Thrusting into her as I come.
I spill every drop.
Fuck.
It's like I haven't come in months.
Every part of me feels good. Relaxed. Spent.
But I need her coming too.
I muffle her with one hand. Slide the other down her torso.
And I stroke her. Harder and harder. Until she's groaning against my palm.
There. I keep that same pressure. That same pace.
I stroke her until she's coming on my hand, groaning against my palm, clutching at the tile.
I keep her pressed against the counter.
And I tilt her head and bring my lips to hers.
And I kiss her like I'll never get enough of her.
Because I won't.
Not ever.
Chapter Thirty-Four
Kaylee
"You sound happy," Grandma says. "Boy problems must be over."
I am happy. At least about the boy problems. The continuing vagueness about her condition—not so much. "It's good. He's... we're good."
"Good how?"
I fall onto my bed on my back. Press my cell to my ear. It's just good. What else is there to explain? "He forgave me and we—"
"Had makeup sex?"
"Grandma! I swear. You're a pervert."
"Everyone's a pervert, Kay-bear. It's just I don't give a fuck about hiding it. You won't either when you're my age."
"Maybe." A lot of my thoughts are about sex. Dirty sex. And so are Brendon's. And Em is always talking about it. And Dean is obviously dirty as hell. "There's merit to that argument."
"I hate to be a parent—"
"Then don't."
"But if your mother finds out about this—"
"I know. But she can't. I can't afford to rent my own place. And she and Dad can't afford to cover my expenses. This is the only way."
"What if it doesn't work out?"