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I pulled on his shoulders so he was leaning over me, pressing a soft kiss against his lips. I’d never imagined I could feel comfortable with someone like this. So quickly.
I was already hating the thought of moving out when I found my own place.
“Tell me something no one else knows about you, and then I’m going to fuck you while you sing to me,” he said in that same soft, romantic tone he’d been using since he got home.
My mouth dropped open, and he had the audacity to wink at me, like he hadn’t justruinedmy panties.
“You first,” I ordered.
Walker straddled me and pulled on the t-shirt, yanking it off. “One of these days I’m going to fuck you in my t-shirt…and then in my jersey…but that’s going to have to wait for another day. I’ve got a specific fantasy of you playing the guitar naked, and that’s what I'm hoping you’ll give me today.”
I could feel my skin heating up as he removed the jean shorts I’d been wearing as well.
A second later, the panties and bra somehow seemed to magically disappear, and I was lying naked underneath him. Luckily for me, he’d undressed as well this time.
“There,” he said, with an air of satisfaction. “Now everything’s perfect.”
I rolled my eyes but made no move to cover myself. I liked him looking at me as if he’d die if he looked away.
I got hungry looks from people all the time, but it was for ‘Olivia Darling’. Walker had seen all the broken parts of ‘Olivia Jones’ and he was still looking at me like the sun rose and set because I existed.
He made me feel different. Like the world didn’t have to be gray anymore. Like it was possible for me to live in a world where colors existed.
I wondered what it would be like if I got to keep him—at the same time hating that he’d made me think of things like that.
“Let’s see. What’s a new thing for you to know about me?” he mused, dragging me out of my darkening thoughts like he always did.
“You mean what’s something no one knows about you,” I corrected him, and he kissed me, like my sassy mouth turned him on.
That or he was trying to shut me up.
Regardless, I was a big fan of his methods.
“Ready for this one, because there’s a ‘before’ and there’s an ‘after’ you find this out. And there’s no going back,” he told me, his tone very serious.
“Alright, give it to me, Davis.”
“Last names, I like your style.”
“I’m learning from the best,” I said with a wink, as his gaze dipped from my face to my boobs for a second.
I’d kind of forgotten I was naked for a minute.
“Here it is. I’m scared of…pineapples.”
I stared at him for a second. “Sorry…what did you just say?”
“Well, only when they’re on my pizza but…”
I poked him in the stomach and huffed. “I thought we were being serious. I’m literally laying here, butt naked, desperate for you to fuck me.”
“I’m well aware. But please feel free to say “fuck me” again. Because that was fucking hot.”
“Tell me something real,” I insisted softly as his fingertips dragged along my sides.
He was quiet for a moment, seemingly lost in thought—that or he was staring at my breasts, I couldn’t really tell.
“My dad died ten years ago. He woke up one day, kissed my mother, got out of bed…and then just died. And my mom…she might as well have died too. She’s basically a zombie. A sweet, sad zombie. Every day.”
