Page 33 of Whit

Page List


Font:  

He pinches the bridge of his nose as he calms down. “I am going to ask him to leave.”

“No,” I manage to say, irritated that I’m so turned on and pissed that he’s leaving me hanging.

Whit’s eyes flash up to meet mine. “Why?”

And just because I’m a dick, I say, “Apparently, he likes to be torn up during sex with big cocks. Sounds like fun.”

Whit’s nostrils flare, and his eyes flash with anger.

“I thought you were straight,” he says through clenched teeth.

“Apparently not as straight as I thought,” I mutter and then adjust my cock in my pants.

It’s painful.

Whit whips his eyes from my crotch, and his cheeks flush.

“Don’t have sex with him,” he says, and I push myself off the wall, stalking toward him.

He stumbles back slightly, and I reach out and steady him.

“We’ll see,” I lie because if I’m not fucking anyone, least of all Magnus.

Nowbeingfucked sounded pretty fantastic mere minutes ago, so there’s that.

I adjust myself once more and then open the door and see Magnus sitting there, fidgeting with a bracelet he has around his wrist. His eyes move from Whit to me and then flash to my tented pants.

There's nothing I can do about it, so I plop down next to Magnus and sigh.

“Sorry about that, Mag,” I say and rub at my chest. “Whit was feeling a little possessive.”

Whit shifts on his feet and stares daggers at me.

“We need to pack for the weekend,” Whit says. “You can’t stay long, Magnus.”

“Oh, um, where are you going?” Magnus asks as I hand him a controller for the Xbox.

“We are spending the weekend with his family,” Whit responds. “And we need to leave soon.”

“Nah,” I reply and turn on the Xbox and queue up a game. “We can leave in a few hours. Don’t want to get there too early.”

“You still need to pack,” Whit says, irritated.

“It’ll take me two minutes to pack my shit,” I tell him and then nudge Mag, whose eyes are ping-ponging between me, Whit, and the TV.

“Relax. We have time,” I reassure Whit and then nudge Mag too hard. He hisses, and I pat his head in apology. “Now, little dude, I’m going to kick your ass.”

Magnus’ eyebrows lower, and he squints at me. “I’m fantastic at this game, I’ll have you know.”

“We’ll see,” I reply.

Whit stands there for a minute, watching us before he huffs and disappears into the room without a word.

“He seems upset,” Magnus whispers, not tearing his gaze from the TV.

Heispretty damn good at this game. Not that I’d admit anything to this little dweeb.

“He doesn’t want us fucking,” I reply as I take a critical hit from Magnus, who preens next to me on the couch.


Tags: Cora Rose Romance