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She trudges in behind me and stands awkwardly next to the bed, shifting her weight from one foot to the other. “I might head up to the house. Logan said he was making hash browns this morning. I was kind of hoping for another peek at his tattoos.”
I crack open one eye and capture her waist, hauling her into bed. “Did you forget what happened last time you flirted with a guy at Top Shelf? If you wanted me to fuck you, all you have to do is ask.”
She rolls her eyes. “Didyouforget I’m on my period?”
“No.”
She spins in my arms to look at me. Her raised eyebrows are all I needed to see.I’m definitely fucking her.I’ve neverdone it before; the opportunity hasn’t presented itself. But when I was looking up things that relieve cramps, sex was near the top of the list.Sold.
“I’ll give you all the orgasms you want, but let me get a couple more hours of sleep first. There’re apple scones in the bag if you’re hungry.”
She sniffles again and pulls out of my arms. The sound of paper bags crumpling tells me she’s digging them out. More sniffling.
I roll onto my back, chuckle, and drape my arm over my eyes. “Stop crying over pastries.”
“They’re my favorite.”
I need her to stop talking so I can go back to sleep. “I know, Sunshine... Eat up, then come to bed.”
When I wake up, I’m much more well-rested. I smile at the warm ball of sweatshirt and sweatpants next to me. She’s facing away, curled up in the fetal position, e-reader tucked in her hand. Her hair is all over the place, only half is being contained by the elastic band. “Nice hair, I hope you win.”
“You’re one to talk, hockey hair.”
I chuckle under my breath and nuzzle the back of her hoodie.
“Sweetheart, top-drawer lettuce shows my commitment to the game and is a sacred hockey tradition.”But she’s right, I need a haircut.“How are you feeling?” My voice is groggy.
“Meh. How areyoufeeling? You’re grumpy when you’re tired.”
“Maybe I’ve got my period too.”
Reaching behind, she slaps my leg. “You couldn’t handle a day with a vagina.”
“I’ll happily handle yours all day long to prove you wrong.”
She swipes the screen, flipping the page in her book. “You’re a pig.”
Smirking, I pull her close to me and hold her wrist up so I can read the page she’s on. She tugs back, but I keep it steady. I thought romance novels had poetic language like stalks, petals, and other floral-genital comparisons. Not these books... Damn, this isexplicit. There’s no mistaking what stuffing a cunt and fisting a cock are.
“What thehellare you reading?”
“It’s a romance,” she says, laughing.
“No, sweetheart, it’s porn. Give it here. I want to read.”
“Fine, but then you read it out loud.”
I smirk. “I think we’ve established I’m not shy about talking dirty. What’s this about, anyway?”
The blush on her face makes me weak. She’s so innocent on the outside, but she has a greedy mind and even greedier pussy. For whatever reason, she’s been waiting for me to let it out—and fuck if that doesn’t get my dick hard.
“It’s about this hockey player who?—”
“A hockey player!” I almost can’t contain my laughter. “Why are you reading about it when you could have the real thing?”
She tries to snatch the e-reader back from me, but I hold it out of reach. “For theromance. It’s notallabout sex.”
Well, what the fuck? I can be romantic. I think. I bought tampons, didn’t I? I flip a couple pages, skimming the words. It’s spicy, but I’d love to act it out on her. I read to myself as the man in the story porks his girlfriend. Cliffs Notes: he leaves hickies under her tits, rubs figure eights into her clit, puts her legs on his shoulders, fucks her till she screams for mercy, then professes his undying love to her.Piece of cake, I can do that. Well, except for the last one. Oh, and maybe skip the eye-darkening thing—whatever the fuck that means. The only way my eyesdarkenis getting in a fight and walking away with a black eye. Also, this dude growls at her a whole fuckin’ lot, so I’ll have to take some liberties there.
