Page 65 of Space Balls: Houston, We Have Liftoff
“First, that’s creepy.” Vance jerks his thigh away, clearing his throat. “And second, what are you talking about?”
Sighing, I lean back against the front of the couch, knowing even without my distracting efforts his game will be over soon. “You really are a newb.”
Vance frowns at the screen, his fingers not hitting the buttons in the correct combination he needs to win this current battle.
“Newb. Newbie,” I clarify. “New to it.”
He turns away from the TV to narrow his eyes at me.
He dies.
I purse my lips in amusement and point to the game.
“Damn it.” His tosses the controller between us.
Laughing, I pick it up and maneuver around to the different screens. “Look. I can see who’s playing if I just go into Options and then scan the social list.”
The V between his brows gets deeper. “But how did you find out my username?”
“Please.” I shove him playfully in the shoulder. “I play with your nephews, remember? And although you made them promise not to tell me that you’ve been practicing, you didn’t say that they couldn’t confirm the name @NASA_starlord on their friends list was you.” I scoff. “But really, it’s not like I didn’t know it was you.” I shake my head at him. “NASA starlord? Really?”
He chuckles at himself. “Better than NASA’s Flashlight.”
“I don’t know.” I drop the controller to the side and lift up on my knees, pulling my skirt out of the way so I can straddle him. “I’ve started to think Flashlight is a great nickname for you.” I kiss him but pull back quickly. “Don’t tell Jules I said that.”
He snorts, his eyes on my waist where his hands are circling. “Easily done. She doesn’t need any more ammunition.” He pauses, tilting his head to the side. “But why do you think Flashlight is such a good nickname?”
Poor guy looks a little hurt.
I grind on his lap. He grunts as his dick hardens beneath me.
“Because of that.”
His hips shift under me, moving with me.
“It’s my very own Maglite.” I lean forward and whisper in his ear. “Thick, heavy, and hard.”
“Jesus.” Vance groans, his head falling back on the couch cushion. His hands dig into my hips as I move over him.
This has become a common occurrence this past week.
Not the sex so much as the company.
When I told Vance I had finals to study for this past week, he said he understood. Honestly, I hadn’t believed him. So when he took it upon himself to come over almost every night after he got off work to bring me dinner, I thought that was code for something else.
But whenever I thought he was making a move, he’d just kiss my forehead in greeting. Most of the time after dinner he’d sprawl out on my sofa to read a book while I studied at the kitchen table.
Hashtag men who read are hot.
The two timesItried to make a move onhim, he left, saying he didn’t want to distract me.
Hashtag what the fuck?
But today is Saturday. My self-appointed day of rest.
And by rest, I mean sex. Lots of sex.
I lean back, bracing myself on his thighs. “Take your shirt off.”
