She pushes me with both hands on my chest but I don’t move at first, unwilling to be away from her heat and soft body.
“I have to pee, first.”
“Oh shit.”
I press onto my hands and untangle myself from her. When my cock slips out, I look down, mesmerised by the traces of us we left behind. I gather our cum with my fingers and push it back in, and Lucie’s back arches, a soft groan leaving her. “Stop, I’m so sensitive.”
Reluctantly, I climb off the bed and on shaky legs, I walk her to the bathroom where Biscuit is going crazy, yapping like the little demon she is.
“I’ll take her out,” I tell Lucie as I throw on my pants, commando underneath, and grab my dog in my hand.
“But you’ll be back. Right?”
Lucie’s expression is so earnest. Even if it’s what I hoped she’d say, or something along those lines, asking me to stay strikes me right in the black organ that serves as a heart in my ribcage.
“Yeah, Lu. I’ll be back. When you’re ready, come to the living room. I’ll cook something for us. I’ll listen if you’re up to talking to me.”
“It’s really not that interesting.”
“Everything about you fascinates me,ružica moja.”
After I take Biscuit outside, I don’t wait long to come back to Lucie’s side. Mina sure shows me as much contempt as shecan as I pass by her in the living room but I pay her no mind. If anything, I’m glad Lucie has a fierce friend by her side, ready to defend her and go to battle for her.
“You know,” I address her casually as she pets Biscuits’s head. “If I were looking to escape the Irish mafia, I’d go where they’d never look.”
“And where is that?” Mina asks.
Her and Lucie have the same sassy attitude when they think they know better. It’s cute.
“The mother country.”
I let her draw her own conclusions and march back into Lucie’s bedroom.
My girl is dressed again, and I immediately want to get rid of the frilly lounge set with my teeth. She throws on a fluffy robe on top, and we move to the large kitchen area. I’m no cook but I can make a mean marinara.
Biscuit makes a home on one of the pillows discarded on the floor and I kiss her little head, leaving her behind.
Lucie slides her hand in mine, threading our fingers together and I swallow, heart in my throat. It’s so nice. Intimate. Maybe even more so than when we had sex. I don’t understand how that’s possible. When I look down, Lucie’s smile is bashful and pride surges through me. She decided I was worthy of that small attention and I couldn’t be happier.
“Sit down, Lu.”
I kiss her forehead, lingering to take in the smell of her shampoo and the very faint traces ofmeon her skin. She relaxes and sits at a high chair at the bar area, set up just in front of the stove. I turn my back on her while I cook, giving her the opportunity to talk about those scars of hers.
They’re so deep. Like she cut herself over and over at the same spot for years, never letting them heal fully.
A bottle of white wine is open in the fridge and I pour a glass each, then hand one to her. Our eyes collide as we clink them together, and my cock twitches. Any time I look at her, I get hard. She’s so damn beautiful and captivating. My body has a mind of its own, but I refuse to listen to it right now. She needs a container for how she feels, how shefelt
I turn around again and hear her take a big gulp of wine.
“My parents died when I was twelve. And I… I wasn’t a good kid. I was difficult. Angry all the time. They were busy doing what adults in the mafia do. And I felt lonely I guess.”
She pauses. It’s hard to concentrate on the tomatoes while she offers me that piece of her. It’s so monumental. But once she opens the valves, there’s no stopping her.
“The night they died, I told them I hated them,” she chokes. “The last words I said to my parents were words of hate and anger.”
A sobs escapes her and I drop the knife, wipe my hands on a clean kitchen towel before making my way to her side in a few steps. I don’t wait for her to tell me she needs me. I wrap her into my arms, surround her with my strength.
Tears soak my tee-shirt. And words keep flowing out of her.
