Page 35 of Jensen

Whatever the fuck it is, I want to keep it.

I carry her back into the house and to the bedroom. Outside, I know I should check the animals, but I also know they’re fine. So, maybe it won’t hurt if I just take one day off. I don’t have any jobs today with the crew. There’s one this weekend I can’t reschedule, so I think I’ll soak her up before I have to go.

We fuck, the sheets and blankets on the floor. She comes again, gripping my dick so hard,it pushes me over the edge. Then, she lays against my side and traces her middle finger over the cross on my ribs.

It’s a bizarre sensation, like when an old scar flares up out of nowhere. A little sore, but only when her nail scrapes it.

My dick is raw, but it still hardens halfway.

“What’s your name?” she whispers.

That startles me. Did we never exchange names? I wrack my brain and realize that, while we exchanged sweat, spit, and other things last night, our names never came up. She wriggles up and lays her chin on my chest.

For a second, it’s fine. Then, I’m on the kitchen floor, back to the cupboards, Holly in my lap.

My heart increases. Smoothly, I flip her onto her back, push her up on the pillows, and lay my cheek on her thigh. Her brows knit, but she doesn’t say anything.

“What’s your name?” I ask.

She smiles, just a little. “Guess.”

I study her carefully. “You look like a Cassie or a Delilah. Something smooth, maybe ends on a vowel or something.”

“It’s Della,” she sighs, sinking into the pillows.

“I had the right idea,” I say, enjoying how warm her skin is under my cheek. “Mine’s Jensen.”

Her fingers slip into my hair. She has neatly kept oval nails,and they feel like heaven when they stroke through my hair. I think it’s giving me an emotional boner,because I keep getting hard eventhough I’m not really aroused from it. She’s just got magic in her touch.

“You look like a Jensen,” she says.

I don’t answer. My eyelids are getting heavy. She strokes my hair for a long time. The birds chatter outside. That sweet breeze is coming in through the window,and it feels good on our naked skin. Everything is gold, and I never want to move.

“Do you want me to go?” she whispers.

I open my eyes. She’s leaning over me, soft hair falling around her face.

“No,” I say.

She bites her lip, hiding a smile. “What are your big plans? Just lay around in this bed and fuck?”

“You got a better idea?” I ask.

She looks out the window, thinking. “Do they fight down at the stockyards every night?”

“No, twice a week. So yesterday and tonight.”

“You want to go again?”

There’s a hint of excitement in her face. Surprised, I push myself up on the pillows at her side. She gathers the sheets, pulling themover our waists. Her legs interlace with mine,and she slides her arms around my neck.

“Do you always fight when you go?” she asks.

I shrug. “Sometimes I do, sometimes not.”

“Why don’t you take me on a date?” she says, then freezes like she just did something wrong.

“To the stockyards?” I say. “I can take you somewhere nicer.”