“And it’s enough?” I ask.
“Am I Uncle Scrooging it in money? No,” he says, looking away. “But it’s enough to get by.”
I cup his cheek, making him look at me again. “You are something else, Oscar Drego.”
He shakes his head. “I did what I had to to survive.”
“But you did do it,” I tell him. Not everyone does. His mom, for example. She checked out. She’s not helping. She’s not doing anything. Brawler’s mom, too. Hell, Johnny’s mom left him as well. Not everyone does what they should do. Even if you just do that, you’re doing okay. Sometimes it’s enough just to do enough.
Oscar leans forward to gesture toward his offerings. “Which first?”
“Chips,” I tell him, already salivating. He hands me the bag of Doritos, and I open them, holding them between us so we can share.
We decide on a movie and start to watch. Minutes turn into an hour and an hour into three as we put in another movie and snuggle on the couch together. It’s so comfortable being here. In fact, it’s so comfortable I fall asleep and Oscar wakes me with a kiss to the crown of my head. “Let’s go to bed, Princess.”
I play groan at him, and he smirks. “Do you want the bed to yourself?”
I stand, wrapping my arms around his middle. “Absolutely not. I want to wake up in your arms.”
Oscar and I undress once we’re in his room. He shucks his clothes off until he’s in his boxers while I’m in his football shirt. He teases the fabric between his fingers. “I love that you wore this.”
I shrug it off like it doesn’t matter, but I love wearing their clothes. Is that strange? There’s just something about wearing their too-big t-shirts. Letting them—their smell—wrap all around me is like having them close to me all the time.
Oscar has just wrapped his arms around me after we get in bed when his phone rings. He breathes out. “If that’s one of them, no promises I won’t murder their asses.”
I smirk, but when he turns over, he answers it without any venom. The sheets gather at his waist as I play my hands up and down his back.
“Really?” Oscar asks.
The tone in his voice makes me stop.
“Yeah, thanks for telling me.” He breathes out, displeased. “No, no. I’ll take care of it.”
He hangs up the phone, resting it against his forehead.
“What’s up?”
“Another body found.” He pulls the phone away to scroll through his Contacts. He stops on Johnny’s name and presses Send. Whatever he answers with, Oscar says, “No, she’s fine.”
I smile at that, though Oscar doesn’t seem to think it’s sweet or cute or funny. “Body found in the alley just south of the boulevard. Candy in the pockets.” He pauses. “Yeah, one of our guys. My guy tells me it looks like it’s been there a couple of days. He called us first.”
Without another word, Oscar hangs up with a shrug. “What?” I ask.
“He said he’d take care of it.”
“Who is it?” I ask, mind already filled with nasty images of a ghostly white, decaying body. And bugs. I shiver.
Oscar pulls me close to him. “One of our low guys. A grunt.”
“If he died a couple of days ago...?”
“I know,” Oscar says, rubbing my arm nonchalantly. “Then that’s only a couple of days after Farmingham, and a level up, too.”
I finish his thought. “So, we could have another dead body on our hands shortly…”
“In theory,” he says.
We lie there, my mind working over what’s happened. Eventually, Oscar brushes a kiss over my temple. “Shh, Princess. Get some sleep. There’s nothing we can do right now.”
Oscar’s a sound sleeper. The next morning, I wake before him. Each movement I make on the bed doesn’t rouse him, so I start playing a little game. I trail my fingernails over his body. Still, his breathing is steady and even, eyes twitching under his lids.
I take it a step further, fingers brushing over his cock. In the middle of the night, he must have shed his boxers because he’s naked under the sheets. His dick twitches and grows. I swear, his heart pumps louder even though he hasn’t fully woken yet. I grip his dick in my hand, giving him small pumps. He rouses even more, moaning like he’s having a very good dream.
I bet he is, and I’m going to give him the best dream.
I push the covers away and scoot down the bed. I’ve already had a taste of Oscar, so I know what it feels like to have him in my mouth. My core clenches at the thought. Before he wakes up, I pull my shirt off and shimmy my panties down my legs, leaving us both bare. If this turns out the way I want it to, I won’t be needing these clothes, anyway.
I lick Oscar like a lollipop, swirling my tongue over his head. His hips jerk, and I grip him tighter, working him toward my lips. I take him all inside, humming.
“Ahh, fuck,” Oscar says sleepily. He tangles his hand in my hair, giving my head pressure. I glance up to meet his eyes, and his mouth is open in a silent “O” of surprise as I work him. “Fuck, Princess.”
I let his dick pop out of my mouth and grin at him. “Sorry. I wasn’t tired anymore.”
I push his hips to the bed and take him in my mouth again, running my lips down his length and back up.
“You undressed for me?” he asks huskily, reaching out to tweak my nipple.
I nod, the movement working my mouth over his cock.
“You’re moving in and never leaving,” he breathes out.
He’s so serious that I can’t help but smile, ruining the rhythm I had going on, but Oscar doesn’t mind. He takes my chin and moves me up to claim my lips. He groans as if he enjoys tasting himself on me. Liquid lust burns through me hot and needy. I crawl over his body, so turned on that I can barely think. His cock presses against my center, and I ease myself over him.
He lets me go, eyes shooting wide. “Kyla.” His surprise turns into a groan as I move over him. He lowers his gaze to where we meet, watching his cock disappear inside me. “You’re so tight,” he grinds out. “Fuck me.”
“I thought that’s what I was doing,” I tease.
He reaches up to play with my tits. “Take whatever you need from me, Princess.”
I grind down over him, my walls clenching around his hard ridges. “Fuck, Oscar.”
He grips my hips. “You like my cock inside you.”
“Yes, your bare cock.” I swallow, my mouth suddenly dry. Being this close to him without any barrier is a drug. I could shoot up with it and be high on life.
His dark, wild eyes watch my every movement. We grind against one another, and I lose myself in the chase of pleasure. I’m not quiet. I give Oscar every little piece I have inside me.
“Yes, right there.” I grind down over him, and he meets me, anchoring me with his hands on my hips.
The bed rocks and the frame hits the wall as I ride him. The rhythmic pattern of the thumps match my cries. “That’s right, Princess,” Oscar encourages. “Tell everyone.”
A low, throaty moan escapes me. I can’t wait until I can share my feelings for all of them with the world and not have to worry about the consequences. I don’t want to hide.