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After a couple of minutes, I got hot, so I slipped the shirt over my head. My breasts bounced as Troy reached up to squeeze them.
“I’ve missed these beautiful tits.” He groaned.
As I swayed my hips over him, I felt his balls at my ass. I gripped the hard muscles of his chest and dug my nails into his skin, the pleasure of him so deep inside me almost too much to bear. Troy began to thrust his hips upward to meet my movements, and he kept his gaze fixed on me. Then he pushed even deeper inside of me. My clit pressed harder against him, and I suddenly felt my orgasm ricochet through my body.
“I’m coming,” I gasped.
“Yes, I know.” He smiled. “I can feel it.”
This was the first time I’d lost control before he did.
He shut his eyes tightly as his mouth dropped open. His body shook under me as we came together.
Wow.
Every time with Troy was better than the last.
Utterly sated, I collapsed onto him. He kissed my head softly. I almost wished he didn’t do stuff like that, because whenever he was gentle with me, it made me want…more. And I knew I couldn’t set that expectation.
He slipped out from under me to discard the condom before returning to the bed. He pulled me back over to lie on top of him again. Resting my head on his chest, I felt his heartbeat thundering against my cheek. I didn’t want to leave. I had no idea whether he planned to take me home or what, but I knew I was happy here. And I wanted to stay the night. But I wasn’t going to be the first person to suggest that.
A minute later, I felt something heavy land on my back. I flinched, and it took me a bit to realize it was Patrick.
“Shit. I’m sorry,” Troy said. “I’ll get him off.”
“No.” I laughed. “It’s okay. He can stay.”
“You’re okay with him on your back? He might never get up, you know.”
“Yeah, it’s fine. It kind of feels…nice. The purring vibration. He’s sort of like a weighted blanket.”
He flashed a beautiful smile, and that was the last thing I remembered as I drifted off to sleep—on top of Troy with a cat on my back. Kind of an odd threesome, if you ask me.
• • •
The following day, after we’d finally rolled out of bed after all the sex we had again this morning, Troy and I went out for a nice breakfast in Meadowbrook Center. While we waited for our food, he showed me some photos his dad had sent from Europe. I vowed to save enough money to take my own trip overseas someday. Staying in Meadowbrook was one thing, but never getting to experience the world at all wasn’t an option.
The cool September breeze was a welcome addition to our outdoor meal. It really didn’t get any better than this.
After breakfast, he came back to my place, and we chilled for a bit in my yard. It was the epitome of a lazy Saturday. Neither one of us acknowledged that all this time we were spending together was a clear violation of the sex-with-no-strings precedent we’d discussed early on. And I certainly wasn’t going to acknowledge that the way Troy looked at me all day today made my heart do crazy stuff.
At one point, I left the yard to go inside and make us coffees. Even though I’d told him to wait outside, Troy must have gotten antsy because he soon joined me in the kitchen.
He placed my phone next to me on the counter. “You got a message.”
“I did?”
“Your phone lit up outside. I looked over at it because I thought it was mine. We have the same notification sound, apparently. You got a message through the app.”
He was referring to the dating app. My stomach sank as I looked down and saw a message from a guy I’d chatted with earlier this week.
Sorry for the delay in responding. I was offline to take care of some family stuff. Would you want to meet up for drinks tonight?
Shit. I’d gotten a message this past Thursday from a guy I’d matched with before Troy and I first hooked up. I’d casually responded, though I had no intention of meeting up with him now. But I could understand how this looked—like I was actively pursuing someone else. Not that Troy and I had any kind of formal exclusivity agreement, but it was still sucky that he had to see this, especially when it didn’t mean anything. I’d just responded to the guy so as not to be rude.
His tone was bitter. “Maybe you should meet him.”
“I don’t want to meet him.”
“But you were chatting with him. Why would you be chatting with him if you didn’t intend to meet him?” His nostrils flared. “What’s the point?”
