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That’s all I needed for her to tip me over the edge; my balls tighten and I fucking explode inside her, sweaty forehead falling to her shoulder.
I don’t want to let her go, but I have to because, as unbelievable as coming inside of her is, it’s messy and kind of ruins the moment.
“You gonna get me a warm cloth like they do in romance novels?” she teases.
“I can offer you some toilet paper and maybe a wet wipe if I have any.”
Tutting playfully, she awkwardly stands from the bed and waddles toward the bathroom as my cum runs down the inside of her thigh. “I’m going to start making you wear condoms again. You’re getting too big for your boots.”
“Stop telling me I have a big dick if you don’t want me to have a big ego!” I shout after her, smiling at the laughter that comes out of the bathroom.After she’d cleaned herself up, Stassie wanted to get back into bed and cuddle.Who am I to say no to that?
“So what does being your girl entail?” she asks carefully, finger tracing patterns on my chest.
I think about it for a minute, knowing how carefully I need to play this without fucking it all up. “It’s basically everything you already are and do, I just get to call you my girl without fear of scaring you off.”
“And what do I call you? I can’t call you my boy, that’s just weird.”
“You could call me that…or your boyfriend. Or whatever you want, whatever makes your little commitmentphobe heart feel comfortable.”
She’s quiet for a little longer than I’d like.
“It doesn’t matter what you call me, Stassie. Titles don’t matter because I get you regardless. I know I’m a bit full-on and I joke, but I want you to know I’ve never done this before either. I’ve never had a girlfriend and I’ve never committed to anyone. Three months doesn’t seem like a long time, but I’m a guy who knows when he’s sure. I’m sure about you.”
“I’m sure about you too,” she whispers, running her thumb across the cut on my cheek. “I know things have been messy and chaotic, and I’m grateful you’ve stuck with me through it all.”
I scratch at my stubble awkwardly. “I, uh, I think I’ve been to blame for a lot of the mess and the chaos, to be honest, baby. So I’m grateful you’ve stuck with me through it all.”
She’s quiet and pensive, but I just let her, giving her time with her thoughts. I’m starting to doze off when she clears her throat, “I’m ready to hear what’s been said about me. Can we get Henry?”
I’ve been dreading this, which is why I was willing to fool around earlier. She was clearly looking for a distraction, too, but maybe knowing will do her good. “Of course, I’ll go get him. Maybe put some pants on so he can, y’know, cope.”
She hits me softly on the arm and laughs. “I think we’re all underestimating Henry.”
I think she’s right.
THIRTY-THREE | ANASTASIA
ConsideringHenry started a fight with three guys last night, he’s surprisingly chipper, and from what I can see, he doesn’t have a scratch on him.
Henry flounces into the room, shoveling cereal into his mouth, and throws himself at the bottom of the bed. His face twists as he looks between me and Nate. “It smells like sex in here.”
“You’re on thin ice, Turner.” Nate gruffs, climbing back onto the bed beside me.
“You’d think sex would chill you out but apparently not, grumpy,” he mutters, spooning in another mouthful of Lucky Charms.
“I assume you know why I asked Nathan to get you,” I say, interrupting what will most likely escalate into a nonsensical argument.
He puts his now-empty bowl beside him and crosses his legs, leaning back against the bed frame. “I hope it’s not for a threesome because you’re not my type.”
Nate’s head falls back, his hand rubbing his forehead as he stares at the ceiling, groaning. I hope it’s not a migraine, but if anyone is going to induce one today, it’ll be Henry. Nate looks back at him. “Dude.”
“What do you mean I’m not your type?” I hiss.
“You’re too short,” he says bluntly. “You’re like what? Five-three? Five-four? Gotta be five-nine or above to ride.”
A lot of bad stuff has happened recently, and this is by far the absolute worst. I mean, technically I sort of have a boyfriend now, although that word currently makes me feel a little unwell.
“I want to file a complaint. This is discrimination.”
