The next time I wake, I lift my head only to realize it’s been in Adam’s lap and he’s stroking my hair. OK, so he’s officially cute now.
What the hell?
I drift into consciousness as I take in the enormous bulge right beside my face. My pussy gives a feeble flutter, but he wrung me out so well I honestly don’t know if I’ve got another orgasm in me just yet.
“You’re awake.”
Feeling a little guilty, I run my hand up his thigh. “You sure you don’t want me to help you out with that?”
He sucks in a breath as my fingers skate the crease of his thigh, brushing his balls beneath the briefs he must have put on before he got back into bed. “Fuck! You’re making it hard to say no. I’m just going off a hunch here that this is gonna be good for me.”
I’m a little mesmerized by his fingers in my hair, not gonna lie, so I don’t complain.
The next thing he says takes me completely off guard. “If you’re not working today, I thought we could ring that therapist back and see if she has time to meet with us.”
I raise my head again to look at him carefully. “Ah, why?”
“Well, things have been going well, but I think you were right when you said I’ve got some stuff to work on. And you’re worth it, Jen.”
I look up at his hopeful puppy dog expression and wince. How have I turned into the asshole here? I thought Adam was all about sex with no strings. I sit and pull up the duvet to cover my chest. “Adam, don’t take this the wrong way, but I just need to be clear with you. This,” I gesture between us with a finger, “doesn’t mean we’re getting back together. You know that, right?”
“Oh.” His face falls. “I thought…”
It feels a little hard to breathe. I place a hand on his arm. “Hey, don’t get me wrong, I’m having a good time, and I’m glad you seem to have…” I search for a way to saygrown upwithout being mean.
Adam frowns. “You said it yourself. I belong inside you, Jen. That has to mean something.”
I gape at him. “That’s just talk. Filthy-hot dirty talk, but just talk, Adam. Just words.”
All of a sudden he pushes me back against the pillows and his hips are over mine, hard cock grinding against my oversensitive pussy.
I gasp.
“Is this just talk, Jen? The way I’m only hard for you. What about the way it feels inside you, hmm?”
I shudder, and despite myself I’m wet all over again and my legs long to wrap around his hips. I push him off, climbing out of bed, hot and flustered and frustrated. “That’s just physical, Adam. We might be good in bed, but have you forgotten how much we fight all the time? I can’t do that again.” Throwing on some tights and a sports bra, I pull my hair into a knot at the top of my head. “I’m going out for a walk to clear my head. Please don’t keep pushing. You’ll only ruin the next three days. I was looking forward to being friends.”
He rolls onto his back, cock still jutting up like a fucking elephant in the room. “So maybe that’s why we need therapy,” he murmurs.
God damn it, he’s all cute and sad and his straining cock is calling me like I’m Batman and the city needs saving. Again.
I turn away and shove my feet into my sneakers so I don’t give in to him. “I can’t do this.”
Even after walking for ten minutes I’m still trying to push aside images of the way his dick twitched inside his briefs and concentrate on why I really, really shouldn’t be giving my zombie ex-boyfriend another chance.
We fight all the time, and I mean all the time. And I watched what that did to us. He might think it’s fun now, but toward the end of our relationship, he was avoiding me as much as I was avoiding him.
Maybe he has a point about therapy, but the therapist would have to be a miracle worker.
A little voice inside my head whispers that a lot of the things I used to get angry about are things he seems to have changed, like the fact that he never used to do anything around the house, or the fact that he never used to notice when I did. Chances arethat once he goes back to work and we fall into the routine of life that would all start creeping back again, though. He’s suffered a big shock. No wonder he’s reeling. I can’t expect these changes to last.
And then there’s the whole zombie thing. Though, when I think about it, I am only seeing advantages to that.
The corners of my mouth threaten to curve into a smile when I remember the heady feeling of having his stolen cock stashed in my handbag all day and his increasingly cute and desperate messages.
Yeah, OK. There are definitely advantages to his new situation. It still bothers me that we both know so little about it. What if the curse only lasts a month and then…
What if we cure it and he’s not a zombie anymore, he’s just dead?
