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“We had sex this morning,” I said, my voice breathless as he rubbed that beautiful dick against my hip.
“Doesn’t count.” He kissed down my throat.
“How does that not count?” I arched into his touch when he squeezed my breast.
“It was four in the morning when you woke me up with your horniness. I was half-asleep while we fucked, so it doesn’t count,” he said.
I laughed. “One, you woke me up with your cock poking at my butt, and two, you were awake enough to refuse to let me climax until after I sucked your dick.”
“How will you learn to deep throat me if you don’t practice?” he said before pinching my nipple. “Stay with me, baby. Please. I need to be buried in your sweet pussy again.”
I glanced out the window at the falling snow, but how could I resist that? I couldn’t… not when I wanted his cock just as desperately.
“I’ll stay, but it needs to be a quickie,” I said. “I have to leave in half an hour at the latest.”
“Why? Do you have a date or something?” His voice was casual, but his body had tensed.
“No, of course not,” I said. “I just…”
God, I did not want to look weak yet again in front of him.
“What?” he asked.
“Driving in the dark last night was scary, and now it’s still snowing, and the roads will be even worse. Marvin has winter tires, but they’re a few years old and not… super grippy.” I smiled at him and kissed his chest. “I don’t want to drive home in the dark. I know I’m being a giant chicken about it, but -”
“You’re not,” he said. “And when I said stay with me, I meant for the night.”
“Seriously?” I leaned back to stare at his face. “You want me to stay the night again?”
“I do.”
“Then I will,” I said.
Oh, what that smile of his did to me. He hugged me hard, and I buried my face in his throat, shoving away my traitorous thoughts about Deacon wanting more. But they kept intruding, kept pointing out how we’d spent the afternoon cuddling, not fucking, and he’d just asked me to spend the entire weekend with him and -
“I’ll text the sisters and book you for this afternoon,” Deacon said. I froze against him as he kissed my neck. “Do you want me to book an overnight session?”
“No,” I said, my voice hoarse. “I don’t want you booking for today.”
He tried to step away, and I clung to him, hugging him hard so he wouldn’t see the stupid tears catching in my lashes.
“I’ll book one for tomorrow, then,” he said. “So you won’t miss out on your usual Sunday payment.”
I swiped a hand across my cheeks, catching the tears that had escaped.
“No need,” I said, making my voice light and cheerful. “I’d like us to hang out this weekend as friends.”
“I’d like that too,” he said after a pause.
“Great.” I released him and stepped back, keeping my face turned away. “I need to use the washroom and then what do you say we watch episode four?”
“Okay,” he said. “Riley, are you good?”
“I’m great. Will you make me another hot chocolate?” I asked as I left the kitchen.
“Sure,” he said.
I made a weird little wave of thanks and practically stampeded down the hallway to the bathroom. I shut the door and locked it, leaning against it as the hot tears washed down my cheeks. Christ, what was wrong with me? I was in love with the guy who paid me to have sex with him. I was pathetic.
