Page 96 of Arranged Hearts


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“If you say so.” As I take the towel from him, he makes no move to leave. I dry myself and then wrap the towel around my body before I push past him into my room.

I have clothes all over the bed, ones I intend to donate.

“Cleaning spree?” he asks, nodding to the mess.

“How did you get in?”

“Troy let me in. He told me if we fucked, to make it loud enough so he could hear.”

“That’s not going to happen,” I say, though my body hates me for it.

“Which part, the part where you scream or the fucking?”

“Fucking.”

“So maybe I just kiss your pussy goodnight?”

“Joey,” I mutter, turning to look at him. He’s killing me.

“Yes, darling?”

I hate it when he calls me that!

No, I love it.

“Why are you here?” I push the clothes off the bed, climb under the duvet, and lay my head on the pillow, too lazy to get changed. He comes over, lifts the duvet, and, in one swift movement, pulls the towel from me before he tucks me back in.

“I didn’t realize you’re drunk. I’ll stay, and we can talk in the morning.”

“What is there to talk about?”

“Us, and where we go from here.”

“You go home… I go to sleep.” My eyes start to close, and he leans down and kisses my forehead. “You smell good,” I mumble sleepily.

“I know. Now, go to sleep, and tomorrow we’ll talk.”

“But what about dessert?” I ask, pulling down the duvet. His eyes rake over my body. The heat in his gaze makes me instantly wet, and my hands slide downward along my torso. He bites his lip, reaches down, grips my wrist, and guides my fingers into his mouth, where he sucks on them, tasting me. I feel myself almost vibrating with need between my legs as he does. “Joey?” He pulls my fingers from his mouth, places my hand at my side, and pulls the duvet back over me.

“Yes?”

“Cuddle me?”

He nods and removes his own clothing leaving only boxers on before he climbs into my bed, pushing me over just a fraction to make room. His arm wraps around my belly, and he pulls me to him.

“You are considered the nice brother… did you know that?”

“You think I’m nice?” he asks, kissing the top of my head again and then my cheek.

“See, I thought you were a real asshole, and then I realized you get mad at things you care about. You have strong emotions.”

“Do you think I’m nice, Adora?”

“No, but in the best way possible.”

My eyes grow heavy, but I hear him say, “I’m real nice to your pussy. I’ll show you in the morning.”

THIRTY-FOUR

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