I kiss her hard until she moans, making long strokes with my tongue. She tugs at my shirt. I pull away and shrug it off before pinning her to the bed. “Move your panties to the side,” I whisper in her ear.
“Yesss!” She slides the crotch of her panties to the side, closes her eyes, and lets me give her all the endorphins.
I remind myself that she wants this.
I’m not an inconsiderate man simply getting off at the first chance.
Her rats are not watching me—judging me. Except Gaga. The ugliest one of the bunch.
“Right there …” Ellen’s pelvis lifts from the bed, reaching for more.
I kiss her and slide my hand between us. She cries into my mouth then jerks her head to the side. “I’m coming …”
Good for her. I want to. I really do, but I can’t reach an orgasm with images in my mind of a hairless rat watching my naked ass.
Now it’s just awkward. I’m not wearing a condom. She’ll know if I simply quit and don’t orgasm. But I fear I could break her pelvis if I keep pounding into her while trying to focus on her sexy tits or how warm and tight she feels around me instead of images of Gaga with her freaky little hands gripping the cage as she just stares with her black, beady eyes and pointy snout.
My five minutes are about up. Ellen digs her nails into the muscles of my ass, urging me on.
Fucking rats!
I stop. There’s no point in continuing.
“What are you doing?” she asks, a little breathless.
I pull out and roll onto my back, sliding up my briefs and sweatpants. “You beat me to the finish.” I stare at the ceiling with my hand splayed over my chest. “You needed the endorphins, and now you need some food since I gave you those herbs.”
The bed vibrates as she laughs. “I beat you to the finish? Since when is sex a race with winners and losers?”
“Since you got pregnant and now your needs trump mine.”
“Oh my gosh!” She sits up, holding her nightshirt to her chest. “You’ve had sex since …” Her head shakes as if she needs to rattle out the words instead of speaking them. “Since we were together before Thanksgiving. You … you’ve had adult companionship haven’t you?”
“What?” I sit up just enough to lean back on my elbows. “What are you talking about?”
“It’s the only explanation for pity sex.”
“Pity sex?” I try not to laugh, but this is the craziest thing I’ve ever heard.
“Yes. Pity sex.” She crawls off the bed and pulls her nightshirt back on over her head like she’s angry at it too. “It’s what you give to someone who you deem desperate after you’ve had your fill.”
“My fill of what?”
“Sex! Are you not listening?”
So. Fucking. Much. That’s how much I love this fiery little woman stomping her feet and fisting her hands.
“You think I’ve been off getting ‘my fill’ of sex since you moved here?” I laugh.
She stabs a finger toward me. “Don’t you dare laugh at me.”
“I’m not laughing. I’m—”
“You’re laughing.” She marches out of the room, slamming the bathroom door behind her.
Okay, I’m laughing a little bit. I knock on the door.
“Go away.”
I turn the handle. It’s not locked.
“Gaga …” I step in and shut the door behind me.
Narrowed eyes look at my reflection in the mirror. “What?”
“I couldn’t stop thinking about Lady Gaga watching us. That’s why I didn’t finish.”
“Bullshit.”
“Turn around.”
She shakes her head.
“Turn. Around.”
On a sigh, she turns, leaning against the vanity. “What are you doing?”
“Taking five more minutes to prove a point.” I squat down in front of her, pulling off her panties.
“Flint—”
I hold a shushing finger to my lips a second before shoving my sweatpants and briefs down my legs. Her gaze drifts to my erection because it’s pretty much a constant when I’m with her.
“I haven’t been with anyone but you since the day you walked into my life.” I lift her up onto the vanity.
“Flint—”
“Shhh …” I kiss her while wedging myself between her legs.
She sucks in a quick breath as I push into her. My hand finds her breast as I find a rhythm.
“Race you to the finish,” I whisper in her ear.
Elle’s lips press to my neck, pulling into a grin. I show her how much I love her. How much I’ve missed her. How much I crave every inch of her. And then I beat her to the finish, pulling her across the line just after me.
With her arms draped over my shoulders, she collapses into my chest. And because this is my life with Ellen Rodgers, the unlocked door behind me opens while I’m still balls deep.
“Grandma!” Ellen shrieks.
“Oh … dear.” She clears her throat.
I glance up at her reflection in the mirror, but she’s staring at my bare ass like fucking Lady Gaga.
“Your grandpa is using one bathroom downstairs and your dad is in the other. I really need to relieve my old bladder.” She continues to focus on my ass.
“Thirty seconds, Grandma. Just shut the door. Okay?” Ellen buries her face in my neck.
“Oh … okay.” She backs out and shuts the door.
“Oh my god …” Ellen whispers.
I chuckle, pulling out and easing her to her feet.
“Turn around.”
I raise a brow as she lifts the toilet lid.
“Just do it,” she says with exasperation.
I pull up my pants and turn my back to her while she pees … and hums. She slips back on her panties and washes her hands. We both stare at the door for a few seconds, readying ourselves for Grandma on the other side.
Ellen takes a deep breath and opens the door. Grandma smiles as we squeeze past her.
“What kind of therapy was that, Dr. Hopkins?”
She’s good.
I grin. “Just good ole sexual healing.”
Grandma purses her lips to keep from grinning and shakes her head at me before shutting the door.
“I feel very close to your grandma.”
Ellen pulls on her robe, still red from nose to toe. “You’re going to give her a heart attack.”
“I’m going to start locking that bathroom door. She just doesn’t look like the stairs are her thing.” I lean against the doorframe. “Yet, she seems to navigate them just fine when she senses we’re naked in the bathroom.”
Ellen rolls her eyes and fists my shirt while she gently taps her forehead against my chest. “It’s something with my dad’s family. A sixth sense. I didn’t tell my dad about my situation, but I have this feeling he knows.”
“You should tell him. Do you want me to tell him?”
She glances up. “No. Do you want me to tell Harry?”
“Yes.”
“Sure.” A laugh escapes at the end of her single word.
I don’t smile. I don’t blink.
“You’re joking.”
I shake my head.