Page 62 of Lilies in Autumn

Raising a brow, I question, “Yeah? And what about the voicemail you left because you didn’t want anyone to make small talk when you were early for your algebra class, so you pretended to be in a conversation with my voicemail?”

“Well, that…” She pauses, furrowing her brow and looking fucking adorable. “You know I hate small talk, and everyone always talks about mundane things like the weather or their grade on the last test. It makes me panic because I don’t know what to say.” She scowls as soon as she realizes what she said.

“See, you panic, baby.” I smirk, enjoying her annoyance. “It doesn’t change the fact that it’s real, that it’s fucking true. I love the shit out of you, whether you’re ready to hear it or not.”

“You’re lucky I love you, and your dick, otherwise I would knee you in the balls so hard that you would be searching for your damn testicles for weeks.”

I stare at her, dismissing all of the shit she said about my dick and focusing on the three words she uttered in her sassy comeback. I grab her throat, just below her chin, and use my thumb to tilt her head up. Looking her in the eyes, I growl, “Say that again, vixen.”

“That I want to knee you in the balls?” I squeeze her throat, applying just enough pressure. I’m fucking lucky to find this curvy woman that likes it as rough as I do, despite her inexperience. I’m not above using that shit against her to get what I want.

“You know what I want to hear, brat.”

“Fine, I love you. But don’t make a big deal out of it.” She releases a sigh, almost like this conversation is boring her. The hand at her throat itches to spank her ass for that response.

“Oh, I’m making it a big fucking thing, vixen. And for that little response, I’m turning your ass red before I sink back into that hot little cunt. But that can wait.” I release my grip on her neck and slide off the bed. Reaching down, I grab Ava bridal style and walk into the bathroom. “First, we’re going to shower the cheap beer off this beautiful body, then I’m going to eat this sweet pussy until you’re screaming my name again. After, I’m going to spank your ass raw before I fuck you from behind and come on that pink asshole. Sound good, vixen?”

She nods her head, eyes wide and hungry as she stares up at me. “Good. And vixen,” I pause, leaning down to bite her jawline. “I know your cunt is sore, so if it’s too much, fucking tell me. I’m trusting you to know your limits.

I don’t give her a chance to respond before I turn the water to hot and step inside the two-person shower.

Ava

Three things hit me the moment that I wake up:

One, my vagina physically hurts from the number of times Grey and I had sex last night. Like, on a scale of one to “I need ibuprofen and a massage,” I fall on the end of the spectrum.

Two, my back is sticky and adheres to the sheets thanks to our final round. After spanking me until I nearly came from the licks of pain, Grey took me from behind and drove me into the mattress. He pulled out and came all over my back, marking me like property. I tried to get up and wash it off in the bathroom, but he growled that he liked how his cum looked on me and convinced me to sleep with it soaking into my skin. I regret that choice now because I’m human Scotch tape; the sheet is quite literally stuck to my back by sperm and sweat.

And finally, three, Grey’s side of the bed is empty except for a single calla lily. A few weeks ago, Grey and I played twenty questions and asked each other a string of random questions. I asked him everything from his shoe size to how he drinks his coffee. One of the first questions Grey asked me was about my favorite flower: white calla lilies.

I pick up the stem, close my eyes, and inhale, smiling to myself that he remembered something so innocuous. Soft footsteps sound to the side of the bed and I open my eyes, meeting Grey’s dark blue ones. “Good morning, vixen,” Grey mumbles and leans down to kiss me, morning breath a nonconcern.

“Good morning, handsome. What’s this?” I hold up the stem.

“Something for your birthday. Now, come eat, I made breakfast.” He pulls the top sheet and comforter back, exposing my bare, semen-drenched skin. “Damn, that’s a nice fucking sight to wake up to in the morning. We need to do that more often.”

“What, come on me like a dog marking its territory?”

“No, waking up together, you brat. Though, I can’t say I mind the look of my jizz all over your curvy body.”

I roll my eyes. “Whatever. I need to get dressed, but I need a shower first because I’m sticky.”

Moving quickly, he pins me down, holding his front against my back to prevent any movement. “Keep it on, vixen. I like knowing that I’m still on you and still in you. Your sister is on her way over with Linc for breakfast. Put on one of my shirts and get that sweet ass out of bed before they get here.”

Grumbling to myself, I slip on an oversize Rockies T-shirt with “Jansen 09” on the back. If it’s weird that I’m wearing his father’s baseball shirt with his cum on my back, I’m trying to ignore it. Even though I’m on the curvier side and can fill a T-shirt out indecently, the size and length of this one is so enormous that it comes just above my knees and hangs loosely from my shoulders. Slipping into the bathroom to brush my teeth and relieve my bladder, I do my business and then pull my hair into a messy bun on top of my head.

Looking at myself in the mirror, I can’t help but think that I look like I’ve been thoroughly fucked.

I find Grey in the kitchen, leaning over a skillet and flipping pancakes like a short-order cook in a diner. His aunt must have taught him well because my brother can barely pour a bowl of cereal without messing it up.

“Impressive spread here, chef. Do you need help with anything?” I take stock of the cut fruit, a pitcher of orange juice, and scrambled eggs already plated family-style on the island. If I didn’t confess that I loved him last night, I would probably be unable to hold it in after this treatment.

Without taking his eyes from the griddle, he responds, “No, take a seat on one of the stools and get comfortable. I’m almost done.” Flicking off the burner, he scoops the pancakes onto the stacks plated next to him and brings them to the island. Holding the plate out to me, he gestures for me to take one.

“Oh, no. They look delicious, but I’ll stick to eggs and fruit. Thank you for making all of this.”

He raises a quizzical brow at me. “Ava, you love pancakes; they’re your favorite breakfast food.” Damn him and damn twenty questions.

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