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Chapter Three
Pronunciation Fails and Detention Bails.
Having Maddy move in had been an adjustment for everyone, but no more so than first thing in the fucking morning when she ran up and down the hallway for no fucking reason, giggling like...well, like a five-year-old first thing in the morning.
I clamped my pillow over my head, but it was no use. It was like my ears were attuned to the pitch of her squeals and they permeated my flimsy barrier.
I flung everything off me and lay spread-eagled on my bed for a moment as I got up the energy to get up. My head rolled to see what the time was.
“Six fucking fifty-three?” I muttered to myself, disbelieving.
I hadn’t been awake that early since I was in junior school. Even since I’d decided to get the bus, I’d only had to roll out of bed by seven forty-five and I’d be fine.
Determined not to let the tiny terrorist win, I closed my eyes and told myself I was going back to sleep. Except, I wasn’t.
I was awake for the day.
“Well, if I’m up anyway…” I murmured to myself.
I grabbed my headphones and my phone, and set about sorting out my morning wood.
I found a video that looked good and reached into my boxers. I wasn’t usually a boxers in bed kind of guy but, when there’s a five-year-old without any sense of personal space or boundaries in the house, a guy has to take some extra precautions.
Taking my shaft in my hand, I stroked long and slow. Timing it to the moaning of the chick in the video.
Usually, I liked to take my time in the morning. Who liked to rush pleasure? Especially when I had plenty of time to take. With nearly an hour before I had to be rolling out of bed, I had all the time in the…
“ROMAN!” I heard mum cry in high-pitched surprise.
I looked up quickly and dropped my phone screen down on the bed. “A little privacy, woman?”
She frowned at me, but I could see she was torn between embarrassment and trying to pretend it was all perfectly normal. Because let’s be honest, it was. While I didn’t make a habit of thinking of my mum like that, if she told me she never did it, I would have been surprised.
“Don’t ‘woman’ me, Roman. I birthed you. I raised you. I should have knocked first.”
She was trying. Always. She only ever tried to do the right thing. By me. By her. By us. I couldn’t begrudge her that.
I nodded and aimed for less abrupt than I felt. “Did you want something? I’ve kinda got my hands full…so to speak.”
For a moment, humour lit her eyes, then she was the mum again. “Right. No. Sorry. Just came in to grab your washing. Didn’t think you’d be…up…” she finished slowly, realising the connotations of that sentence. She pulled her eyes off my face and turned to my washing basket. “Can’t say anything anymore,” she muttered. “Everything’s sexual. So weird. Don’t like it.” She didn’t look at me as she went to the door. “Uh, if you want it, coffee’s in the kitchen. When you’re up– Out of bed! I’m going to shower.”
She hurried out and pulled the door closed behind her.
“Is Uncie Roman awake?” I heard Maddy say.
“Uh,” Mum coughed. “No.”
“But you were just talking to him.”
Mum coughed again. “Yeah. I do that. You should hear the things I say to you when you’re asleep. Come on!” she said loudly, and I heard their footsteps recede.
“Well, that ruined it,” I said to myself, my dick now limp as fuck in my hand.
The inspiration was lacking heavily that morning, so I hauled arse out of bed and got dressed. It was only forty minutes earlier than usual. Plenty of time to mainline some strong caffeine.
Before I went to the kitchen, I sat in my window and had a smoke.
Bad idea.
