She’s still staring at me as I lower myself to kiss her again, but she shifts her head so my lips graze her cheek. “You wanna talk about it?”
I heave out a sigh, and her nipples skim my chest. Fuck. I can’t get enough of this woman. I don’t want her pussy to let go of my cock. Ever. I live here now.
“That’s what I’ve been trying to decide.”
She flexes her muscles around my dick, and it’s my turn to moan. She’s milked every single drop of cum from me, and I’m damn near ready to fill her up all over again. I want to cover her skin, to come all over her stomach. She’s like a sun-kissed blank canvas, and I ache to paint her with my release.
Maybe later. She’s staring at me expectantly. I need to say something before she assumes it wasn’t good for me.
I drag a hand through my hair and lean up, making us both shiver when my cock moves inside her again. “I…don’t know that this is the right time.”
She curls her arms behind my neck and pulls me to her for another kiss. “Tell me anyway.”
“I think I’m falling for you Savannah Jane. I think I’m falling for you hard.”
I feel her lips curve into a smile against my shoulder before she dots three kisses along the space where my neck and shoulder meet. “Good. We can fall togeth—aaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaaagh.”
She bolts off the bed, our foreheads colliding as she sits upright.
Fuck. That’s not quite how I thought that would go.
CHAPTER21
Savannah
Pain rips through my abdomen, and I can’t fight the wail that falls from my lips. I’ve never had trapped gas so bad in my entire life, and I don’t want Justin to be here when it finally breaks free.
“You should go.”
His face morphs from concern, probably that he broke me with his huge dick, to straight up mad. “I’m not leaving you.” He shakes his head.
“But…” I can’t force the words from my mouth. Even the thought of saying the word fart in front of him is making me perspire. “I think it’s just gas.” My voice is barely a whisper, and I want the ground to open up and swallow me. It’s not gas making me feel sick, it’s the mortification of telling Justin I need to let one rip.
Another sharp pain tears through my body, and I roll to my side, tucking my legs as close to my chest as I can.
His warm hand meets my back and rubs in circles like I’m a baby. It’s kind of nice. “Then you should feel better pretty quickly. A couple of farts and you’ll be good as new.” His voice says he doesn’t believe me, but he doesn’t push it. At least not yet. “You want me to get some Pepto?”
“I have Tums in the bathroom.”
The mattress shifts as he stands and circles the bed, grumbling something about my tiny bathroom, and another wave of pain passes through my body. I don’t think this is gas. And once the urge to puke passes again, I’m wondering if I might need to get rid of Justin so I can hit up the Urgent Care a couple blocks from my dorm room.
I must fall back to sleep. Stabbing discomfort in my gut wakes me up, and I curl into as tight a ball as I can. Justin’s back on the bed with me, still rubbing my back, shushing me and telling me that it’s all going to be okay, but it’s time to go see a doctor.
I don’t think I can argue with him.
“Vannah, you’ve been moaning in your sleep for over an hour. I really don’t think this is gas.”
I nod. My skin is clammy. I’m not convinced that I’m safe from puking or crapping my pants in front of this man. If I get to Urgent Care and they tell me I need to go home and fart, I’m going to be so fucking mad.
“As someone who has farted on this earth for almost twenty one years I can safely say, it’s never looked like that. Want me to call your mom?”
I shake my head, clutching my stomach like it might fall out of my body if I don’t press against it.
He helps me sit up in bed, brings me clothes to put on, and when I get light headed from bending down to put my shoes on, he does that for me too. Even in my agony-haze I’m aware of how sweet and amazing Justin is being, and if I wasn’t using all my energy to keep from throwing up, I’d kiss him where he stands…or rather crouches in front of me like Prince Charming putting Cinderella’s glass slipper back on.
When I stand up, the pain gets worse. I want to lie back down on the bed and not move. Moving is bad. Very bad. It’s like I’ve been winded, and as he leads me to the door, with his solid arm banded around me, I’m consciously forcing breath into my body to try to breathe through the pain.
Justin grabs my coat and purse on the way to the door. The level of consideration and attention he pays to me would make me weep if I wasn’t already weeping. I cling to him as we make our way outside. Fuck, it hurts.
