And our jokes…they feel more intimate and private than before.
Now when we watch a movie, she no longer falls asleep innocently on my lap. She’s too busy straddling it.
We haven’t told anyone what we’re doing yet. I think we’re both too scared to jinx it or hear what a bad idea it is.
Momma B tried to video-chat me yesterday, then called Caroline when I didn’t answer.
Neither of us could answer because my cock was buried in her throat, and we both got in trouble for not answering our phones.
The only thing I regret is not realizing sooner how good it feels to be with her like this.
Not just the sex—which is incredible—but everything else.
The looks. The simple touches. The feeling of being intimate without actually being intimate.
I didn’t realize I was missing that until now.
Hell, I don’t think I even realized I really wanted it until now.
I hear feet pad across the apartment, and I chuckle.
“Fine, you win—but only because I’m really starting to like your bedroom more.” She barrels into the room, then climbs into my bed like it’s her own, pulling my comforter and the gray blanket over top of her. “Did you know you can hear Mailbox Betty through my bedroom wall? Her cats are super annoying.”
She fluffs the pillow—my favorite pillow—behind her and sighs, letting her eyes fall closed when she leans back against it.
“Are you comfortable?” I ask, staring down at her with a raised brow.
She peels an eye open. “Very. But could you turn out the hallway light? It’s shining right into my eyes when I close them.”
I flip the blanket off my legs, tossing my e-reader onto the bedside table, and push off of the bed. “You’re really going to take advantage of this whole boyfriend thing, aren’t you?”
“Yes. But I also know you’d do it for me anyway because you love me.”
We both still.
Now that’s one part of this I didn’t think about at all.
Love.
We’ve used that word before over the years, casually and not putting anything behind it other than platonic feelings. Because of course I love her. She’s been in my life for over ten years now. How could I not love her?
But now? That word has a different meaning…a different feeling.
She clears her throat and shuffles around the bed.
I force myself to move. To not think about it too hard.
I reach into the hall and flip off the light, then make my way back to the warmth of the bed.
Shit. It actually is getting cold in here.
But I’m not turning up the heat and giving Caroline the satisfaction. I know she’d turn it around to how I did it just for her and not because I was cold too. She’d never shut up about it.
I stop at my dresser and grab an extra pair of socks.
“Are you putting more clothes on? Isn’t that a little counterproductive given what’s going to go on here tonight?”
“My, my, Caroline,” I say, lifting the blanket and scooting back under. “Are you just using me for my body? Is that all I am to you, a plaything?”
She side-eyes me, ignoring my teasing and flipping open her sketchpad that’s lying on her lap.
A folded piece of paper falls out of it, slipping down onto the blankets between us.
“What’s this?” I ask, snatching up the paper. “A love note from your other boyfriend?”
“I bet he’d turn the heat up,” she grumbles, trying to grab the paper from my hand.
I’m faster than her, moving it out of reach and unfolding it.
“It’s nothing,” she insists. “Just a silly design I was thinking of working on.”
I let my eyes wander over the sketch, and I can already picture her wearing it. “This looks good.” I see a note at the bottom. “Wait…does that say jubilee? Is that what this is for?”
She again tries to steal the paper and again fails.
She sighs defeatedly, picking up her sketchpad instead and flipping to a blank page. “River asked me to make some pieces for the event.”
I perk up at her confession.
She’s flippant about it, but I know it’s a big deal. Her father really did a number on her when he refused to support her dream of designing, calling it a pipe dream and pushing her toward something more “practical.”
I tried to convince her it was her future and not his, but since she wasn’t on good terms with her mom, I don’t think she could bear the thought of disappointing her father.
So, she caved.
I think she’s regretted it since.
“Let me guess,” I say, “you told her no.”
She narrows her eyes at me. “It’s none of your business.”
“As a boyfriend, I’m pretty sure it is.”
“As a boyfriend”—she moves unexpectedly, finally managing to snatch the paper from my hands—“it’s definitely not. If I want to put a few pieces up, I’ll do it, and we can celebrate if they sell. And as a boyfriend, it’s also your place to respect if I decide not to and pretend River never asked. You’re not allowed to push me on this. Got it?”
I sigh, letting her win this round. “For what it’s worth, I think you should do it.”
“You always say I should do it when River asks.”
“And I mean it every time. You’re a good designer, Caroline. You should let people see your talent.”
“People do see. I wear my own clothes all the time.”
The dress comes to mind.
Man, the way it hugged every inch of her so perfectly. How her tits were perfectly on display. The way it slid up her legs just enough to leave me curious about what she was wearing underneath whenever she danced.
My cock twitches at the memory, and suddenly I’m disappointed I never got to peel it off her.
“Besides, you don’t need to give me the speech. River already has. She’s been dropping hints all week, and she only asked me a few days ago.”
“Well, take whatever speech she’s been giving you and repeat it back, but do it in a deep sexy voice, so you know it’s me.”
“Is that what you think you have? A deep sexy voice?”
“It’s what I know I have.”
She shrugs. “It’s okay.”
I place my lips against her ear, whispering, “Just okay?”
“Yep.”
“What do I have to do to convince you otherwise? Whisper dirty things into your ear?”
Her eyelids flutter shut. “It won’t work.”
“But I can try, can’t I?”
She makes a noise when I dart my tongue out, teasing her.
“I bet you’d love for me to tell you how much I want to see you ride my cock again. How much I fantasize about watching as your sweet, sweet pussy stretches and takes all of me. How much I want to see you throw your head back and break apart around me as I stroke your pretty little clit.”
Another soft sigh falls from her lips.
“Sh-Shut up.”
I chuckle. “You don’t really want that. You want to hear more, don’t you? Want to hear all the dirty things I’ve been dying to whisper to you?”
She licks at her lips, gulping but not saying anything.
“Do you want me to tell you more dirty things?”