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“Okay.”
“But first, I want you to fuck me.” Then I was lifted to straddle him, the angle making me moan. “Ride.” He slapped my ass, and I ground down.
Then I rode him. I started slow, but it built quickly, and the only reason I didn’t fall off his dick when I came was because he was holding me down, making sure my clit was rubbing against his crisp hair as my orgasm tore me apart.
When it was his turn, he flipped me to my hands and knees, and fucked me. I’d never had sex like that. It was out of control, intense, so fucking hot that I nearly blacked out. He growled as he came, his fingers digging in painfully, but it hurt so good that I hoped they’d leave bruises.
“Christ, Paris.” He panted, releasing me as he slid out and rolled me to my back. “Are you okay?”
“Never better.” I repeated his words.
He stared down at me, sweat glistening on his skin, chest heaving with his breaths, damp hair falling in his eyes. And then he tossed his head back and laughed.
God, he was always handsome. But like this, happy and sated, he was breathtaking. I was just about to tell him how hot I thought he was when he suddenly went serious, and his attention went to the door. “Shit,” he cursed softly, and when it was quiet, I heard the knocking.
“What’s wrong?” I panicked, not knowing how someone got past the main door.
“My parents are here.” He got out of bed and ran to the bathroom, cupping his dick and balls. If I wasn’t freaked out, I’d have laughed. The sink water turned on, and a minute later, he rushed back in and tossed a warm washcloth at me. “Sorry, baby, but they won’t leave until they see me. You’re gonna have to get dressed and meet me out there.”
I crawled backward until I hit the headboard and pulled the sheet to my chin, shaking my head as reality set in. His mother, the one he protected and loved like crazy, was here. She wouldn’t like me, I knew she wouldn’t. Then she’d tell Scotty and he’d cut me loose and I didn’t want that yet. Preferably not ever. “No. I can’t.”
“You can.” He reached past me and grabbed his navy-blue boxer briefs that were hanging off the edge of the nightstand. “I’m gonna get them into my place, then I want you to come over there when you’re ready.”
“No, Scotty… I…” I dug my nails into his arm, not really sure if I believed my reason for freaking out. His mother would want him happy, and if I made him happy, then maybe she’d like me. But I wasn’t ready. “I can’t.”
He pulled his shirt on, tugged his jeans up his long, muscular legs, then cupped my face. “We’ll talk about why you think you can’t later. As soon as my mother sees me come out of your apartment, she won’t leave until she meets you. And before you worry, she’ll love you.”
“Why do you think that?”
He shoved his feet into his boots and leaned into me. “Because I told her about you.”
Not because I made him happy. “You… told your mother about me?”
“I did. Here.”
“Here what?”
He pressed his lips to mine hard and fast. “You’ll be more comfortable here. Get ready and text me when we can come over. Take your time.”
All right, shit. I didn’t have a choice, I guess.
He was gone before I could say another word, and as soon as I heard him shut my door, I jumped out of bed and stumbled to the bathroom, then saw myself in the mirror. “Good heavens!” I didn’t have time for a shower, but I absolutely could not meet his parents looking like this.
My hair was disheveled and greasy, I had raccoon eyes, and all my makeup had rubbed off. How could Scotty even look at me let alone have sex with me when I resembled a drowned rat? I brushed my teeth as I used a wipe on my face, then doused my head with dry shampoo and cleaned up while it was penetrating.
I applied some mascara and filled in my eyebrows, then used the same pink stick to apply blush and some color to my lips. I grabbed my brush and tugged it through my hair, wincing as I ripped out knots. The pain made my eyes watery as I stared at my closet, freaking out even more about what to wear.
It was obvious how much he adored his mom, and I wanted her to actually like me, not just tell Scotty she did to appease him. Sundress, shorts, was loungewear too casual? “Gah!” I whined as I threw my brush across the room. “Jeans,” I decided. “Jeans will work. They can be dressed up or down. Stop talking to yourself.” I scolded myself as I tore through my stack of denim until I found the perfect pair; no holes, skinny but not skintight, not too light and not too dark.
I pulled them up to my waist, zipped and buttoned, dug through my drawer for a bra, then found a plain, pale yellow T-shirt and put them on, finally sliding my feet into nude ballet flats.
“Jewelry. Shit. Is that too fancy?” I felt naked without them, so I put in a pair of diamond studs and my smart watch with a gold band, then took a breath and walked out of my closet. I stopped so fast my body swayed forward as I got a glimpse of myself in the mirror again. “Hair! Oh my God, I made it worse. I have to fix it.”
“Babe.”
I spun around at Scotty’s voice, armed with a curling iron. “I’m not ready yet!” I reached toward the outlet and before I could put the plug in, Scotty stood behind me and pulled me into his chest, turning us so we were looking at our reflection. It was the first time I’d seen us together, and even I could admit we looked good together despite my unruly mane.
One could even say we fit. I was nearly five-eight, and he was a whole head taller than me. His body was wider than mine, but he wasn’t bulky, just incredibly toned. My skin was a shade tanner than his, but much like the difference in our hair colors, they complemented each other perfectly.
