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man. And my hero,” her voice cracks just as I fly down her driveway.
“I’m here,” I skid to a stop an inch from hitting her porch. I charge up the stairs and through the front door to see the bathroom door open. Max comes running with Laney hot on his heels. She runs full sprint behind Max in a cami and sleeper shorts, relief covering her face as tears run down her cheeks. We collide in the hall, and I lift her as she slams her mouth over mine. Gripping her close, I usher them both back in the bathroom and into the tub, our lips never parting.
“Idiot,” she murmurs into my mouth as our tongues duel for dominance. She pulls away, batting a tear from her eyes as I pull her down with me to straddle my lap.
“Stupid ass.” She tugs on my hair, and I see the fire in her eyes as she looks me over in a daze before covering me in her kisses. My temple, my nose, my cheeks, my lips, my throat.
“Worth it,” I grunt, gripping her waist as she turns on my lap, lifting Max out of the tub to the floor before turning her attention back to me.
“So stupid,” she whispers, running her tongue along my lower lip, my neck, before pushing her chest toward me. I bite into the meat of her cleavage as she cups me in my jeans before thrusting her tongue into my mouth. It’s a tight fit, but she manages to get good friction. Rock fucking hard, I massage her thighs, kissing her back with equal fervor before she rips herself away, eyes hooded.
“Total dumbass,” she says, resting her ass on my thighs while unbuttoning my jeans and slowly pulling the zipper down before taking my cock out and pumping it in her fist. “Moron.”
“Are we having a fight?” I ask through clenched teeth.
“Yesss,” she hisses, stroking the tip of my dick, her thumb brushing the pre-cum over the head. I damn near lose my shit when she begins to pump my length, eyeing my cock with hunger. Groaning, I look up to see her eyes flare, the rise and fall of her chest. She’s the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Eyes locked on mine, she rises to position herself pushing her shorts to the side before sinking onto me and surrounding me in tight, wet heat. When she’s fully seated, I see fucking stars. She grinds onto me in slow motion, and I pull off her cami, cupping her perfect tits while I drown in the feel of her.
“You win,” I groan into her mouth just as she comes.
#tubbingoutthetwister #nostormcankeephimaway #inseparable #myhero #hesgotmyback #bestfriendsforlife #livingmyhappiestlife
The rest of the week is drama free. There’s been another shift between us since the day of the tornado. Three people died that day getting swept off the highway in their cars by one of two tornadoes that touched down. I could have very well died that day, a fact that Laney has enjoyed pointing out numerous times. My reply is always to shut her up with swift dick punishment, which she thoroughly enjoys. Last night we had Devin and Chase over for dinner. Laney cooked homemade pasta thanks to a cooking show we binged on Netflix. It was pretty damn good. We both had a lot of firsts this week.
She hosted her first dinner party.
I got to have piano sex.
She learned a few chords on my acoustic.
I mastered sixty-nine.
Some days we left the house and did mundane things, like go to Home Depot for a better shower head. It was totally domestic, and I loved every minute.
In the morning, I cooked breakfast, and my barista made the coffee, laxative-free. At night, I would read with my head in her lap while she played with my hair and watched cooking shows.
We stayed up late, wearing each other out and slept in every day waking each other up in naked and creative ways.
Every once in a while, I’d catch her looking at me, and wordlessly bring her to me for a kiss, because I knew without a doubt, when she looked at me that way, she was with me, and I’d made my place with her.
It was the best week of my life.
Grannism—If a man makes you smile, he’s worth it. If he makes you cry, that’s when you know he’s worth a whole lot more to you.
Laney
Tonight’s the night I confess to my love about how I feel. I’ve been patient. We’ve made it past every major holiday, not to mention Valentine’s, the green beer of St. Patrick’s Day, and Easter. So far, he’s refused to be the first to utter the words. It’s only in the past week that I’ve become obsessed with my confession. With my graduation looming I’m determined to secure my place with him as he has with me, no matter what my future entails. It’s when I was in the shower this morning that I realized what’s been holding him back. He doesn’t want me to feel obligated to return the sentiment.
That has to be it.
And I can’t hold back anymore. There’s no way I can be wrong. This feeling is reciprocal. Even if it’s only been mere months since we got physical, those months have changed everything for me, inside of me.
My gypsy heart no longer beats that beatnik way. It now thrums in a happy and monogamous rhythm, spelling out his name every four beats. Theo’s carefully carved his place in my life and over my heart. It’s etched all over me. At the same time, something tells me he thrives on the anticipation. He’s made me wait for so much already. It’s one of his talents to drive me absolutely bat shit crazy before I get to reap the rewards. But they’ve all been worth it.
He is worth it. While I laid myself bare, he’s been spoon-feeding me pieces of himself. Layer by layer, everything he’s unveiled has only made me fall harder.
A knock at the door has me running toward it, toward him. I open it to see Theo standing at my door, looking edible while holding the largest bouquet of flowers I’ve ever seen. It’s obscene and takes both of his hands to hold it.
