Page 27 of The No Touch Roommate Rule
Forty-five Mississippi. Forty-six Mississippi.
My cock is so hard it’s punching through my zipper. Every time I shift, the canvas of my shorts rubs against it in the most exquisitely torturous way. This is what I get for not jerking off this morning. I thought I was being noble, trying to break the cycle of spanking it to thoughts of Makena’s little lace panties and fine ass in yoga pants and how sexy she is when she cooks.
Turns out I was just setting myself up for an embarrassing as hell walk across a crowded bar. But I have my raincoat. I can tie it around my waist before I grab my crutches, assuming I’m not able to get a fucking grip on the erection situation in the next minute.
Seventy-three Mississippi. Seventy-four Mississippi.
Still, this isn’t without risk…
What if this ruins everything? What if we start to hook up and she runs away again? But this time she has nowhere to runto except home to my house, so things get very fucking awkward, very fucking quick?
Or worse, what if she leaves?
What if she takes Elly up on that offer to stay at her and Grammercy’s empty place until they get back from their honeymoon (and afterwards, if she needs it)? What if a drunken night of breaking the rules is all it takes to make it abundantly clear to Makena that she actuallydoeshave other places to go?
And then she goes to one of them, and I never see her again?
Ninety-six Mississippi. Ninety-seven Mississippi.
No. Stop. My dick is a champion, who is going to take my girl to previously unexperienced heights of pleasure.
My dick, when properly motivated, has sorcerer-like powers.
My dick is a marvel of genetic engineering.
My dick has won major awards.
Okay, not really, but I’ve had zero complaints about it, and even Kayley, my ex with the giant boobs who thought I was gross for wanting to talk about my feelings, was sad when this dick was in her rearview. She slid into my DMs for months after, begging for a good “friends with bennies” fucking, until I finally blocked her.
Because my dick also has a healthy level of self-respect.
And he really liked hearing Makena say he was precious…
Or thatIwas precious.
Same difference. My dick and I are literally inseparable.
One hundred Mississippi. One hundred one Mississippi.
It’s time, and the raincoat isn’t needed.
I’ve regained control—a thing that will evaporate as soon as I’m within six feet of Makena again. But that’s just fucking fine.
I was invited to join her in the family bathroom.
My knee throbs a little as I stand and fetch my crutches, reminding me that I’m technically injured. But that’s not aboutto stop me. I can still give Makena everything she wants, everything she needs.
And I’m going to go do just that.
One hundred twenty Mississippi.
Right now.
I launch into motion, weaving through the crowd, moving faster on my crutches than I have all week. I barrel past the stage where Melody is finishing her stunning tribute to Prince, past the end of the line for the mechanical bull, and down a hallway that definitely violates several health codes.
The family bathroom door at the end is a work of art.
And by art, I mean someone’s fever dream fingerpainting after doing too much peyote. There’s a family of trippy-looking possums painted on it, but one of them has human teeth and another might be holding a knife.
