20
Audra
We went at it more times than I could count that night. One orgasm rolled into another. Each kiss warming my heart even more.
Yesterday, Saturday, we slept most of the day. We'd wake up and fuck lazily. There was no urgency, no hesitancy, no desperation. Just us coming together to enjoy one another, then spooning as we slept.
It would be so easy to get used to this. But this is Derrick Pierce. While I may be different for him, I don't imagine this going long-term. He's not made that way. A month, two max, and he'll get bored and move on while I fall apart.
It's Sunday and we've just had some amazing shower sex. We step out of the steamy compartment when I smell bacon.
Derrick hangs his head. I'm the opposite. I perk up.
"Is that bacon?" I ask cheerfully.
Derrick nods. "It's also Mark and, likely, Alex."
"If he's cooking bacon and breakfast, he's forgiven for intruding."
Derrick frowns. "He's not forgiven."
I throw on clean t-shirt he hands me and it feels so soft I want to sink into it. I go back to the bathroom and grab the robe, covering myself so the idiots can't get a peek.
Derrick frowns harder. "That's why he's not forgiven. You're covered. I like naked."
I stand on tip toes and pull his head down to meet my lips. "I'll make it up to you when they leave. I'll stay naked the rest of the day."
He's still frowning. I snicker, grab his hand, and pull him with me into the kitchen.
Mark's wearing a frilly apron and a chef's hat. A laugh bubbles out of me and Mark points at me with his spatula. "Do not make fun of the chef." He points to his hat where it says Chef in pink with daisies surrounding it to match his apron.
"You look ridiculous," Derrick tells him.
"My sister, Greta, got me this. I wear it with pride," Mark informs me.
"I didn't know you had a sister."
He nods. "She's fourteen. Dad's second marriage which, thank fuck, is much better than the first." He pulls out his wallet and shows me a picture of a smiling brunette girl who's gorgeous.
"She's beautiful."
He sighs. "She worries me."
I lift a brow. "Why's that?"
"She got her period," he says me like it's some sort of death sentence.
"And? She's a woman now."
He points at me with the spatula again. "There it is. Right there."
"She's gotta grow up sometime, Mark," I remind him.
"She can. In another ten years."
I snicker. "I hate to tell you, she'll have graduated college by then."
"Stop. Right now, stop." He rests a hand over his heart. "I can't handle that."
