A grin spreads across my face. “Hell yeah, that’s gonna be so hot.”
Now I just need to figure out my costume. With three weeks until the party, and even with all this stress, one thing stays the same—I refuse to show up in anything less than unforgettable.
Stepping back into my room, I notice the clock edging toward eight. Morning light barely slips through the blinds, stretching across the bed in soft lines that highlight the warm glow of Levy’s rich tan skin. For a moment, I stand at the edge of the mattress just… watching him, hoping he’d already be awake, ready for this conversation I’ve been bracing myself for.
I carefully slide under the covers beside him. As I lie there, my thoughts drift—back to the little things that made me fall for him in the first place. The flowers he’d bring just because he thought I deserved something pretty. The way he’d make me laugh until my stomach hurt. The nights we spent tangled together, where it felt like the whole world narrowed down to us and nothing else. I remind myself I’ve been through worse—much worse—and if this is a bump in the road, then we can push through it. Together.
Unlike Jacob, Levy and I actually built something—months of living together, falling asleep in the same bed, waking up to the same warmth. And not once have I felt like I wasn’t enough. If anything, he makes me feel like I can carry the whole world without breaking.
And honestly a part of me clings to that. Because if he’s here every night, sleeping inches from me… it’ll be a hell of a lot harder for him to cheat.
After about twenty minutes of drifting in and out of light sleep, his eyes blink open slowly, he turns toward me, a faint, sleepy smile pulling at his lips. “Good morning,” he murmurs, voice rough and deeper than usual.
“Good morning,” I whisper back, brushing my hand over his arm. His sexy morning-voice always gets me.
He exhales, eyes searching mine like he’s trying to gauge the damage. “I feel like shit,” he admits, tone quiet but strangely steady. “I know I haven’t been pulling my weight. And I’m sorry I let it go this so long before telling you. I don’t want you feeling like you’re carrying this by yourself. I’m gonna try. I’m gonna make it up to you, Jaine… I swear.”
My fingers trace soft, absent patterns across his chest—part of it comforting him, but most of it grounding myself. “I’m not mad that you lost your job,” I say gently. “That’s life. What hurts is that it took two weeks for you to tell me. I know it’s not easy for guys to talk about their feelings and stuff, but I’m not just your girlfriend—I’m your partner. We’re a team. We have to be transparent with each other. Communication is everything to me. We’re suppose to handle things like this together… not separately.”
His eyes soften immediately. He nods, pulling me closer like he wants the apology to land physically as much as verbally. “I know I should’ve told you sooner. And I’m sorry, baby, I really am. But don’t think I don’t care—because I do. I love you too much not to try. You mean everything to me. I’ll tell you whatever you want to know. I promise I’ll never keep anything from you again.”
His reassurance wrapped in devotion, hits exactly where my doubts live.
I smile faintly, pressing my forehead to his. “Then that’s all I need to hear. We’ll figure it out—together. One day at a time. But until then, just love me and be the caring boyfriend you’ve been. That’s all I want.”
“Anything for you,” he says, kissing my forehead slowly. “I’m so lucky to have you in my life.”
For the first time in days, I feel a flicker of hope—even if a part of me still wonders how long hope can hold us together.
He pulls me against his chest, my body falling right into place and I feel him immediately. His morning wood is already hard, pressing right up against the thin stretch of my pajama shorts. I close my eyes and let myself embrace his warmth, letting the moment wash over me.
My hand drifts down before, fingers brushing over him to find out he’s bare. Completely naked.
He must’ve taken his underwear off in the middle of the night. Because if I’d known he was lying here like this—I probably wouldn’t have made it out of the bed.
I usually sleep naked right beside him. But last night… I couldn’t. I was too bothered, too overwhelmed, too wrapped up in all the lies. So I kept my pajamas on like some thin barrier I hoped would keep my emotions from spilling over. Now it feels like the only thing between us is fabric—and my own stubborn pride.
And both feel paper thin.
I shift closer, my hand trailing his cock, and he lets out a low, unrestrained sound against my mouth—half moan, half surrender. “God, I love you,” he murmurs against my lips, breath warm as he grazes my bottom lip with his tongue unable to stop himself.
Holding his thick length in my hand, I stroke him faster as his breaths pick up—rapid, but still low. My pussy throbs at the way my hand glides up and down his veiny cock while he breathes heavily into my mouth.
I slip my pajama pants down my legs and pull my shirt over my head, tossing it to the floor without a second thought. Heat crawls up my neck as I turn around to see himstanding, shoulders tense, and chest rising, fisting his hard cock. My gaze sweeps over him, lingering where I love him the most, heat building under my skin as I drink him in.
I tilt my head, lips curling into a sinful smile. “Go on, baby… tell me how you want me.”
His smirk deepens, eyes dragging over me like he’s savoring every inch. “Come here, gorgeous. Let me show you everything I’ve been imagining doing to you.”
I feel the slickness between my thighs as I walk over to him. My pussy throbs, my breathing sharp and uneven, my body practically begging from how worked up he’s got me.
Most girls think dicks are ugly, but I find them so damn sexy, especially when they’re hard as a rock. All I can imagine is how good it’ll feel once he’s inside me. I stop inches from him, and his fingers close around my jaw, tilting my face up with a quiet, possessive certainty that makes my pulse jump.
“On your knees,” he breathes, eyes burning. “Squeeze those pretty ass titties together for me like a good girl.”
A whimper slips out of me, soft but impossible to hide, saliva coaxing my mouth, my body reacting on instinct alone. I drag my hands up my torso, squeezing myself together with a slow, teasing press that earns a dark, hungry look from him—one that shoots straight to my pussy throbbing between my legs. The spark between my legs ignites fast, my whole body coming alive under the weight of his stare.
I sink to my knees, letting him see every ounce of want written all over me. My gaze drifts up him, tasting him with my eyes, and the moment our eyes lock—I know I’m sprung over this man.
