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“God, it’s so big,” she breathes.
I smile. “Maybe you’re just small.”
“Bullshit,” she laughs, but the sound is cut off as she gasps with my thrust.
“Why does it always feel so good with you?” she asks. “It’s not fair.” Her words are practically a whimper. Her fingernails are digging into me–heels hooked around me and pulling me close in a way that has to be aggravating her ankle. She’s too damn stubborn to stop, though.
I slip her injured ankle gently out from around me, hooking my arm under her knee and lifting it. A little elevation will help with the swelling, and it also lets me press myself even deeper inside her. We both groan with enjoyment when another inch of me pushes into her warmth. I kiss a path from her shoulder to her lips. “It has to end,” I breathe. “That’s why. It’s sweeter because it’s temporary.
She hesitates, her blue eyes like bottomless pools as she looks up at me. “Does it have to end?”
I press my hips into her a little harder, filling her until I feel her walls stretch to accommodate me. Her lips part and her eyes squeeze shut.
“One way or another,” I say, dodging the question.
“Nolan, I–”
I press my lips to hers and increase my pace. I can feel her trying to break away from the kiss, to say something, maybe–so I reach between us and circle her with my fingers as I move. And then she’s cuming too hard to try to talk, teeth biting down on my lip and her fingers digging into my back until I know they’ll leave marks. Her walls clench around me and her entire body goes taut.
“Fuck,” I groan, grinning with relief as I roll off her. She curls up beside me, head nestled in the crook of my arm.
“Is that ice still on your ankle?” I ask, suddenly thinking about how long I’ve had it on her. “Shit.”
She laughs. “I forgot about it.”
“Me too.” I quickly unwrap the section of bandage I used to keep it in place on her ankle, then check that her skin hasn’t gone too cold. Thankfully, the bandage seemed to do a good job of dulling the cold for her. “Does it feel okay?”
“It feels amazing,” she says, laughing a little. I think we both know she’s not talking about the ankle. Her cheeks and chest are red and she’s still catching her breath.
I smile, setting the ice to the side and wrapping her ankle again. I lay back down and she curls into me again. “Good.”
“Nolan?” she asks.
I don’t answer right away. I sensed her wanting to ask something before. I’m afraid of what it might be. Maybe I’m equal parts afraid she’s going to try to end things and afraid she’s going to ask to make them more concrete.
“Is what we’re doing actually casual? Or are we just calling it that?”
I hesitate. There’s something in her tone I can’t quite pin down. She sounds afraid. But of what, I can’t say. Is she afraid I’ll say ‘yes’? Or is she afraid I’ll say ‘no’?
“Yeah,” I say. “It’s casual. Why wouldn’t it be?”
She nods a little too quickly. “Yeah. Just making sure.”
We lay like that for a minute or two.
“Um, hey,” she says. “Do you mind carrying me to the bathroom? My Grams always said if you don’t pee after sex, you will get another U2 album automatically added to your phone.”
“What?” I ask.
She grins. “Can you just carry me to the bathroom?”
I scoop her up. Her jeans and panties are still bundled around her bad leg. Neither of us wanted to try to yank them down around her swollen ankle or bother unwrapping the ice pack.
“This might be a low point for my dignity,” she says, laughing. She puts both hands between her legs, covering herself.
I set her on the toilet. “Want me to wait outside?” I ask.
“You’re not going to stand there and watch me pee, Nolan. Out.” She points to the door. “But wait right outside the door. You’re gonna have to carry me back to the bed when I’m done.”
