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He chuckles, patting the side of the bed next to him. “Babe, I’ve been beatin’ off for eight years.”
I climb onto the bed, settling down next to him under the covers before throwing my towel across the room. “And? Shouldn’t that make you not want to do it, like, ever again?”
Ringer lets out a loud laugh and lifts his arm, pulling me into his side. “It doesn’t take much, especially when I’m eating your pussy. I took care of it. That was about you.”
“Wow.”
“What?”
“I’ve never had that before,” I admit incredulously.
“You’ve never had a man make you come without expecting anything in return?”
“Hell no!”
“Well that’s because you’ve never been with me before,” he shrugs. “But forget I fucking asked that. I really don’t want to hear about every guy you’ve fucked.”
I let out a giggle and snuggle farther into the bed. “If it makes you feel better, there isn’t much to say. There have only been a few.”
“We’re going to keep it that way, yeah?”
My eyes start to feel heavy and I let out a yawn, nodding against his chest. “Sure.”
Ringer kisses my forehead, running his fingers along my arm. “No, not sure, Princess. Yes.”
“Mhm,” I mumble, succumbing to the sleep that was inevitably pulling me into it’s clutches.
eight
Ringer
WatchingLilah in her element is fucking wild.
She runs around this kitchen like she works in it every day, not like she just saw it for the first time yesterday evening.
I drag in all of the non-perishable ingredients we left in the van and watch as she turns a bunch of random shit into ivory-colored icing. She effortlessly whips a four-tier cake together and decorates it in no time like it’s quite literally apiece of fucking cake.
This morning, she asked me to put on a long-sleeved black shirt and black jeans so I will blend in when she needs me to move the damn thing. I looked at her like she had grown two heads. She wants me to be responsible for moving this thing? I mean, sure, it’s an ego boost, but what the fuck happens if I drop it? Looking at it now only makes me more anxious for what’s about to come.
She adds the finishing touches to the top of the cake before taking a step back and smiling at the finished product.
“Done?” I ask. Rounding the counter, I make my way over to stand next to her and drop my arm around her shoulder.
She obliges me by snaking her arm around my waist. “Done,” she agrees.
“Fuck. You really trust me to move this thing?” I rub my free hand on the back of my neck, trying to imagine the logistics of moving this big ass thing to the rolling cart and then again onto the table in the reception hall.
She taps me on the stomach. “Don’t worry, big guy, it’ll be fine. Just remember one thing. Drop it, and I’ll cut your fucking dick off.” The little devil smiles at me like she didn’t just make me imagine her with my bloody dick in one hand and one of her baking knives in the other.
“You’re lucky you’re cute,” I say, tapping my finger against her nose.
Waving the frosting knife in her hand towards me, the side of her mouth quirks upwards. “I’m not fucking cute.”
I shrug. “I think so.”
She hums, spinning to face the door as Sparrow barges through it. My eyebrows rise with surprise as the woman who was always so bubbly and all smiles as a teenager storms into the room like someone lit her ass on fire and pissed in her Cheerios.
“Who pissed in your Cheerios?” Lilah asks, causing my eyes to widen as she says the exact thing I was thinking.
