Page 41 of Up In Flames

The thought should worry me, but it doesn’t. Whatever. He’ll take care of me. Us. And actually, I kind of like the idea of having a little red-haired baby. My hand falls to my stomach. Yeah. I could deal with Sampson’s child.

And never mind how fiercely independent I’ve been until this moment, or how I wasn’t sure I’d ever want to be with anyone, let alone have a child with them.

With a small smile, he flips me so I lie spooned back into him on the floor. He’s so strong, he has complete control of my body.

And yes, I find that hot.

“Okay?” he asks me, his voice strained.

“So okay,” I assure him.

Our breaths even out together, but before I slip into oblivion, I touch my stomach again. For right now, I don’t even care that I’ve caught baby fever, the worst STD a guy can give a girl.

I’ll care later. Probably.

CHAPTER 14

Sampson

After our dinner, fuck-a-thon, and rousing session of sixty-nine, we nap for a couple hours before showering together. I’m bent practically double in the normal-size bath, which is annoying. Nina’s entire house is too small for me. I can’t wait to move her into my place, where there’s more room.

Whoa—slow down, buddy. You’ve been together less than twenty-four hours.

Wise advice from my brain. Too bad I don’t buy into it.

Try not to screw this up.

Also good advice. Probably going to fall on deaf ears.

Nina kisses my dick, for once lying fallow against my thigh. He’s had a lot of exercise lately. He needs his rest. “You do really great work, you know that?”

“Can I get your recommendation typed up and signed? Might need to add it to my resume one day.”

“We’ll see. I’ll need to see you in action some more, just to make sure this wasn’t a one off.” But the smile she gives me is sultry enough to make my dick twitch. I can’t imagine how I resisted her all these years. She’s already under my skin like she’s always lived there.

“Just wait, Jelly Bean. I’ve got so much more to show you.” And I wink so that she blushes, which makes me laugh. We spend the next five minutes soaping her up, arousing her, until I use my fingers to make her come again.

Which requires more soaping.

Eventually, while I twist and turn, seeking in vain to wet all my skin, Nina leaves the shower. I’m just about to follow her out when she pokes her head back in the door.

“Don’t rush. I know conditions aren’t ideal. I’ll meet you downstairs. I’m going to clean up the living room.”

We did leave a mess, which is unlike me, and I think unlike her, too. Her house is pristine. The downstairs is pretty. In fact, the whole place is lovely—girlie, but lovely. I like the decoration because it reminds me of Nina’s lighthearted side. I just don’t like the height of the ceilings and walls. Or bath.

When I meander downstairs, my neck and back already developing a crick from hunching over, I find her, dressed in a fluffy white robe, pulling out books from the bookshelf. Mr. Mittens is perched on top of the case, looking down and supervising. Nina holds up a stack of books when she hears me descend.

“I told you that I had something to show you after dinner. It took a while to get past the distractions, but these are it. Unless it’s too late and you want to go to bed?”

“Always.” But the way my dick fails to rise gives lie to my words. Still, I could be convinced with a few more minutes to recuperate.

She rolls her eyes. “To sleep, I meant.”

Oh. “I’m not tired.” Which is the truth. Inside, I’m all riled up, energized by finally being with my boyhood crush, and by what I’m considering with her for the future.

Dorkdom doesn’t die. It just goes deep and hibernates until a guy is old enough to catch the girl of his dreams with something other than his pimples and aspirations to knighthood. Apparently.

“Good. Because I think you’re going to find what I have to show you… interesting. Or… something.” With that discernible pause, she gestures with her chin towards the couch, which is better anyway, since I can fit in the space while seated. Standing creates aches and pains from having to bend, especially along my back, where, contrary to my earlier assertions, I’m not quite as healed as I want to be. There are still twinges. I just ignore them.