Page 24 of Mister McStudmuffin

Another tight grip to my hips. I know I’ll have fingerprint bruises there tomorrow. Oh, how I wish it meant he was marking me, claiming me.

“Were there times when you wished Mike was nothing but a figment of your imagination?” he asks.

I start to answer, then I pause.

Shit.

He knows the truth. He’s about to drop me flat on my ass and tell me to get the hell out of his house.

“You already know, don’t you? The truth about Mike? How did you figure it out?”

A ghost of a smile appears on his lips. “I didn’t figure anything out. Your sister actually texted me.”

I roll my eyes. “Of course she did. She just can’t help but stick her fingers in everything.”

I go to move myself off his lap, but his arms band around me, keeping me in place.

“I’m glad she told me.”

“You are?”

He nods. “You should have told me yourself, but none of that even matters anymore. What matters is what happens after this.”

“What do you want to happen? Because I know what I want. What I’ve wanted for three years.” I hold his face in my hands and look into his eyes. “I know because I love you. I’ve been in love with you. I’m tired of hiding that. Tired of pretending that I want anyone else but you.”

His eyes close and he leans into my touch.

“Is that really how you wish things had gone between us? Everything you said tonight? Did I ruin our entire relationship—before we even have one—with my silly lie?”

He smiles. “No, baby. You didn’t ruin anything.” He lifts me off his lap and sets me on the bed. Then he stands.

It puts me just about eye level with the enormous bulge in his boxer briefs.

“I love our story,” he says, peeling those boxers down. “It’s not perfect, but it’s ours. Not a single moment of time with you has been a waste. You were worth the wait.”

“We’re worth the wait.”

When he stands to his full height, I get the full picture. His impressive chest and those abdominal muscles, his tree-trunk thighs, but I am staring at his dick as if I’ve never seen one before.

I clear my throat. “So I know that JD stands for James Dean.”

He grunts. “My mother and her strange obsession with old movies.”

“I think what it really means though is Jumbo Dick.” I glance up at him. “Sir, how do you even walk around with that monster between your legs?”

He throws his head back and laughs. “I’m going to need you to make that announcement in the town square. Better yet, I’ll have a t-shirt made for you, telling everyone the truth about my name.”

“You think I’m kidding.”

He looms over me, pressing us down onto the bed. “Are you worried it won’t fit?”

I roll my eyes. “No. That channel can widen to fit a baby head, I think it can fit your gargantuan erection.”

He laughs again. Then he looks into my eyes. “I’m in love with you, Chelsea. You’re the only woman I’ve ever loved.”

“We’re in love,” I tell him. “Now, can we please transition to the physical portion of this love story?”

He gives me a shit-eating grin. “Yes ma’am.”