But with Stacey in only her underwear, straddling me in my bed, her pupils dilated and a flush to her skin, I want to sink my cock into her deep enough that I’ll never get it back out.
We’re kissing again, and I gain some confidence in letting my hands explore her nearly naked body. From her bare ass to gripping her back, to rolling her nipples and pinching as she whimpers my name.
She moans into my mouth when I pinch harder, my lipstravellingdown her throat so I can suck on her pulse, which hammers against my tongue. I want to keep going, to take her nipple between my teeth, but I go back to her mouth instead.
She whimpers as I pull her hair, flipping us again so I’m between her legs.
“We’re never going to watch this fucking movie.”
“What was it called again?” she jokes, smiling as I nip at her jaw and move hair from her face.
I drop to her side, lacing one hand with hers while the other twirls a strand of black hair around my finger. “You said you’d be a good girl.”
When Itextedher drunk the other night, she said I had to take her for a McDonald’s every week now that I had alicence, and I said only if she was a good girl.
Her response?
I’m always a good girl,Kade.
I nearly died.
She fake gasps. “Am I being a bad girl?”
Inwardly, I groan as I look down at her body, clad now only in her panties. “Very.”
“Then you better put the movie on.” Stacey bites my knuckles playfully before – sadly – putting my top back on. “Or I’ll go watch it withLuciellainstead.”
“Lie. She’d never willingly watch it.”
Stacey cuddles into my side, and I wrap my arm around her shoulders. The movie starts, and we both focus our attention on it, quiet unless she’s asking me questions about it. She smiles a lot. Her eyes go wide a lot. She tightens her fingers around mine a lot.
It feels nice.
I feel her sink into my embrace as the opera singer starts. I don’t watch the TV screen; I’m staring at her. Her eyes are fixed on the movie; she’s hanging on to each word, each lyric that belts from the redhead’s lips.
“Why is this sad?” she asks with a trembling chin. “His wife can see the way he’s reacting. I want to hug her.”
“I know.”
“But the song is soheartbreakinglybeautiful.”
“I know.”
We watch the rest of the movie, and by the time the credits come up, we’re both yawning, legs tangled together, her wild hair in my face.
“I loved that,” she says with another yawn. “We need to watch it again.”
“Whenever you want.”
I’m seconds from falling asleep. I’ve never shared a bed with anyone. Even when I was a kid andLuciellagot scared of the dark, I slept on her floor until she calmed.
The thought of sleeping next to someone has never occurred to me. I never wanted to. Never even imagined it. Yet, with Stacey buried into my side, her knee hiked over me, I would happily close my eyes and fall asleep. I hold her thigh, my nose in her hair, and I don’t bother asking if she’s staying.
Jason is right – I do like her. Is that weird, considering I’ve only kissed her a handful of times? Is there atimelinefor feelings and all that emotional bullshit?
She doesn’t know it yet, but she’s kind of stuck with me. I can’t say that aloud without her running for the hills, but the fact that I’ve never once looked at another girl with interest or thought of them as beautiful until I saw her speaks volumes.
But I have no idea what to do with her.