Page 65 of Dirty Filthy Boy
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"No. I wanted to come home to you."
"Oh."
"You're in my bed."
"Yeah, I couldn't sleep in mine. I feel safer in yours, even when you're not here. Silly, huh?"
"No. Not silly at all." He tosses his clothes on the floor and slips into bed, naked and hard.
Guilt rears its ugly head. I shouldn't be in his bed. I should tell him I'm moving out. But I can't help myself. I want him with every fiber of my being. I need his warmth, his passion. Whenever I'm with him, I feel safe. Tomorrow will be soon enough to tell him I'm moving out.
It doesn't take long for us to find our way to each other.
