Page 116 of College-Virgin & Dark Bully Next-Door

Ashton

After another two rounds of mind-blowing sex, Sky falls asleep in my arms. I kiss the top of her head and keep her close. I know she has to be home before sunrise, but I’m keeping her until I absolutely have to give her up.

Even one week without her is too long. How the hell am I going to survive a month, two? I draw back to watch her, and she squirms, getting closer to me and irritating at least four of my bruises. I grit my teeth to avoid grunting out loud and then settle back against her.

“We can’t do a real sleepover, baby,” I whisper in her ear, even though she’s asleep. “It would make me too greedy. I wouldn’t want to wake up alone again.”

She hums softly in her throat and clutches me closer, nails scraping over my skin. It’s true, but I also can’t imagine being with another woman now. Sky’s given me just about everything – at least in bed – and I still want more.

Despite our fighting, our differences, the shit we’ve been through, I want to stay with her. I want to hold her. I want to hear about her day … every day. I want to know every detail about her life, everything she thinks. And if that means waiting to be told yes, if it means talking about how her silence makes me feel, even if it means revealing how insecure I am, I’m willing to do it. In person, long distance, whatever. As long as I have her.

Brushing her hair away from her face, I kiss across her temple and cheek. She grumbles. “No more. Go to bed, Bunny.”

I tip her chin up and kiss her softly. “I thought you didn’t want to get grounded.”

She jumps up, eyes wild but obviously exhausted. She looks around and shakes her head. “I have to get home. Oh, my god.”

I laugh and watch her pick up her things while laying on my belly. She’s so damn cute. Once she has her jeans on with my shirt and slides into her flipflops, she kisses me, then stops at the door.

“What time is it?”

“After three in the morning, baby.” I drag myself up. “I’ll walk you out and make sure you get home safe.”

I drag on pajama pants and lead Sky to the front door. She turns and kisses me softly. “I don’t hate you.”

“I know.” I tap her nose. “My dick is clearly the answer.”

She huffs, but I catch her and pull her back. “I love you, Sky. So much, that I’m not going to insist on following you to your room and sleeping in bed with you.”

Calming, she kisses me again. “My boyfriend has impulse control. Who would have guessed?”

“See you tomorrow?”

“Yes. I can’t be trapped with my family without some backup.” She kisses my neck. “As long as you can move, that is.”

“Oh yeah, and explain every one of the marks you left with my recent fight, right?” I wink. “Suddenly biting is allowed in boxing.”

She shoves me, but I watch her get inside her own house before going back to bed. I find that she left her jacket and wrap it around one of my pillows before cuddling close, breathing in her perfume as I fall asleep.

When my door is practically kicked open, I groan and look up to see my brother. “Get up, dickweed. It’s after noon.”

I pull the pillow from under my head and throw it at him. “Shut up.”

“If you weren’t so busy fucking all night, you wouldn’t be tired,” he snorts.

I get up, ready to go after him, but he slams the door shut behind him, and I shake my head. I’m too sore anyway. My arms ache, my thighs, my back, my whole body feels like it’s cramping off and on. I sit back on my bed and see my door open slightly.

“One more thing,” Peter says. I arch an eyebrow. “Bitch.”

I grab for the door and chase my brother downstairs, ready to beat his ass for ruining my morning, but once I get him in a headlock, my parents come in. I blink at them stupidly, then release Peter just to flick him off.

“Get dressed, Ashton. No one needs to see all this.”

I look down at myself and see a bite mark on my lower abdomen, just above my pants that can’t be explained with the story of a punch when just about each of the teeth are outlined. I need to talk to Sky about how hard she fucking bites.

“We’ve been invited to join the Bennetts at a Fourth of July cook out and we’re taking them out on the boat,” he says sharply. “Let’s go. Get ready for the day.”

I grumble about it being abreakday but get through a shower, drag on some swimming trunks and a tank top before looking at my bruised-up face. I shrug. Life of a boxer. Sunglasses hide the worst of it anyway.

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