Page 69 of Just Not That Into Billionaires

She kisses the other side of it and I shove my fingers into her glossy hair.

I think my skin might peel off from sheer desire. “I am going to so...” And then her mouth is over me, finishing this sentence. I’m stroking her head, spinning so hard with pleasure it’s a wonder I can keep standing.

I come with a guttural cry.

She waits for my dick to chill out before pulling her mouth off me, because that’s how physically in tune she is with me.

“That’s one way to punctuate a sentence,” I say.

“Sometimes an exclamation point just won’t do.”

I’m laughing in spite of myself.

She beckons me down next to her, and without thinking, I go, squeezing in next to her on the small couch.

Francine only wants a divorce in the end. The sooner, the better.

Even so, I pull her head to my chest, wrap my arms around her head. I don’t want to let her go, but I don’t need to be face-to-face. I don’t want a divorce, but I don’t trust her in some essential way. I want to be free of the past and that kid that I was, but it’s all around me.

Her scalp is moist with sweat against my pounding heart.

“Are you a cuddler, Benny?” she asks.

“No,” I say.

I can feel the shape of her cheeks change, as if she’s smiling. She doesn’t believe me.

I’m not smiling. I’m looking up at clouds through the skylight, all puffy and fluffy and weightless against that technicolor blue. They look fake.

Fifteen

Francine

I’m still coming backto planet earth, nestled in his arms. We’re cuddling. I don’t care if he wants to believe it’s something else; that’s what we’re doing.

For a while there, I felt so connected to him and his vexatiously cogitating ways. It felt like we were being real together. I loved it. But then the next minute, he was Sexorator 2000, cool and smooth and uber-confident, the sexiest and most confusing being ever to walk the face of the earth.

Even so, it was hot. I’m still vibrating from the things he did to my body. And I pulled him off of it in the end. Sexorator 2000 is awesome, but Benny’s better.

I turn and look up at him. I slide my palm over his cheek. He seems so somber. “What is it?” I ask.

“Nothing,” he says.

He’s not big on introspection—James definitely had his number there. There’s clearly something on his mind, but you can’t pull it out of him. He likes to stay remote.

I’m glad he had a friend like James. There are not a lot of people in this world who can look past that resting annoyance face to see the true beauty of Benny, but James obviously did.

And the fact that Benny’s madly loyal surprises me not at all.

Will he ever find a home for Spencer? Maybe he doesn’t want to let that connection to James go. Maybe he plans to ride out his allergies. There was so much I wanted to ask him but I don’t want to push it and make him shut me out all over again.

“You want a snack?” he asks.

“Does it involve cheese and crackers?”

He’s off the couch, pulling on his clothes. “It does now.”

“Yay!” I say.

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