Page 87 of Where the Blacktop Ends

Then in one swift movement, he’s pushing inside, shower head still pressed into my clit on the front. The feeling of being so full, especially when I’m this sensitive from my cycle, is overwhelming. Emotions rush through me. Feelings for Troy that I’ve been trying to deny. Feelings that I know I’ll have to face if he leaves me behind. I’ll be crushed if he wins the race and leaves and despite my original plans to keep things professional, I know what I’m feeling is so much more.

I’m thankful for the water that hides the tears I can’t stop. I shift my face forward so the stream rinses them away before Troy notices.

“I watched your press conference today,” I murmur, my voice trembling as he pulls his hips back and then slides back inside of me easily. I’ve never had sex while on my period before. Everything is extra sensitive and lubricated. His strong hands grip my hips, holding me steady as he thrusts into me again.

“Hm? What did you think?”

“You were amazing. So confident, commanding of everyone’s attention. I don’t know who’s running against you, but there’s no contest. You’ll win.”

His hands slip around to my front, two fingers spreading my pussy wider to take him deeper while his other continues to rub me with the shower head.

“I’ll win because I’m confident and my message resonates with the people in this state, but also because I have people in my life who are supporting me. I couldn’t do this without my team.”

The words hit me like a punch to the chest, knocking the breath from my lungs.

“Oh…”I whisper, barely audible over the steady stream of water cascading around us. The teasing circles on my clit grow harder, rougher as he scrapes the plastic bits against me.

But Troy doesn’t need to hear me to know. His body tells me everything. He picks up the pace, his movements becoming more urgent, more deliberate. His grip tightens on my hips, guiding me as he bends me forward even more, giving him deeper access.

I glance down, the sight between us making heat coil low in my belly. Water, our mixed arousal, and the faint tinge of blood drip between us, mingling as if our bodies are writing their own story. I’ve never been self-conscious about my period—it’s natural, part of being a woman. But right now?

Right now, it makes me feel powerful. In control.Sexy.

“I can’t get enough of you.”His voice is a low growl, thick with need.“Being inside you… it’s a distraction.”

A distraction he doesn’t seem to want to escape.

His thrusts grow faster, deeper, each one pushing me closer to the edge. The sound of our slick bodies fills the space, echoing off the tile like applause—like he’s winning some invisible race and I’m right there with him, urging him on.

I match his rhythm, pushing back to meet every thrust. My body tightens around him, the pressure building until it’s unbearable. The coil snaps, my orgasm crashing over me like a tidal wave, dragging me under. I cry out his name, my legs trembling as he holds me steady, his own release following close behind.

“Fuck…”He groans, his body shuddering as he spills into me, his grip anchoring me as if he’s afraid to let go.

For a moment, we stay like that, bodies connected, breathing hard, the water washing away the evidence of what just happened down the drain.

When I finally stand again, a little unsteady on my feet, Troy doesn’t hesitate. He turns me gently, his touch softer now, more reverent. Without a word, he lathers shampoo into my hair, massaging my scalp with strong, sure fingers. His hands move down my body, tender and thorough, washing away the heat of our passion and being sure I’m clean.

By the time he wraps us both in towels, I’m boneless, my body and heart softened in a way I wasn’t prepared for. But it’s what he does next that steals the air from my lungs.

He kneels, his expression unreadable as he presses a kiss just above my warm navel. Then, with quiet focus, he places a fresh pad in my underwear. The action is so effortless, so natural, that I don’t know whether to cry or kiss him senseless all over again.

“Come on, baby.”His voice is rough as he stands, guiding me toward the bed.

We climb in together, his body warm and solid as he pulls me close. No words are needed. His arms wrap around me tightly.

“Sleep,”he murmurs, his lips brushing against my temple. “I’ve got you.”

“You’re the exception, Troy...” I murmur as he strokes my damp hair.

He chuckles. “I don’t think so. Most men feel the same way that I do. It’s just the immature ones who are loud and vocal.”

“Your siblings were lucky to have you growing up.”

He’s silent for a beat. “I enjoy taking care of my family.”

“You’ve done a lot of kid-raising…” My voice trails off. I want to ask the question, but I’m nervous. “Do you think you’d ever want more kids?”

He’s quiet for a moment, considering. “I love kids. Loved every moment of being a dad and a papa. With you, Georgia, the right woman, I’d love to have more kids.”

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