Page 105 of Text Me Baby One More Time

That’s the only way to explain the way the universe kept pushing us together.

I drop my hands to the belt on his waist, the clinking of the metal as I unbuckle it echoing off the walls like gunshots in the otherwise quiet closet.

“Tell me you have a condom, Shep.”

Without another word, he pulls his wallet from his back pocket, producing a foil packet.

“Thank god.”

“I’m about 9% certain you can’t talk about God during sex.”

I shove his pants and tight black boxer briefs down his hips, curling my hand around his cock once it’s free.

His eyes fall shut as he sags forward, catching himself with one hand against the door as I work him over.

“Oh fuck,” he groans. “I don’t think you can keep doing that, Den. I’m already too close.”

“Then do something about it.”

He grins and says, “Only if you go back out there and tell those girls my cock isdefinitelybigger than three inches.”

I stroke him again. Another groan.

“Shep?”

“Yeah?”

“Shut up and fuck me.”

He uses his teeth to rip the condom open then covers himself within seconds.

Before I know it, he’s wrapping my leg around his hip and thrusting into me in one swift move.

“Shiiiiiiiiiiiiit.” He draws the word out on a hiss.

I wrap my hands around his head, threading my fingers through his hair and holding on as he pumps in and out of me at a pace that’s going to ensure neither of us last very long.

Good. We can save the soft and slow for later.

“Holy shit. This is better than I could have imagined.” He drops his forehead to mine, brushing soft kisses against my lips. “Have you ever thought about us, Denny? About what it would be like for me to be inside you?”

“Y-Yes.”

“And what you imagined—was it better than this?”

“Yes.”

He pulls back, still thrusting inside me. “Why?”

My shoulder blades press against the door and I know it’s going to leave a bruise, but I don’t care. Despite my answer to his question, I wouldn’t trade this for anything.

“Because you loved me.”

His movements stop, and I hate that he stops. His fingers collide with my face, pulling my attention to his. It’s dark in the closet, but our eyes have adjusted enough for me to know he’s staring at me with pain and desire and confusion in his expression.

I’m giving it all right back to him.

After what feels like a lifetime, he drops his forehead back to mine and pumps into me harder than ever, and I love every goddamn second of it.

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