34. Chapter 34
Chapter 34
When David woke up the next morning, it was to find that he and Paige were still curled up together, and still very naked. He’d held and comforted her for almost an hour last night before she’d finally fallen asleep, and then he’d lain there, too jacked up from the best sex of his life.
Bar none.
He kept replaying the moment when she’d covered his fingers with hers and they’d both brought her to an explosive orgasm. She hadn’t been exaggerating when she’d said it was perfection. It had been, and now that they’d experienced it, nothing short of experiencing it for the rest of their lives was going to be good enough—for either of them. He just had to make Paige want it and need it as much as he did, which he believed he could do, then get her to give in to it.
The only thing that gave him pause and made him question his chances for success, was Jacob. If Paige was going to resist anything, it was going to be the little boy, and David’s biggest challenge might be figuring out how to overcome that.
He just needed a little bit of time to solidify their newly erected foundation. A month of amazing sex—maybe two to make sure—and then he figured he and Paige could have a serious discussion about their future.
Just then, Paige stirred and stretched, and from his vantage point behind her, he was able to see her breasts rise, which made him rise.
“What time is it?” she asked, noting her bedroom was light, but not too light.
“I don’t know.”
She reached over to check the time on her phone. It was a little after 8 a.m., and since she didn’t have to be at work until 4 p.m., she tossed her phone back on her nightstand and promptly quit giving a shit what time it was.
“How are you feeling?” he wanted to know, as she settled back against him.
“I’m okay,” she replied, knowing he was inquiring about her mental state following the mini-meltdown the night before, and not her physical well-being.
“Just okay?”
“I’m good, actually.”
He turned her head so that he could see her face. She appeared to be telling the truth, but he wanted to make sure. “Really? You look like you’re thinking deep thoughts.”
“Well, I wouldn’t say they’re deep, but I am thinking about jumping your bones right now.”
That perked him right up, and also relieved the hell out of him. “Why don’t you quit thinking about it and do it? I’m willing to have my bones jumped.”
Paige pushed the covers aside and started to get out of bed.
“Um, where are you going?” he asked. “My bones are this way.”
“To brush my teeth. I have morning breath.”
As if he cared about that. “So do I. Which means we cancel each other out.”
“Yeah, no.” She started to get up again. “That’s not really what it means.”
He pulled her back. “How about if I jump your bones, instead? From behind … so there’s no morning breath issue.”
She could see absolutely no downside to that suggestion. “You’re on.”
This time, he had her laying mostly flat on the bed, with a pillow underneath her stomach, raising her just enough so there was room for her hand to get where it needed to be. Then, he moved one of her legs up and to the side and settled in, gaining entry with ease. He found that he liked this modified position very much—being able to blanket her body with his, even if it was from the back, made it more intimate.
It also made it … sweatier. By the time they had both finished, with Paige coming just before David again, their connective body parts were fairly slick and hot, and they were both breathing hard.
“So, that happened again,” she murmured into the mattress.
“Yes, it did. And we’re going to try and make that happen in as many positions as possible.”
She turned her head and blinked at him, still suspended in her post-coitus haze. “We are?”
“Absolutely.”
He kissed her damp temple, and then with regret slowly eased out of her, getting them both a little dirty in the process.
“I know men supposedly only ejaculate a tablespoon of semen, or whatever,” she said, as she moved the pillow out from underneath her, “but—”
“Wait. How is that something you know?”
“I looked it up.”
He chuckled softly, picturing Paige googling ‘ejaculation amounts’. “Why?”
“Why do you think? Because I was curious. It always seems like you come by the gallon, so—”
“Jesus, I don’t come by the gallon,” he protested, laughing. “That’s a bit of an exaggeration, don’t you think?”
“No, I don’t think. Especially not when semen is dripping down my leg for ten minutes after sex. Or, when I’m swallowing—” she broke off because he was laughing harder, and his sweaty, clenching abs distracted her. Jerk.
He got himself under control and cleared his throat. “Speaking of ejaculation amounts … did you know that’s where the rock groups 10cc and The Lovin’ Spoonful got the inspiration for their names?”
She was about to comment about men and their preoccupation with all things related to their cocks, when the sound of her front door opening and closing stopped her.
“I brought breakfast!” Jules called out.
Startled, David stared at Paige, eyes wide. “What the fuck is—”
She clapped a hand over his mouth. “Shh. Be quiet. She has ears like a bat.”
“What the fuck is she doing here?” he whispered, after pulling her hand off. “Not to mention at the crack of dawn.”
“It’s actually only the crack of dawn for you,” she whispered back. “And she brought breakfast.”
“Were you expecting her?”
