Page 92 of A Real Goode Time

His eyes opened, fixed on me. “Holy shit, Torie.” He blinked. Let out a breath. “Holy shit, I think I love you.”

I gulped, coughed, and wiped at my lips and chin. Coughed again. “Wh—what?”

He struggled to sit up, weak as a kitten. He latched onto my wrist, pulled me toward him—it was a weak tug, and I climbed up onto the bed. He pulled me closer, onto his lap. I hadn’t meant to engage emotional intimacy, only to alleviate my own physical desire for Rhys and his god body.

He held me close, my head tucked against his chest, under his chin. His arms around me. Holding me tight, as if to never let go.

My eyes stung and I told myself it was just because of the coughing fit I’d just gotten over.

“I don’t take it back,” he murmured.

“It was just heat of the moment, right?” I asked. “Like, holy shit I think I love you for doing that.”

He shook his head. “I mean, sure, that’s one meaning.”

“Rhys.”

“Not taking it back. Not apologizing. Not pretending I don’t know what I meant.”

“It was a blowjob, Rhys. Just a blowjob. You’ve gotten blowjobs before.”

“Sure. Never like that, though.” He let out a sharp, disbelieving breath. “Whenever you touch me, it’s always just…more. More intense, more pleasurable, more…meaningful.”

“You’re just using that word because I used it.”

“No.”

“Rhys. You can’t tell me you love me because I sucked you off.”

“I didn’t tell you I loved you. I told you IthinkI love you. And not because you sucked me off. It was an admission of the truth, and it happened because you made me lose control over my filter.” He pulled me away, held my face in both hands, stared me down so I wanted to look away from his intense gaze, but couldn’t. “It may have been an involuntary verbal ejaculation, but I meant it and I don’t take it back. Do with it what you will.”

I was trembling. My heart was pounding. My brain was spinning. “I…”

He sighed, long and slow. Held my face. Kissed me, tenderly, briefly. Pushed me off of him, off the bed. “Go. Take a shower.”

I went, not bothering to close the bathroom door. I turned on the shower, letting it get hot while I rummaged in the drawer of the vanity—as long as I’d been alive, Mom kept a stash of new toothbrushes and tubes of toothpaste in the drawer of each bathroom. And, sure enough, there they were. I brushed my teeth. Rinsed. Brushed again.

Still tasted Rhys’s cum.

Salty, musky. Smoky, pungent. Felt it in my mouth, coating my lips and tongue, teeth and inside of my cheeks.

I liked the taste.

Liked the feel of it.

Liked knowing I’d done something to him that no one ever had. Liked thinking maybe I’d done it to him so well that no one, in the future, would ever be able to compare. But that thought was gross—the idea of another woman, after me, putting her mouth on his cock. Touching him. Kissing him. Another woman’s hands where mine had been?

NO.

He wasmine.

Fuck, that thought was potent, like lightning striking my gut, lancing through my soul, piercing my heart.

I felt his eyes on me as I brushed my teeth a third time and then washed my hands.

It wasn’t that I wanted the taste of him out of my mouth. On the contrary. I wantedmoreof him. I wanted him more than ever. I wanted to sit on his lap and play with his limp cock until it got hard again so I could suck it dry all over again. See if I could make him even crazier.

I wanted to climb on his lap and take that big hard pulsing cock inside me.