Page 12 of The Rent Just Went Up

“Well, thank you,” I reply. Should I be thanking her for that? Not really sure, but it seems like the best thing to say in the moment.

“How old are you, by the way?”

“Twenty-nine.” I smile. I see her eyes light up like I just told her she won the lottery. “That’s a good thing, I guess?”

She nods, the tip of her tongue just peeking out from between her teeth. “Oh, yes.”

“I guess it’s true—girls really do like older guys.”

“Well, I can’t speak for all girls, butthisgirl does. And older guys like younger girls, I guess?”

“Well, when they look like you?” I smirk, lean in, and plant a kiss on her lips that are nothing short of perfection.

We both let out sighs of loss as I slide out of her and take a big-spoon position beside her on the couch, cradling her cute little head in my arm. I’m still pretty hard and may stay so if I keep scouring her sexy body with my eyes.

“I don’t want to be that guy,” I tell her. “So why don’t you stay the night?”

Erika instantly shakes her head. “I don’t want to be that girl, sohell no.Drive me home right now.”

She hops to her feet, causing her tits to shake magically, and immediately starts getting dressed. I sit up quickly and extend my palms to her.

“Whoa, whoa, you don’t have to do that. It really doesn’t bother me, Erika.” Does she really feel like she has to get out? Like she’d be a huge inconvenience? She just lost her virginity to me, for God’s sake. “Iwantyou to stay–”

Just as she’s hooking her bra, she stops and glances at me. Her eyes smile first, then her cheeks, then finally her lips, exposing her teeth into the biggest shit-eating grin I’ve seen on her yet.

“Gotcha.” She winks, pointing finger guns right at me.

“Oh, you bitch!” I leap from the couch and snatch her into my arms, her giggling, me laughing, as I carry her into the bedroom and slam the door behind us.

7

Erika

Chris would be so fuckingjealous if he found out about this.

Those are my first thoughts when I wake up in Mal’s bed, staring up at the off-white ceiling, slightly sweaty, with my pussy sore from last night’s activities.

It wasn’tjustmy first time that I’m recovering from either. Oh, no. It was the time again after he carried me into the bedroom, again when I woke up horny in the middle of the night sometime and decided to bethat-girland wake him up with a blowjob that turned into more sex, and again sometime when there was a hint of sun coming in through the curtains when we had spooning-sex where he hung onto my boobs the entire time and kissed my neck, making me feel like I was being fucked by a vampire.

Awesome. All of it was awesome.

No. That’s not a strong enough word. Amazing. Fantastic. Incredible. Wonderful. Marvelous. Awe-inspiring. And to hell with anyone who says Mal is too old for me, or he’s preying on me, or I shouldn’t be with him for whatever intellectual reason they can come up with.

Nature is screaming at me to stop taking my birth control pills so I can have his babies. I’d love to see what I’d look like with a big pregnant belly, and I don’t even know what I want to do with my life yet. I don’t even have my shit together.

Is this love at first sight? Or am I just flooded with endorphins from losing my virginity and having my brains fucked out by a complete Adonis? I don’t know. What Idoknow is that I need some recovery time—some time to think about all this, and Mal probably doesn’t want a clinger hanging around his house all day, so I am going to actually let him drive me home later. The last thing I want to do is potentially screw up what we’ve got going so far.

I glance to my right, expecting to find Mal fast asleep beside me, but all I see is an empty side of the bed and a pillow with an indentation in it. I sit up, and then I hear the noise from downstairs—the sounds of cooking.

I quickly swing my legs out of bed, go into the bathroom, splash some water on my face and do something with my hair so I don’t look like a total scarecrow, then throw my clothes on. I find Mal in the kitchen making eggs, already with a cooked pile of bacon beside him and a stack of toast. He smiles at me as I come in through the door.

“I thought the smell of my incredible cooking might wake you.”

“Oh, you’re Gordon Ramsay now?” I tease.

“Goddamn right I am,” he replies, putting on a British accent that’s actually pretty decent. “And if you don’t get your ass over here right now, little missy, there’s going to be consequences. Serious fucking consequences.”

“Ooh.” I smile, swaying my hips as I make my way over to him as he stirs the eggs. “Mycute littleass, you mean?”

---