“That’s gonna be fun,” I grumble as I, on the other hand, do break out into a sweat with my massive coat on and the gazillion steps. “At least you’re here to be my porter.”
He shoots me a sleepy smirk. “I can come back at the end of your stay. I offer personalized porter services.”
“You do? I like the sound of that.” I grin as we step into my home for the next six weeks.
It’s super small, definitelycozy.A bed, a desk, a fan and a portable radiator, but at least it has a private bath.
“You’ll be sharing a kitchen?”
“Yup.”
“We’ll get you set up before I go, okay?”
The puppy-dog look is in his eyes even as he mentions the words ‘before I go.’ But it’s not aggressive. Like, he’s not trying to make me feel bad for wanting to be so far away from him. He’s just sad we won’t be together.
I throw my arms around his neck and hold him close. “I’m going to miss you.”
“No, you’re not,” he half-teases, running the tip of his nose along the line of my jaw. “You’ll have a blast. You’re going to love it, and in twenty years’ time, when I’m retired, you’re going to make us move here. I can already feel it in my bones from how you were going gaga over everything during the cab ride.”
I mock-gasp, even though hisdeclaration—because what was that if not a goddamn declaration?!—is pretty spot on. “I thought you were sleeping!”
“I was. But your sighs woke me up. I’m used to hearing them when you’re exploding around my dick, gorgeous. There you were, wasting them on a fountain. Definitely not the type of squirting I’m used to from you.”
I burst out with happy laughter, then I squeal as he twirls me around in the match box that’s my new room.
When he puts me down, his smile fades a touch. “Denny?”
“Yes, babe.”
His gaze drops to my mouth. “I’ve played the field a lot.”
“Ya don’t say,” I joke.
“I know what sex is like with different people. I-I-I know how shitty it is by comparison to being with you and that magical place you call your pussy?—”
“Zach!”
“Honestly, the happiest place on earth isn’t in Orlando?—”
I shove my hand over his mouth. “Shut. Up.”
The unholy gleam in his eye has me squirming in his hold. Then I yelp when he presses his tongue to my palm.
“I need to get this out because I’m not sure I can be this generous again, baby,” he admits as he presses his forehead to mine. “The idea of you sleeping with someone else makes me want to find Dyers just so I can use him as a punching bag,butif, while you’re over here…”
“We talked about this. I don’t need a hall pass,” I say immediately.
“You might.”
“No, I?—”
“You might! This is a whole new experience. This is… Yes, this was your mom’s idea, but that’s because she knows you too well. You’re going to thrive here. I can already tell. If you… If…” He grits his teeth. “I wantyou to be happy. I want you to have fun. And you need freedom to do that, but what have I taught you?”
“To expect three orgasms minimum and to be carried around if I'm drunk?”
“Exactly. Don’t settle for less. Not when you are the best,” he tacks on, messing around even though I know he’s both deadly serious and inliteralpain for making this offer.
But that he’s brought this up twice now has me wondering where his head is at.
