I cry out when he takes the waistband of my sleep shorts and tears them without a second thought. My panties are next as I let out another meep, and then he throws the remnants of my shorts and panties to the floor.

Again, holy hot fuck.

He slaps my ass, the sting making me hiss before his heated eyes meet mine. “Stand up,” he demands. And listen, this dude could tell me to do a handstand as I suck his cock, and I would.

I use his shoulders to brace myself as I stand, my breathing a mess as my feet hit the floor. He smacks my ass again. “Come closer.” I do as he says, while he positions his knees between my legs before he leans forward and runs his nose down the little strip of hair leading to my pussy. He groans loudly, his body vibrating as he presses a kiss to my mound. “Do you know how long I’ve wanted to eat this pussy?”

He looks up at me as his fingers bite into my ass. His eyes are so dark, more black than their usual chocolate brown. Words elude me, and I can only shake my head. A wolfish grin moves across his lips before he squeezes my ass once more. “So long, I might bust a nut when I finally taste you.” I whimper as he runs his nose along my pussy before he meets my gaze once more. “But that’s not going to stop me from getting my fill.”

That’s the last thing he says before he runs his tongue up my slit, swirling the tip around my clit as I cry out, arching into his mouth. He moans deeply in his chest before he starts to French kiss my pussy with a need I didn’t know he felt. I suspected, but no amount of creativity prepared me for his mouth. He moves from my clit to my entrance, sucking, licking, playing until I’man utter mess, screaming his name as if it’s what I’m paid to do. When he pushes two thick fingers into my entrance, I cry out as my body explodes. I feel as if I’m flying, his mouth still sucking my clit as he fucks me ruthlessly with his big fingers. I jerk against his mouth, and he chuckles lightly against my heated flesh.

“Look at you, coming all over my fingers. Butdushen’ka, you’re about to take this cock, and that’s a sight I need more than my next breath.”

My legs are shaking, and when he pulls his fingers out of me, I instantly fall onto his good knee, thankful it’s able to catch me and keep me from hitting the floor. He takes me by the back of my neck, dragging me to straddle his hips before he captures my mouth in a lusty kiss that has my body revving up for more. He trails his mouth along my jaw, and I’m gasping for breath.

“Thatcher,” I moan as he sucks along my collarbone and down to my chest.

“I got you,dushen’ka. I promise,” he says against my skin as he pulls his shirt off, throwing it to the side. He’s all muscles and thick black ink. A sheen of sweat covers the butterfly at the base of his throat that he got because I was too scared to get a tattoo at the time. He has snakes, skulls, and random words along his chest, but I know these tattoos, and I was there when he got each one. Even so, processing the beauty of them is beyond me at this moment.

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