“You don’t even know me,” she snapped.
“We’ve all been you before,” Paris said. “Any woman who’s had a bad day and has lost it has had a moment where she wanted to act like this. Not many actually do it, though. Don’t be this person. Just…leave.”
“You two deserve each other,” Allison snapped and then stormed out of the house, pushing past Paris on the way. Paris saved the champagne and raised a brow at me.
“I guess we do deserve each other,” I said.
“She wasn’t always that weird, right?” she asked, closing the door behind her.
I reached around her, locked the door, and then kissed her hard, taking the groceries and champagne from her. “No. She wasn’t. You don’t think something’s wrong with her and Tony, do you?”
“She looked as if she’d had her heart broken, nothing else. I can go out and try to find out if you want,” Paris said.
I shook my head. “No, I’m not worried. I don’t like that she looked so sad, though.”
“And she came here and saw you in your fucking gray sweatpants without any underwear, so your dick looks lickably good.”
I barked out a laugh. “That’s why you like me in these gray sweats?”
“It’s a meme. We all like our men in gray sweatpants when they ride low.”
“Wow. I just learned something new. And I’m never wearing gray sweatpants in front of anyone else again.”
“You’re damned right. I’m the only one who gets to see your VPL.”
“How much time have you been spending on social media recently?” I asked, watching her sit herself down on the counter.
“I had a long week when I wasn’t going into work, and I happened to read a lot of blogs and fan fiction. I can’t help it.”
“I guess I’m going to be wearing gray sweatpants for you often.”
“That is what I like to hear,” she said, and I leaned down to kiss her again.
“You think she’s okay?” I asked, still worried about Allison.
“Okay, I’m not going to be angry that you kissed me and were thinking of her. We can continue this conversation if you want.”
I winced. “I don’t want to think that I hurt her in some way that made her act like this.”
“No, she’s just selfish, and she wants what she can’t have. If she does it again, and we notice something, we can see if there’s an underlying issue. Honestly, I think she was hurt and trying to get what she can’t have anymore. And she can’t have you.”
“Damned straight.”
“So, kiss me again and don’t think of her.”
I set down what I was working with for brunch, wrapped my arms around her, and kissed her hard, biting her lip, slowly nibbling down her neck.
“Just you.”
“You’d better.”
I kissed her again. Paused. “Nothing’s in the oven.”
“Really?”
“Really.” And then my lips were on hers, and I was slowly stripping her out of her tank top. She’d only worn a little cotton bra, one that barely held her breasts, so I pulled it over her head. Her breasts fell heavily into my palms. I sucked on her nipples, licking, biting. And she moaned, reaching behind the band on my sweatpants to grip my dick.
I was already hard, wet at the tip, and she rolled her thumb across the crease, slowly squeezing, running up and down my length. I tugged at her jeans, working them down. Suddenly, we were both naked in the kitchen, both of us laughing as we kissed and touched.
I lay her on my tile floor, slid my hands under her ass, and began to lick, blowing cool air on her clit, eating her out exactly like I had told her I would when we were on the phone together in the shower this morning.
She arched under me, her hands on her breasts. When she came, I sucked at her orgasm, lapping up her juices before crawling over her, kissing her again, and rolling us both so I was on my back, and she was over me.
“On me,” I growled.
“It’s about time,” she whispered.
I reached for the condom that I had set out in the kitchen earlier in hopes this might happen and rolled it down my length. Then she sank down on me, her pussy clenching my cock. She rocked her hips, moving achingly slow on my dick, riding me until both of us were screaming and panting. I arched up into her, slamming into her hard, over and over again, her breasts bouncing as I did. And then she leaned forward, palms next to my head, kissing me hard. I reached up, gripped her breasts, molding the mounds, pinching the nipples, needing to touch her. I needed everything from her. I moved my hands back down to her ass, spreading her cheeks so I could thrust deeper, fucking her hard in my kitchen. We both shouted, our mouths on each other as we came.
I rolled to the side, my cock still deep inside her as I looked down at her. We grinned, both of us laughing.
“I thought I said you had to feed me first,” she teased, her voice hoarse with pleasure.
“I didn’t stick my dick in your mouth. So, technically, you haven’t eaten dick.”
“Should I make the joke that my pussy has, or have we reached a whole new level?”
We both laughed again, my dick twitching inside of her. I sank down, my forehead on her shoulder as I laughed. I never thought I could feel this bliss.
This was what love was. Awkward moments, kitchen floor sex, and laughing while you were still hard and deep inside the woman you loved.
And I fucking loved it.
We cleaned up, both of us taking quick showers separately because we were both starving. Then we drank mimosas and ate a decently done frittata in my living room, and I simply smiled at her, watching the way she moved.
“What is with you?” she asked, giving me a weird look.
I shook myself out of my reverie. “Just looking at you. You’re pretty hot.”
I wasn’t ready to tell her that I loved her. I was barely getting used to the idea myself.
“You’re pretty hot, too. Thank you for putting on the rest of your clothes, because you in jeans is just as hot as you in sweatpants. Though it takes more work for me to get to your dick, and I needed to eat real food first.”
I choked out another laugh. “Thanks for that.” I let out a breath, setting my plate and glass down on the table. “I have something to give you.” She opened her mouth to say something, and I shook my head. “Nothing dirty. I promise. It’s something I’ve wanted to talk to you about. If it’s too quick, though, you can say something. And you can give it back, and we won’t talk about it again. Only…I wanted to tell you.”
She went sheet-white for a second, and I thought I had messed up.
Instead, she smiled and gave me a weird look.
“What are you doing, Prior?”
I reached into my jeans’ pocket, and her eyes widened for a minute. I was relieved I hadn’t put the key in a box like I had originally planned. I’d thought a little present would work, but that would look way too much like a ring when neither of us was ready for that.
“I got you a key to my house,” I said.
Her eyes widened even further.
“If it’s too soon, you can tell me to forget it. I’m over at your house, you are over here enough that I figured…why not? We can figure out exactly what it means together over time. Still, you have a drawer here and a toothbrush, mostly because we are both practical, and carrying a bag in and out of the house every day is ridiculous. Anyway, I wanted you to have it.”