Page 78 of Broken Deal

My pussy clenches around him, the orgasm overtaking my body as my legs shake, wanting to give out, but I don’t let them. I stay put as his fingers grip my soft flesh and he starts pounding into me harder and harder. The delicious soundsof our skin clasping together, his grunts, and my cries mix and fill the room, making this moment feel more charged and erratic. There’s nothing sweet about the way Lorenzo is fucking me right now. His moves are sloppy, primal, and desperate—I adore every filthy second of it. He thrusts twice more, and then a groan escapes his lips as he reaches his own orgasm. Once we both catch our breaths a little, he slips out of me and we fall onto the bed. Me, with a satiated sigh. Him, with a small laugh.

“You’re amazing,” he says, dropping a kiss on the side of my head before disposing of the condom in the small trashcan I have next to my bed.

I hum, hitting his shoulder playfully with mine. “Do you remember that night at the club when I told you I wouldn’t give you my number and?—”

He interrupts me. “You said, and I quote”—he clears his throat before trying to do his best impression of my voice—“Unless you were about to ask for a high five for what we did, I don’t see what else you have to say to me.”

I roll my eyes, hitting him on the shoulder. “I hate you.”

“Then you proceeded to give me a 7 out of 10, which I still think you lied, by the way.” He gives me a pointed look.

I thin my lips, holding back a laugh. “I confess… I did lie.”

“Knew it,” he replies with a smug grin. “You can’t fake this type of chemistry.”

“Thisis why I lied. I knew you were going to be so cocky.”

“Come here,” he says gruffly, wrapping his arm around me and yanking me toward him, nipping my shoulder playfully. “It’s not cocky if I’m stating facts, Blue.”

“Get over yourself.”

He tangles our legs together, our bodies flushed against each other. “Never. You like me like this, and you know it.”

I opt not to say anything, because he’s right. I do. I like him just like this. Funny. Unfiltered. Kind.

As we lie there, I rest my head on his chest, both silent now. I wait for the crawly feeling I get every time there’s silence around me. Wait for the hair on the back of my neck to rise in alarm like it always does. But it doesn’t come. All I feel is peace around him, and the thought jars me for a moment before I push it away. For once, I want to allow myself to be normal.

He kisses the top of my head, inhaling. “I gotta go, because I think the carbs are settling in and I’m falling asleep here,” he croaks.

Before I know it, I grip his arm. “Stay over. It’s late, I don’t want you driving around at this time.”

What the fuck are you doing, Sophia? This is not friends-with-benefits territory. You slept with him already. Why are you asking him to stay over?

“Careful, Blue. Otherwise, I’m going to start thinking you like me.”

“Please.” I wave my hand at him dismissively, even though my heart is beating wildly at his comment. Because he has no idea how scared I am, too. In fact, I think it’s already too late. “If you die in a car accident, I’m going to feel guilty. I don’t need that on my conscience, I already have enough problems.”

He looks at me for a beat with a playful smile etched on his face. “If you want to cuddle with me, all you have to do is ask.”

I shoot him an eye roll as I stand from the bed and make my way to the bathroom to begin my bedtime routine. “You’re so full of yourself.”

After taking a quick shower, we both stand in my tiny bathroom, brushing our teeth—him with his fingers, because I don’t have an extra toothbrush. We look at each other through the mirror without saying anything, instead, we grin like two idiots. My heart still beats abnormally fast, something that has become normal every time I’m around him. We look sodomestic, and even knowing that, I don’t feel like running away.

I put on an old oversize hoodie from my college days while Lorenzo goes to find his clothes, only putting on his boxer briefs. For a brief moment, I regret asking him to stay over, because my eyes are shamelessly wandering from his chest down to his torso. I’ve always been so wrapped up around him and in the heat of the moment, I keep forgetting to study his tattoos. Now, I can see how the ink flows from his chest to his shoulders, wrapping around his perfect, muscled back. They all connect somehow, but it’s hard to make out the details in the dim light of my room. He also has some small, random tattoos scattered all over his arms that I’m dying to study more closely.

He slips underneath the comforter, resting an arm behind his head. He brings me closer to him, but I prop my elbow on the bed and rest my head in the palm of my hand, looking at him as my fingertips start tracing a tattoo with roman numerals.

“What does this one mean?” I whisper, tracing the ink with a soft, feathery touch.

He looks down. “My mom’s birthday. I wanted areminder of her. Never met her, because she died giving birth to me.” He mirrors my pose, draping his leg over mine.

The simple touch of his skin against mine sets my body aflame. If I were any other person, I would think this is a sign from the universe. Like there’s a deeper meaning behind every touch he gives me and how much I crave more of it. But destiny is a fairy tale, and this doesn’t mean anything.

I hum. “Was it hard for you? Not getting to know your mom?”

He shrugs. “A little. When I was a kid and I would see every kid I went to school with their moms, I wondered what it would be like. Having a mom, I mean.”

My heart tightens at the sound of his monotone, serious voice. Is this how Lorenzo acts around people? Detached? Like he doesn’t care? It must have been so hard on him. My mom is my life, despite everything, and I don’t know what I would do without her.

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