Page 36 of Loud Hot Roomie
He’s not the only one who can use that word.
“I like it better when you call me hubby,” he murmurs. “Can I sleep here tonight?”
That’s what he was worried about?
I laugh and laugh and laugh, which has him scowling at me. Finally, I grip his jaw and kiss his sexy mouth. “I think it’s funny you thought you were sleeping anywhere but my bed ever again.”
“Fuck, you’re intense.”
“You can talk later,hubby. Right now you’re going to keep quiet while I fuck your brains out. Got it?”
At a loss for words, he can only nod.
“Good boy,” I praise as I drive harder into him. “My good, good boy.”
Riko
I’m obsessed with this man.
It’s embarrassing, really, but I’m not alone. When not at work, Derek can’t keep his hands off me. Now that we had penetrative sex, he’s like an animal who can’t get enough. The other night, he fucked me in the shower, and I broke the showerhead by hanging onto it while he railed into me.
Luckily, he’s buddies with our landlord and it’s already been fixed.
Each day of bliss blurs into the next. It’s easy to pretend I’m his little house husband who cooks for him and waits with bated breath until he comes home each day. At least, that’s been our happy routine for nearly two weeks.
Next week, though, the honeymoon phase will be over. I start with my very first client. It’s helping an eighth-grade kid level up his game so he can try out for the high school soccer team next year. I’m going to be working with him three afternoons out of the week. To celebrate my first gig, Derek says he’s bringing me home a surprise.
I hope it’s more cookies.
That man is going to make me fat.
When I hear the front door open, I abandon my post by the crockpot where I have a roast cooking, and hightail it to greet Derek. He’s handsome as ever in his brown uniform. Like the freak I am, I fling myself at him and inhale his pungent scent. The man sweats all day in that truck, and might be a little ripeto most people, but I love his musky scent. It makes me want to lick him.
“You just licked me,” Derek says, a grin in his voice as he hugs me tight. “You’re such a weirdo.”
“Not my fault you come in here looking and tasting like a snack.”
He pulls me away so he can look at me. Sometimes the intense way in which he stares at me prods at the deepest places in my heart. It feels dangerous but I can’t stop it. I want him probing away, shining his light in all the dark crevices I’ve always kept hidden.
“I missed you,” he murmurs before crashing his lips to mine.
I kiss him deeply until we’re both hard and grinding against one another. Finally, I pull away and shake my head when his stomach growls.
“You’re hungry. Go shower.”
He grunts, gripping my shirt and tugging me closer. “Hungry for you.”
“You can have me after we fill you belly. My man needs his protein.”
There’s a second or two I worry he’ll ignore his grumbling stomach to blow me—which wouldn’t hurt my feelings at all—but I’m glad when he kisses me before thundering up the stairs. I hurry to the kitchen to warm up the hoagies and melt the cheese for our French dip sandwiches. By the time he returns, smelling like my body wash, I’ve plated our meals and am grabbing the beer.
“This looks incredible,” he praises as he sits down across from me. “You are amazing.”
Says the man who’s wearing athletic pants and no shirt. Forget the sandwich. I’d rather suck on his pebbled nipples until he begs me to put my tongue other places.
“You’re drooling,” he teases. “Eat up, hubby. You’ll need your energy for later.”
That’s no lie. For someone twice my age, the man has stamina. I think running packages all over the place keeps him in tip-top shape. I’m certainly not complaining.