“Not today, no.”
“I take it she’s done this before?”
“A few times. But we didn’t have anything planned for this morning.”
“How did she get in?”
“She has a key.”
“Why?”
“I don’t know. Maybe she used a bar of soap to make an impression of my key, then had a copy made without my knowledge,” she answered, heavy on the sarcasm.
He just looked at her.
“Obviously, I gave her one,” she said.
“You could’ve just said that to begin with,” he grumbled, then rubbed at his face. “Jesus, I don’t think I can handle her this early. Actually, I know I can’t.”
Paige didn’t know if she could, either, to be honest, but she knew she wasn’t going to have a choice.
“Paige?” Jules called, this time sounding like she was closer, possibly in the hallway.
David pointed at the open bedroom door and semi-pushed Paige out of bed, the only way he could non-verbally convey that she needed to immediately jump into some kind of action.
“Yeah,” Paige called back, while making a face at David for her near face plant. “I’ll be out in a minute.”
“You have to get rid of her,” he hissed.
The last thing she wanted was for Jules to know he was even here, so Paige was in total agreement with him. “I will.”
She looked around on the floor for her panties, then inwardly groaned at the unmistakable feel of semen leaking out and trailing down the insides of her thighs. “For God’s sake,” she muttered, grabbing the first thing she saw and using it to quickly wipe between her legs, uncaring that David was watching her.
“That’s my shirt,” he pointed out.
She paused to look, and when she saw that it was, indeed, the polo shirt he’d been wearing the night before, Paige shrugged and continued to wipe down her inner thighs with it. Since he was the reason she was dripping like a leaky faucet, it seemed sort of fitting, but she prided herself on being a nice person, so when she was done, she tossed it on top of her hamper and made a mental note to wash it before he went home.
David must have thought she was dawdling because he waved his hands in the universal Hurry up motion. She pulled on her panties, followed by the terry cloth robe Sputnik had been laying on (and who protested when he got picked up and set on the ground), then headed toward the door. As she passed the full-length mirror that leaned against the wall and stopped in shock at how rough she looked, he almost yelled, “You don’t have time for that. You need to go before she comes looking for you.”
She gave him a hard look, because it wasn’t fair that he got to stay in here and hide. “I can’t go out there like this.”
“You have to. Now, go.”
“You know what? I don’t like you very much right now.”
David jabbed a finger in the direction of the kitchen, where the sounds of the toaster being used could be heard. “Jules is the problem here, not me. So get rid of the problem and then come back to bed,” he said, before adding, “Oh, and bring me some of whatever she brought for you guys to eat. I’m starving.”
Reluctantly, Paige shuffled down the hallway with Sputnik on her heels. At the doorway to the kitchen, she paused and took a deep breath before stepping into the brightly lit space to find Jules at the island, in the process of spreading cream cheese on a freshly toasted bagel. A large container of strawberries and a small container of strawberry flavored whipped cream had been set out, along with plates and silverware. There were also two go-cups from Starbucks, one with Paige’s name on it and a sticker that labeled the contents as a caramel macchiato with whole milk. Seeing the effort that had been put into their breakfast, she couldn’t help but feel somewhat guilty—Jules was doing a good job here, but Paige was determined to get rid of her friend as soon as possible.
“This is a surprise,” Paige said to Jules’s back, as she picked up her coffee and took a drink.
“It was an impulse,” Jules explained. Then, with a nod toward the strawberry whipped cream, she added, “I got that awful pink shit you like to dip your fruit in.”
“It’s not pink shit, it’s pink fluff,” Paige corrected her, grabbing a strawberry and dipping it in the whipped cream, before popping it in her mouth. “And it’s delicious, which you would know if you ever quit passing judgment on it long enough to try it.”
Jules glanced over to roll her eyes at Paige, but stopped as she took in Paige’s disheveled appearance and frowned, instead. “Why do you look like you’ve just had sweaty, needy, mind-blowing sex?”
Paige almost spit out the strawberry. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Why would you ask me that?”
“Because you look like you just had sweaty, needy, mind-blowing sex, obviously. Why else would I ask?”
“Um … I don’t know.”
“Well, did you?”
“No.” Paige tried to smooth her hair a little bit. “This is just what I look like first thing in the morning.”
“Wrong. You’ve never looked like this first thing in the morning—and I’ve known you for like a hundred years.”
Paige gave a dismissive shrug. “Whatever. Can we please talk about something else?”
“Sure. After you answer my question ... without lying to me this time. Did you, or did you not just have sweaty, needy, mind-blowing sex?”
“Yes!” David yelled from the bedroom. “She just had sweaty, needy, mind-blowing sex!”