Last Words (Morelli Family 7)
“Well, I tried, but you’ve been avoiding me again. Now that you’re my boyfriend, that’s behind us and we can carry on being happy. Who has two thumbs and doesn’t hold a grudge?” She gives me a big, exaggerated grin and points to herself.
There she goes with that boyfriend shit again. “What part of me clearly telling you I didn’t want to do this the other night led you to believe you could show up at my apartment with your sister and decorate my place in Christmas decorations I told you I didn’t want?”
She looks up at me, dropping her shopping bag, and closes the distance between us. My body responds to the sultry look in her eyes and she hasn’t even touched me. Then she does, placing a hand on my chest, letting it drift down my abdomen, and finally drops between my legs. She gropes me, then rubs my cock. It springs to life under her capable caress. Her free hand moves around my neck and she pulls me down to her height so she can kiss me.
I’m not made of fucking steel, so I kiss her back.
“Most of it,” she finally answers, softly, as she draws back. “But feeling how hard you get for me is my favorite part of your invalid argument.”
God, she kills me. She continues to rub me through the stiff fabric. It’s getting increasingly less comfortable. “I already told you, just because I want to fuck you doesn’t mean…”
She gives me a minute to finish that lie, and when I don’t, she nods. “Yeah, you like me. Don’t even try it. I know you have you commitment issues, but guess what? I came up with a foolproof way to combat them. Maybe I can’t clear the demons out of your head all at once, but I can threaten you with a new one to keep you on track until we can work through them together.”
I can’t help cracking a little smile of amusement at her sass. “You think you can threaten me?”
“Mmhmm,” she murmurs, nodding her head. “You need incentive. You need consequences.”
If she keeps rubbing my dick like that, I’m gonna haul her ass in my bedroom and show her little ass some consequences.
At least, that’s where my thoughts are at until she fills me in on the rest of her idea. “So, here’s what we’re going to do. I’m obviously your girlfriend now. That’s already decided. And I’m going to be a really, really good girlfriend.” She unbuttons my jeans and drags the zipper down. Then, to further prove her point, she pushes her hand inside so she can get a better hold on my dick.
My head lolls back as she strokes me. Fuck, that feels good.
“And in return, you’re going to be a solid boyfriend who doesn’t play games and avoid me for days and act like a total douche. Good, loyal boyfriend begets good, loyal girlfriend. Makes sense, right?”
“Makes a lot of sense,” I murmur. “Except for the part—”
The hand she doesn’t have down my pants comes up to cover my mouth. “No, handsome, I wasn’t done talking.” Her fingers play along my length like it’s their fucking job. “But, here’s where the incentive kicks in. If you start pulling this game-playing, awful boyfriend shit again, I’m not going to sit on my couch eating ice cream and being sad about it. I’m not going to laze in bed, touching my own pussy, pining for your mouth instead. You know what I’m going to do?”
I swallow down the anger that wars with the arousal as my mind follows the fucking breadcrumbs and gets to her threat before she utters it.
“I’ll invite over someone else who will. There’s this guy who used to chase me when I worked at the restaurant—you’ve probably seen him at the gym. He clearly spends a lot of time there. All inked up. He’s hot for me. And if my sexy boyfriend would rather play the avoidance game than satisfy me, would rather drink alone at his apartment than get his dick worshipped by his adoring girlfriend, guess what? There are a lot of guys who feel very differently, and I’ll go find one.”
Rage vibrates through me, but she’s still rubbing my cock. How can she be pleasing me and pissing me off in such equal measures? “The fuck you will,” I return, lowly.
“I don’t want to,” she assures me. “I only want you. But I’m not bluffing. Disappear on me again and I’ll invite him over. I’ll lock the door this time, and by the time you get the locks picked and burst into my apartment to vent your rage, Mr. Ink Muscles will already be buried balls-deep inside the pussy that should be yours.”
I feel my lips curl up, feel the rage pulse through me. I grab a fistful of her sweater and yank her close. She gasps in surprise, but her hand doesn’t stop working me. “You fucking invite Mr. Ink Muscles over to your house, you better fuck him real good, because it’s the last pussy he’ll ever get. I’ll fucking kill him. Don’t test me.”