And like the casual ass that he is, he puts his hands behind his head and stares up at me.
“If this is what you wanted, babe, you should’ve just asked.”
My teeth grind together and I say, “I was trying to save you.”
“Likely story.”
“I was,” I say, more irritated. “I said I owe you, and that’s what I meant. I was throwing my body at your attacker.”
“You were throwing your body at me.”
I growl and then poke him again.
He pokes me back, this time, lifting my breast while he does it.
“Stop that!” I yell.
“You stop it.”
“I did stop.”
“No, you started it again.”
“Because you’re irritating me.”
“Because you interrupted my man time.”
“Yourman time?” I pause, letting his words sink in, and for some reason—maybe the way he said it, the words he chose—they hit me in a way I wasn’t expecting. I start to giggle.
Then giggle some more.
Then snort.
Then chuckle.
A laugh...
“What’s so fucking funny?”
“You saidman time.”
“So? What do you call it?”
“Not man time.” I laugh some more, the obnoxious, nervous, but alsocan’t control itlaughter.
That causes him to laugh.
Smile lines crease his eyes. Joy overtakes his expression. And then, we’re laughing together, to the point that I roll off his stomach and fall to the ground. I catch him pulling the pillow back over his crotch so I don’t see anything as his chest moves up and down with laughter.
After what seems like forever, I turn toward him and say, “I’m sorry I interrupted yourman time. Next time, can you attempt to not sound like a suffering animal?”
He passes his hands over his eyes. “I’m never going to be able to come again without worrying what I sound like. Thank you for that.”
“You’re welcome.” I sit up and say, “I think we needed this.”
“You walking in on me jacking off?” he asks with humor.
“No, not that per se, just a moment of levity to break up the tension.”
