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Sophie’s been in my bed many times in the last few weeks, but I’m starting to hate that this is how it ends every time.
“Where are you going?” I ask, reaching my hand out to catch her wrist. She’s too quick.
“Home,” she says. She’s completely naked as she lifts the pillows off the floor to search for her clothes that are buried beneath.
I prop myself up against the headboard to watch her. I crave Sophie’s body like a starving man who can’t get full. My desire for her is endless. But that’s not the only thing that has me wanting to keep her here with me. There’s a warmth in my chest that I get when she’s nearby. I’m starting to crave that feeling, too. A hunger for more.
She doesn’t see me coming when I lunge forward, grab her by the waist and pin her beneath me on the bed.
“What are you doing?” She laughs and playfully pushes at my chest. When her laughter subsides, I stare down at her intently.
“I want more.”
“Oh, I’m sorry, were the two orgasms not enough for you?” She rolls her eyes and shakes her head.
“Not more orgasms. I mean, I wouldn’t object to them, but that’s not what I was referring to.”
Her eyes drop to where I’m tracing her lips with my finger, then back up to mine.
“I don’t like that you run off the second I pull out of you.”
“It’s not the second you pull out,” she argues. “It’s definitely at least three minutes post orgasm.” She laughs. “Besides, I didn’t think secret fuck buddies were supposed to spoon.”
“The good thing about secret fuck buddies is that they can make their own rules.”
“Ah, so, it’s a secret fuck buddy democracy? I always thought it was more of dick-tatorship.”
“Smart ass.” I lower my hand to pinch her ass and she cries out, squirming to get away but unsuccessful as I hold her close.
“Are you sure you have time for cuddling?” She shifts her head toward the bedside table. “Your phone has been buzzing nonstop. It’s a bit distracting.”
With both hands, I reach behind me for the sheet. I pull it up and over our bodies, the air underneath causing a canopy effect. If I move to shut my phone off, she’ll escape, so the goal is to drown out the buzzing she’s referring to. As I pin it over our heads, Sophie’s face lights up.
“My mom used to do that. I’d be lying on my bed and she would pull the sheet up and over me. It was like I was inside a balloon. I loved it. It made me feel safe.”
As the air escapes, the sheet settles over us. I keep the top pinned above our heads, creating that balloon effect Sophie is talking about. I want her to feel safe here with me.
“It’s my favorite memory of her. There was so much uncertainty, so many times I wasn’t sure if she would even be coming home. If she was okay. If she even cared about me. So, those nights she’d tuck me in were rare moments where I felt a connection to her. I felt her love.”
My palm finds her cheek, my thumb swiping at the dampness under her eye.
“I’m sorry, Sophie. No kid should feel like that.”
I try to hold her gaze, but she looks away.
“Griffin had it worse. At least by the time I came along, my mom was trying to get her life together. Failing miserably, but trying. When she died, he put his life on hold to take care of me. I feel like he missed out on so much of his young adulthood. He sacrificed so much, because of me. I wish I could have done more to help.”
“You were ten, Sophie.”
“Yeah,” she bites her lip, her fingers stalling in the hollow of my neck. “Still, I feel like I’ve been selfish. College without too much debt, chasing my dream to New York,” her eyes lift to mine, “you.”
While Sophie is thirteen years my junior, from the moment I met her, there was a confidence about her that was beyond her years. It’s a maturity that she developed growing up as she did, fast by necessity. No matter how much credit she gives to Griffin, she has ultimately been the reason for her drive and success.
I wrap my arm around her waist and pull her into me, her back flush against my front.
“Ahem.” She wiggles her ass against my growing erection.
“Ignore it and it will eventually go away.” Just mentioning my dick has it on high alert. With Sophie’s ass grinding into my crotch, it doesn’t stand a chance. “Maybe. Okay, probably not. Do you want me to put on boxers?”
