Page 29 of Susie's Orc

She interrupts me with a laugh, shaking her head as she pulls away. “I think we’re both to blame for that.”

She’s not wrong, but it still doesn’t sit right with me that she came here, to my home, and I didn’t have the decency to slow down and be a good host.

Susie sits up in bed, holding the sheet to her chest, and smiles down at me. “I don’t really, uh, feel like going out anywhere. Not after… all of that. Maybe we could order something in?”

A gorgeous blush climbs her cheeks.

“All of that?” I can’t help but tease her, a shot of desire pounding through me when I remember how well she’s always responded to a bit of sensual taunting, a reminder of the earthy, carnal connection we share and how I never want her to shy away from it. “You mean, after how well you took my cock? How rough you let me fuck you?”

She swallows hard. “Yeah, that.” That blush of hers deepens, the scent of her arousal blooms, but she shakes her head. “And since I’m not sure I’m going to be able to wait long for round two, maybe we could—”

“I… I’ve got dinner,” I mutter, feeling the creep of a blush on my own cheeks, the reminder that I still need to properly care for her, and shove all thoughts ofround twoaside. “I was planning to make this an actual date. You know, before you jumped me and derailed those plans.”

I’m not sure where the embarrassment is still coming from, this deep desire to be earnest and affectionate and caring with her, to make myself vulnerable with her when I’m so out of practice.

Any momentary discomfort evaporates in a second, though, when a wide, beautiful grin spreads across her lips.

“That sounds wonderful.”

We end up back in my living room, cuddled together on the couch with our empty plates on the coffee table after we polished off our servings of the pasta I ordered before she came over.

Susie’s wearing the shirt I had on earlier, and I didn’t bother grabbing another one, opting instead to pull on a pair of sweats and call it good. It leaves me bare-chested, and though a fewfaint stirrings of that same old shame and the self-conscious urge to cover up still threaten to creep back in, I manage to keep them at bay.

It’s not all that hard to do, especially when Susie nestles into me and lays her cheek against my chest, brushing little kisses against my skin and letting out a happy, contented sigh when I wrap my arm around her and pull her close.

We talk about my trip home and her week at the Bureau. We make plans to go see a movie this week. It’s easy and natural and effortless, the exhale of the breath I’ve been holding for two years.

Even though it’s just the beginning and we still barely know each other, all things considered, something about it also feels… permanent. Like this night could be happening right now or next month or ten years from now.

Not that I want to hurry us up or miss any of the getting to know her along the way. I don’t want to take a single second for granted.

Especially when Susie shifts against me, and I glance down into the open vee of my shirt’s collar—the one she oh-so-helpfully left unbuttoned down to the tops of her breasts. I shift, too, suddenly and painfully aware of the heat of her body against mine, the press of her cheek where it rests against my chest, the slight swell of her tits against my side, and the way the shirt has ridden up to the tops of her thighs.

She glances down at my lap and lets out an amused little snort.

“What?” I ask.

“You knew what you were doing, didn’t you?”

I don’t know what to make of the question or of her raised, teasing brow, at least not until I follow her gaze down to my lap. The gray sweats I’m wearing aren’t doing a whole hell of a lot to disguise the half-erection I’ve been sporting ever since we satdown and she scooted up next to me, quickly moving into full-erection territory.

I might be embarrassed about it, if it weren’t for the way Susie’s eyes have gone all half-hooded and hungry, mischievous as her fingers drift from my knee to my thigh, higher, brushing against the ridge of my cock. A strangled groan catches in the back of my throat as her grip tightens and she strokes me once, twice, glancing up from under lowered lashes to watch herself unravel me.

“Fuck, baby,” I breathe, eyes drifting shut. “That feels so…”

My words trail off when I realize her teasing strokes have stopped. I peel my eyes open and find her looking at me, gaze widened with surprise, a blush spreading up her cheeks.

“What?” I ask, stomach dropping.

“Baby,” she whispers, then shakes her head. “I…”

Shit.

It was really weird to just drop a nickname on her, wasn’t it? I think I said it while I was fucking her, too, though it’s pretty damn hard to remember anything I might have inadvertently let slip while I had my cock in her.

I immediately try to backtrack. “Don’t like it? I won’t call you that if—”

She shakes her head again, more adamant this time as that impossibly adorable blush continues to stain her cheeks and neck.

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