“Participation trophy,” she mutters.
“If I had known,” I rasp as she continues to press hard on my cock, “that this was the trophy, I wouldn’t have slept last night.”
Her hand inches along the band of my briefs, and I hold my breath until she reaches inside and grips me.
“Shit, shit, shit,” I nearly come off the bed. “I’m so sensitive.”
She strokes up and down. “At least you weren’t lying about being big.”
“Never lie about dick size,” I say through clenched teeth. “They’ll always find out anyway.” I open my eyes and stare down at her. She’s not looking at my dick; she’s looking at me. “Your hand feels like torture.”
“Imagine what my mouth would feel like,” she teases, her eyes sleepy.
“Fuck!” I fall apart all over her hand as if I’m twelve.
And all it took was her staring at me, stroking me, then mentioning her mouth.
I’m a panting, sticky mess.
She releases me and smiles up at me. “Thanks for keeping the mattress equal.”
“Any day, night, afternoon, brunch, I’m your guy,” I whisper, wanting to kiss her so badly.
Instead, I pull off my shirt, wipe off her hand, and clean up. She doesn’t seem to mind at all, though, and lays back down next to me, so I toss my shirt to the bedroom floor and do the same.
Soon she’s lying on my chest, and I’m pretending that this is normal, that we have a cease-fire after all the hell we’ve been through.
I pretend she’s more than a partner, but mine.
Soon both of us fall asleep.
Only to wake up to the sound of the doorbell.
“The hell?” I jolt awake, then look at my phone. “Oh shit! Up, up, up! We have to get up!”
Ivy startles awake, then slaps me across the face.
“What the hell, Ivy!”
“You scared me! I thought you were an intruder, and I had a dream about—” She looks over at my discarded shirt, then back at me. “Never mind.”
“Not a dream; that was reality,” I point out. “Now get your ass out of bed. We’re going to be late!”
“You’re welcome for the hand job!” She sticks out her tongue.
“Trust me, I could have died happy, but we have to compete, remember?”
Her eyes narrow as she jumps out of bed, and my eyes can’t decide if we should stare at her ass or just squeeze shut, so we aren’t tempted.
“Back to enemies?” She crosses her arms, and her breasts could not look more perky if they tried. “Hey, eyes up here!”
“Sorry!” I shake my head. “It’s just they’re right there, and I have eyes!”
She looks down at my dick. “Sorry, it’s just right there, and I have eyes.”
“Touché,” I grumble and do a slow turn. “Look, I’ll get the door, you find some protein bars or something, and we’ll meet in the kitchen.”
“Fine.” She rolls her eyes.
“Fine.” I mimic her voice and then nearly trip over my own feet as I run into the living room and pull open the door.
Dustin stands there in a blue shirt, polka dot tie, and jeans. “You’re going to be late.”
“I know; we’re hurrying.” I run my hands through my hair as he looks past me and then back at me. “Isn’t this Ivy’s apartment?”
“Yep, be down in a few; thanks bye!” I shove the door in his face, panicking a bit as Ivy runs down the hall in black joggers and a matching sweatshirt. She grabs her slides by the door and then goes into the kitchen.
“Protein bars, protein bars, protein bars.” She looks around the pantry, grabs something, opens the fridge, tosses me a cold brew, and then grabs her sunglasses and purse. “What?”
I realize I’m just standing there like a shirtless idiot, but damn, I’ve never seen a girl get ready so fast. “That was fast.”
“I can be fast.” She smiles.
I know we’re in a hurry, but I can’t help it. I stroll over to her, pull her against me and kiss her on the mouth, it’s hard, brief, and random as hell, but I can’t help myself anymore.
“Wh-what was that for?” Her lips are even flushed.
“Just think of it as a participation trophy, you know, from this morning.” I wink, earning a shove from her. “Let me run across the hall and grab a shirt, then we can go.”
“Could have used the same shirt from last night, but…” She looks away, cheeks pink.
“But then I’d have to explain why I have dried—”
“Ew, gross, just go.”
“Wasn’t ‘ew, gross’ this morning,” I grumble as she shoves me out of the apartment and into the hall.
“Not the time to discuss; just grab a shirt; I’ll wait here.” She shoves the food into her purse along with her unopened cold brew. I’ll never fully understand why every girl I know seems to take after Mary Poppins when it comes to their bags.
She probably has a first aid kit in there too.