Why do women watch this depressing shit?
I hadn’t expected it to be gut wrenching.
“I’m sorry I’m a mess,” she said as she sniffled, wiping her nose with the back of her hand.
“It’s okay,” I said as I patted her knee, liking the softer side of Race, minus the hand thing. I leaned over and reached for a tissue. “Here,” I said, handing it to her.
“It’s just so sad,” she said with a shaky voice as she took the tissues from my hand. She blew her nose with one and wiped her tears away with the other. “I can’t get through this movie without using an entire box of Kleenex.” She curled up next to me, snuggling into my side. “This part gets me every time.” She wiped her face against my T-shirt.
I stroked her shoulder, letting my fingertips glide against her soft skin. Glancing down, I snuck a peek at her tits. Soft, round peaks stuck out of the top of her tank top, and I itched to taste them again.
“Are you watching?” she asked, peering up at me and catching me staring at her chest.
I cleared my throat. “Yep.”
“Watch,” she demanded, lifting my chin to see the television instead of her breasts.
My eyes kept moving between the screen and her chest.
I couldn’t help it.
I wanted her again.
As the final scenes closed and a new world of possibility opened for the female lead, the movie left me feeling…hopeful.
“Wasn’t it amazing?” she asked as she wiped the last traces of tears off her face.
“It wasn’t what I expected.” Using the pad of my thumb, I brushed away a single tear that had been missed by her tissue. “Sorry,” I whispered.
As I started to pull away, she said, “No. Don’t.”
My stomach instantly flipped. “Race,” I warned, feeling my dick grow hard.
I knew what she was going to say. I could see it in her deep-green eyes. “Morgan, I can’t stop thinking about us,” she whispered as she touched my cheek.
“Me either,” I said, pulling in a ragged breath.
“Stay with me tonight,” she said, brushing her lips against my neck, sending shock waves rippling straight to my dick.
“I’m staying, princess. I told you that,” I said, tangling my hand in her hair.
“No,” she murmured against my skin. “I want you in my bed tonight.”
I smirked, feeling my insides warm. “I’ll stay wherever you want me to.”
She crawled into my lap and held my face in her hands. “I want you to hold me tonight,” she whispered, her eyes watery.
“Is that all?” I teased, cocking an eyebrow.
She shook her head, biting her bottom lip. “No. I want to feel you inside me again.”
I grabbed her hips and squeezed them gently as she leaned forward, and hovered over my lips.
“Please,” she begged.
“I’ll stay with you tonight. Not because I have to, Race, but because I want to,” I said before capturing her lips in a kiss.
She relaxed into me, wrapping her arms around my neck and kissing me back with fervor. My hands slid down her thighs, loving the feel of her soft skin against my palm.
