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“You gonna help me pack my shit back home?”
Her eyes scan mine. “You haven’t changed your mind?”
“You still have a year of school. Two weeks is long enough. And honestly, if I found a job here making what I make, I’d probably quit my fucking job too.”
She finally smiles. “Don’t tempt me with a good time. I’ll start looking.”
I kiss her. “Go ahead. I’ll even email you my resume.”
“Moving across the country is pretty serious for a relationship. You sure you’re not going to change your mind and want to break up when I’m acting seventeen?”
I laugh. “Only a little while longer and you’ll be eighteen.”
“Then this thing between us won’t be scandalous anymore.”
“This thing between us is permanent. You made the cut; you’re stuck with the part. I’d rather you be legal. Your age is a gray area for me depending on state law, and I just turned twenty-five. I’m glad your parents aren’t assholes.”
She’s hiding a smile. “Growing a conscience, are you?”
She never gets old, never gets on my nerves. “Maybe. So you going to help me pack or what?”
“Under one condition.”
My brows come together. “What’s that?”
“Don’t give up your music.”
“I don’t know what’s going to happen with that. I stopped caring when our chance passed us by.”
“Well, I do. You’re going to make it, and I’m going to get a shirt that says ‘band bitch, property of the bassist’.”
I’ll humor her, because it’s hard not to smile, and it’s not a bad visual. “Be careful what you wish for. If I go, you’re going.”
I can see teeth from her smile being big. “You love me like that, huh?”
“And then some.”
My emotions are amplifying again—too much talk of change and love and shit. I was never as open about my feelings as Riggan and Maddox. I need a shutoff valve. The only way I know how to do that is to fuck.
I press my mouth to hers, already coming over her to put her on her back. Her tongue meets mine, her hands skimming up my front as her breathing picks up and her legs come around my waist. When she’s turned on, her verbal cues are sounds that drive me crazy.
I roll my pelvis between her legs, rubbing my shaft against her lips. She moans into my mouth, her hands already slipping under the band of my boxer briefs. I pull back on my knees and sit back on my heels, grabbing the fabric of her sleep shorts and underwear together, working them down her legs with my eyes locked on hers until they’re off.
I can feel goose bumps rise on her inner thighs as my hands run up them, toward her center. She starts wiggling against the bed when my fingers run over her lip, hitting the split. The tip gets wet when I reach her pussy. I slip it in her warm heat, my dick hard and ready, diving in and out of the wet a few times before adding two. “Take your shirt off,” I order as I finger fuck her.
I lean in when she tosses it off the bed, sucking a nipple into my mouth. Her back arches. “That feels good.”
I kiss up her chest, making it to her mouth, purposefully submerging my fingers and stopping. She starts grinding against my hand, bumping my fingers from wall to wall. “You know what would feel better?”
“Your dick,” the smartass says.
“I’m gonna lick it, suck it, fuck it with my tongue. You’re going to wet my face.”
“You dirty talk like no other,” she responds on a labored breath.
I start thrusting again. “No other being the key phrase there. Mine. Yesterday, today, and tomorrow. You gave it to me. I’m keeping it.”
She grabs the back of my neck and pulls me in. “I love when you’re territorial.”
