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We can’t kiss because the pounding is too vigorous. All I can do is hold on while he goes ballistic. It’s awesome. I come twice and bite the shit out of his shoulder. We’re rocking the bed so much my suitcase falls to the floor with a loud crash.
Randy slows down with the knock on my door. “Everything okay in there?” It’s Tim-Tom. I guess he’s out of the shower.
“It’s fine. I dropped my suitcase!” I call.
Randy’s face is buried in my neck, and his shoulders are shaking.
“Need any help?”
“Nope. I’m good! Thanks, Tim!”
“Okay. I’m going to work. See ya later.”
Randy circles his hips, slow and tight, while we wait for Tim to leave, but even after the door closes he doesn’t go back to the vigorous, intense pounding. Instead he stays close and kisses me deep. When he comes, it’s like he’s trying to climb inside my body and stay there forever.
I run my hand down his back, smiling at the shiver I create. Randy lifts his head from the crook of my neck, eyes soft and warm. “That was a lot of fun.”
I laugh and touch his lips, brushing over the scar. “It sure was. We should do it again.”EpilogueCouch ConfessionsLILYThree months laterI drop down on Randy’s couch and throw my legs over his lap, cradling my snack bowl.
He leans over and peers inside. “What the hell are these? Why’re they red?”
“They’re ketchup chips.”
Randy makes a face. “Ketchup?”
My mom sent them in a care package. I love living in Chicago, but there are a few things I miss about Canada. Ketchup chips are one of them, my mom is another, and maple-flavored bacon completes the list.
I pop one in my mouth and make a sound similar to the one I make when Randy’s face or fingers or incredibly amazing cock is between my legs. “They’re so good.”
He stares at my mouth, watching while I chew. I swallow, then take a sip from the glass of cider he’s poured for me. It’s my favorite kind—not too sweet, with the perfect level of dryness. As soon as I put my glass down, he lifts the bowl out of my hand, sets it on the coffee table, and tackles me, taking me down to the cushions.
He’s got some serious skills with the way he’s able to get his knee between my legs without me even realizing it until I start auto-humping. He cups the back of my head, his fingers pressing in. I don’t know why it makes me so hot; it’s like he’s holding on so I can’t get away from his mouth. Not that I’d want to.
He presses his lips to mine, sniffing. He backs off, giving me the funky eye. Then he goes in for another kiss, a little longer this time. He sucks my lip, running his tongue along it, and pulls back again.
“Ketchup?” he says.
“They’re the best.”
Randy resumes kissing me, and this time he slips his tongue into my mouth. After a few seconds of exploration, he breaks the kiss and shakes his head. “Nope. I don’t like it. You need to brush your teeth. That tastes like shit.”
He’s still got a knee between my leg, and he’s kind of thrusting against my pelvis. I can feel his hard-on. He can’t be all that negatively affected by my bad breath.
“Just try one.” I reach over and pluck a chip from the bowl, bringing it to his mouth.
He leans in and sniffs again, his nose wrinkling.
“Eat it.”
“I’d rather eat you.”
“Pretty sure ketchup-chip breath is better than vagina breath.”
“That’s debatable. I love the way your pussy tastes.”
“Like I’m made of maple?”
“Exactly.”
“Open your mouth.” I press the chip against his bottom lip, but he keeps it closed. I keep pushing until the chip breaks and crumbles in his beard and onto my chest. A few crumbs tumble into the V of my shirt.
“Oh! Look at that. Your shirt’s dirty now; it needs to go in the laundry.” He shoves his hand under my top and pulls it over my head. I’m braless, as is normal when I’m at home—his or mine.
“I thought we were going to watch a movie.”
“We could make our own.” He waggles his brows, his grin devious. “I need a new one for next week.”
Randy leaves in the morning for a series of away games. He’ll be gone for ten days. It’ll be our longest separation since I moved to Chicago. We spend most of our free time together. It’s almost a good thing he has to travel; otherwise I feel like we’d be immersed in just each other, all the time. This way I get to hang with Sunny, Violet, and Charlene.
Randy pulls his shirt over his head so we’re matching in our level of nakedness. Then he settles between my legs. Instead of tongue wars, he brushes his lips softly over mine. “When I get back from this series, I want to talk about you moving in.”
