I shake my head. “You’re going to wear my T-shirt without anything underneath.”
She smiles and wraps her arms around my neck. “Why?”
“Because all the times I sat there and watched you in my shorts and shirt, I always wished you were only wearing my shirt and nothing else.”
“So this is like a fantasy?” She grins.
“Do you have any fantasies?”
She shrugs, climbing off my lap and putting on the T-shirt.
“Whoa, whoa, whoa.” I grab the hem and pull her toward me, my hands sliding up her chest. “I didn’t say to put the shirt on now.”
“I’m starving and I’m not going to eat naked.”
I let the T-shirt fall and snatch the shorts off the bed, stepping into them. “How about some 9 ½ Weeks action?”
“You know I’ve never seen that movie?” She glances back at me before disappearing out of my bedroom.
“That’s changing right now.” We walk down the stairs and I slide my arms around her waist, pulling her back to me, making it difficult for us to get to the kitchen. “I think I beat off to that movie every day the summer after I turned fourteen.”
She circles around, and I pick her up, her legs winding around my waist. “Hmm… and here I thought maybe you only beat off to me?”
“Well, you were still flat-chested then.” She hits my back and I put her on the kitchen counter, my hands sliding up her thighs to part them, my fingers dangerously close to her center. “Don’t worry, you’re number one.”
She rolls her eyes. “I’m flattered.”
I open the fridge. Unfortunately, I haven’t really gone grocery shopping this week because I anticipated being away for my honeymoon.
“I don’t have much.” I set eggs on the counter behind me and a pizza I ordered last night but never finished.
“Tell me something you imagine about me when you’re jerking off.”
I glance over my shoulder and cock an eyebrow. “Is that your kink?”
She shrugs. “There were times that I… you know…”
I abandon the fridge and nestle my hips between her legs again. “No, I don’t know. I’ll tell you if you tell me.”
A blush runs up her neck, hitting her cheeks.
“You don’t have to be shy with me.” I pull her to the edge of the counter and her arms fall over my shoulders.
“You tell me first.”
I nod. “Well, I fantasized about you wearing my T-shirts with nothing on underneath, like I said, but there was this one night when I returned from college before I started graduate school. I was at your apartment and the air went out. Kingston had been called to a fire, so he was gone. You guys were letting me crash until I found a place of my own. It started to rain, and you thought the cool rain would feel good because we were both so hot even with all the fans on us. Do you remember?”
She nods and smiles. “We went outside, and I realized way too late I was wearing white. You said you didn’t notice.” She slaps my chest and I laugh.
“Because if I had told you, you would’ve wanted to go inside. But…” I lean forward and press a kiss to her lips. “I always have this fantasy that I approach you, take off your T-shirt and shorts, and we have sex right there as the rain pours down over us.”
“In the middle of downtown?” Her eyebrows rise.
“That’s why it’s a fantasy. It was just us, the rain, and a desolate street.”
She wiggles. “I like that one.” I wait patiently until she stares at me. “What?”
“Your turn.”
She gnaws at the inside of her cheek. “Mine is actually from this house.”
“Do tell.” I open the pizza box and take out a slice, holding it to her lips.
She takes a small bite, chews, and swallows. “I came over one day, and I think it was summer too. You were working on the deck. And you had shorts on, no shirt, and a tool belt. Your chest was so shiny with sweat and your muscles would flex and bulge with every swing of the hammer.”
“What’s the fantasy? Because from what I remember, you threw me a water, I scrambled to catch it, and you said it was too hot to be outside.”
She giggles and nods. “Well, that night, let’s just say, that tool belt dropped to the wooden deck, along with your shorts, and you showed me your real tool.”
“I’m not sure which one is better.” I feed her more of the slice of pizza.
“Mine of course.” She nudges close to me, kissing up my jawline. “Your five o’clock shadow is looking pretty hot right now.”
“Why, Miss Nympho, are you wanting to take this pizza upstairs?”
She shakes her head. “I never said upstairs. Besides, I think I have to get to know your penis a little better so I can properly nickname it.” Her fingers sweep down my chest until they slip under the elastic of my shorts.
“Can we please just use dick in the meantime?” Her palm applies pressure and I rock against it. “On second thought, call it whatever you want as long as you keep doing that.”
And in only a few hours, we christen two rooms in my house. Thank goodness I bought a three-bedroom.
Twenty-Two
Juno
A large arm slips around my waist, fingers crawling up my stomach, cradling me into a strong chest.
“Morning,” Colton says in a groggy voice.
I’m not sure if we’re actually up or only temporarily awake for our sixth time tonight. Neither one of us has allowed the other to sleep. After the kitchen, we tried to watch a movie, but that just ended with me on my knees between his legs. Then a movie in bed sounded like a better plan, but five minutes in, Colton was kissing my neck and his hands were venturing south to my core. And every time we rolled around in the bed, one of us found the other and a few groggy kisses turned into sex.
He rolls over me, his length already hard and ready. Locking my wrists down with his strong hands, he teases his tip at my center. We’re already done with condoms and if I’m being honest, I wasn’t sure we’d even use them to begin with. Last night in the kitchen when the condom seemed a million miles away, we had a brief talk about testing and he already knew I was on the pill.
Weird because in a way, I feel as if we’ve warped past a million stages of a normal relationship.
“Mr. Willy is already up and raring to go with the sun, huh?”
He shakes his head, but his smirk says he doesn’t hate the new names I’m trying out for his dick. For some reason, it’s easier than acknowledging that we’ve crossed that line and I’m now way too familiar with the way my best friend screws.
I widen my legs to give his hips more room and he slides into my wetness. I moan softly as if I’m a cat being pampered. Without releasing my hands, he grinds into me, circling his hips in a painfully slow motion. One thing that’s consistent is Colton’s always looking at me to see what I’m enjoying. I’ve noticed he can read my body, which has to be a perk of him knowing me so well.
“Will I ever not want to be woken up like this?” I arch my back, tugging at my hands, wanting to touch him.