I wouldn’t stop until he laughed like that again. And again. And again.
I cupped his jaw. “Do you know what soaking is?”
“I speak English, sose.”
My tone was a singsong. “I don’t think you do.”
“It’s to do with liquid.”
“Not in this instance.” When he clucked his tongue, exasperated, I grinned. “You put your dick in me and we lie there.”
He scowled. “That sounds like torture.”
“It’s supposed to be nice.” Well, with a shaker.
“Nice?” he repeated, this time sounding beyond dubious, more like suspicious.
“Honestly, it’s a thing.”
“Since when?” His expression proclaimed,I’ll endure for you, duci. “You won’t move?”
“Not an inch.”
His lips quirked. “Can you sleep that way?”
“Maybe.”
“You’re crazy.”
“Tell me what I don’t already know.”
“Are you being serious right now?!”
“About your dick going in my pussy without you having a meltdown if I groan and you thinking I’m in pain? Hell to the yeah.”
“I don’t want to hurt you, Kitty. You’ve suffered enough through my actions.”
“Let me own this. I know what I want. Honestly, I want more. Ineedmore. I feel like I need to reconnect with you.” My throat bobbed. “I-I don’t believe in soul mates, Stan.”
A wicked smile creased his lips, and the light in his eyes? Oooh, mama. “Until now?”
I scrunched my nose at him. “What I do know is that I’d have kicked anyone else to the curb. You? I can’t. I-I can’t bear the thought of not seeing you every day. Of…” I pushed my forehead against his so I could shut my eyes and hide from him as I confessed, “I shouldn’t tell you.”
“You should. Don’t you know, Kitty? I’m so far all-in that if you did kick me to the curb, I’d wait out there with a boom box?—”
“You’ve watchedSay Anything?” I squeaked.
“Of course! It’s a classic.”
“Oh, my god.” I grabbed his ears and squinted at him. “You might be a psycho but you have the best taste in movies! We need to watch it together on Ma’s massive screen. Only, don’t tell my sisters because they’ll want in on movie night. Neev has the biggest crush on John Cusack. It started inGrosse Point Blank.”
Stan quipped, “Your sister is bizarre.”
“She owns it,” I dismissed, then, timidly, continued, “I’d listen to the music you picked.”
“You want a mix tape?”
“You can save that for the next time you fuck up.”
