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I like all that.
Well, except for her not believing in love, and liking Loki, or any other guy for that matter.
Shit. I sit back, rubbing a hand over my face. What the hell am I doing? Who cares what she likes, or who, and if she has a crazy cat as her profile picture? Who cares if she doesn’t believe in love?
Do I?
She’s not with me. Nor will she ever be.
Which reminds me. She’s coming to pick me up, and the time is passing. I should change. In fact… I sniff my armpit, because, girls. They’re weird about sweat.
Yeah, I’m kinda ripe, just from moving small things around the shop—and sweating out the booze I drank last night, alone, in my apartment.
Okay, shower. Change clothes. Get ready.
Move it.
Getting up is a challenge when your ribs burn like fire. An arm around my ribs, I manage to get to my feet and shuffle to the bathroom. Taking off my sweater and T-shirt is another challenge.
Wish she were here. Naked, standing in front of me, smiling. Touching me.
I’m hard before I even enter the shower stall. It’s too narrow. We’d have to stand pressed together to fit.
Like there could be any other fucking way we’d shower. I’d push her up against the wall, kiss her senseless. Then I’d wrap her legs around my hips, lift her up to suck on her tits. And I’d fuck her, hard and fast, feel her clench and pulse around me.
I slam my hand against the wall and turn on the water. The first splash is ice cold, jolting a curse out of me, and then it runs warm, sluicing down my bruised back. I barely notice the pain, my hard-on urgent, demanding my attention.
I hiss when I close my hand around my dick. It’s throbbing, hard and heavy, my balls hot and aching and tight.
Maybe it’s from seeing all those damn photos of her online. From remembering her body, her voice, her startled laughter. The teasing gleam in her eyes.
Oh shit, I’m so close already. I work my hand up and down my junk, fisting the tip, sliding back down to the base and squeezing. I remember her mouth around my dick, the concentrated expression on her delicate face as she took me in, those soft, pink lips stretched around my girth, and I groan, almost coming.
Not yet.
Fuck, it’s as if I haven’t come in years, not days. I puff out a breath as I bow my head, beating my meat faster, feeling the pressure build.
I close my eyes, and I’m deep inside of her, filling up that sweet, tight pussy, pounding into her, forcing those little mewling sounds from her throat.
Not enough. I want to hear her scream with pleasure. I wish… Too late, though. Too fucking late, and I’m so close, my body tightening, muscles clenching.
I think about her tits, so perfect, spilling over my palms, so soft and her nipples so hard, and I imagine the tips in my mouth as she comes, pulling me deep into her.
Blue, she whispers in my mind as I spill against the wall, shaking and grunting. Blue.
Kay loves Blue.
But that will never fucking happen.
PART III
Chapter Seventeen
Kayla
He’s waiting outside his building when I go to pick him up around five, a tall figure in a black jacket and long, jeans-clad legs, his hair messed up from the wind.
In fact, come to think of it, I can’t remember a time I saw his hair combed or gelled. It’s always a cute, sexy mess.
