Ruckus

“Yes,” she slurred groggily, still comatose. “I told Millie about us.” Her ass pressed against my shaft harder, and now half my cock was pulsating between its cheeks. “She’s happy for me.”

Holy. Fucking. Shit.

I wanted to grab, spin, and eat her out, which was out of the question, because not only was Rosie asleep, her whole family was snoring, too. I heard the serenade of snorts on my way to her room.

This wasn’t the kind of conversation I was going to have with a sleeping girl, so I tucked my hand into her shorts and started rubbing her clit in circles, embracing her from behind and feeling my dick jumping and jerking between her ass cheeks. I wanted to slide into that hole. Bad. But anal was definitely one of those things you needed to talk about before you were doing it.

“Come on my fingers, Baby LeBlanc.” I slipped one, two, three fingers into her pussy and enjoyed the slurping noises as I pushed them in and out, slow at first and then faster when her hips started chasing my hand frantically. Pressing my lips to the shell of her ear, I hissed, “Come on, Sirius. I love you.”

Her orgasm exploded on my fingers, and she cried out, her lips parting in desire. I had to shove my forearm into her mouth to muffle her scream. Apparently, Rosie enjoyed being fingered so much, she rolled around on her back and sat on top of me, straddling me in the dark before I had the chance to react.

I still wasn’t sure if she was asleep or awake. She looked somewhere in-between. Her eyes were glazed-over, her lips red, open and inviting as she grinded against me, her bare pussy brushing my naked cock.

I desperately wanted to fuck her, but we still hadn’t talked about one little thing. (And no, it wasn’t the fact that I was in love with her sassy ass. She neither acknowledged nor heard it, probably, and it wasn’t even news to me. I always knew I loved her. Way before I admitted it to myself.)

“You on the pill?” I asked. If not, I was going to have to run real quick to the other side of the hallway and get a condom. I wasn’t even sure I had any. I always kept one in my wallet, but it hadn’t been replaced since that time on our first night in Todos Santos. Though I wasn’t above sneaking into Vicious and Millie’s room—yes, on their honeymoon night—and stealing his condoms while they were both there. Even if they were naked and fucking. That was how bad I wanted Rosie.

“No pills,” she mumbled, her body leaning back and slamming into me as she pushed my dick into her pussy. Fuuuuuck.

“Baby.” I grabbed her arm, kissed her wrist, the inside of her palm, and her fingertips a million times. “You’re kind of asleep. And I’m kind of a jerk for sneaking in here and fingering you while you’re borderline unconscious. We need a condom. Let me go grab one real quick, okay?”

But she kept going at it, Cowgirling the fuck out of me, and even though I knew it was a bad idea, my dick took charge and Yee-Haw’ed, telling me to fuck the consequences. Every time she came down on my cock and clenched against it, I wanted to plaster her to the bed and tell her to wait a minute. I even thought of flipping her over, scooting upwards and fucking her mouth with my dick to make it stop.

I tried to reason with my logic as I found myself helpless underneath her, unable to deny her what she wanted, even if it was crazy and dangerous. I’d been traumatized by Nina, but Rosie wasn’t her. Even if she got pregnant, no big deal, right? Luna was cute. Even though she had a “back-poop” today and Trent made me change her diaper. And maybe I could be a good dad someday. I just wasn’t sure nine months from now was a good date.

“No need, no need,” Rosie muttered, picking up pace. She was still kind of asleep. For an exhausted girl, she did a stellar job of riding me. My balls tightened, and I felt the familiar rush from my spine. I was going to come. I was going to come, and Rosie wasn’t on the pill.

Hey, asshole, you’re also an idiot, you know that?

“Baby…” I groaned, but it was futile. I wasn’t going to stop her, even if the reality of what was going to happen afterwards was going to destroy me.

“Dean,” she moaned. “Come.”

And I came.

I came inside her, twice at this point, without a condom.

She collapsed onto my chest after the act, nuzzling into my neck, my cock still inside her. I felt my warm cum dripping between us, sticking to my stomach, and felt the weight of my actions. It was a million times heavier than the woman on top of me.

“I came inside,” I whispered, to me more than to her.

Pressing her lips to my throat, she said, “I can’t have kids.”

And fell back asleep on top of me.

Fuck.

What makes you feel alive?

Love. When it is fierce and deprived. Raw and delicious. But it also reminds me that one day—soon—it will all end for me.

WE SPENT THE FLIGHT BACK home holding hands and making out.

Waking up next to him felt like a dream. The irony didn’t escape me, but then everything about our relationship was dunked in satire. Dean was so careless, sneaking into my room and fingering me while I slept, but I was quick to reciprocate. I remembered riding him, lazy and slow, my clit rubbing against his tight abs. I took what I needed, then dozed off back to sleep. I was so dog-tired—my legs were sore, my lungs needed a break from life, and my head was still pounding with the music and general noise—I was twirling on the line between unconsciousness and awareness of my surroundings.

On the plane, I told Dean about my conversation with Millie, casually skipping the part where he’d asked me to move in with him over text messages yesterday. Not that I didn’t want that. Because I did. But for now, I just wanted to enjoy him. I wasn’t going to make the same mistakes I did with Darren. I wasn’t going to rush into commitments, and even though I knew that Darren and Dean were nothing alike (for one thing, my feelings for Dean drove me straight into the arms of insanity, and that bitch knows how to clutch you tight to her chest), this time, I wasn’t going to screw this up.

It wasn’t going to be beautiful. In fact, life with me was going to be ugly, and I wasn’t even sure he’d be up for staying the whole ride. Also, I still had to tell him about my condition. About my inability to have children. About the reality that was waiting for me—a reality that was only going to deteriorate—and what it entailed. The medications. The vests. The massages. The hefty bags I dragged everywhere. The inevitable disabilities as my systems would come crashing down one by one. Everything.

And Dean had secrets of his own. I knew that, too.

Who was waiting for him in Alabama, and who was the girl he spoke on the phone with the day he barged into my apartment to convince me to go to Todos Santos? There was no point poking at the subject. He had to come to me willingly and tell me everything, just like I had to muster up the courage to open the subject of my health and issues.

Right now, I didn’t want it to be complicated.

Right now, I wanted to live.

“Millie is pregnant, by the way.” I pressed my lips to his throat and sucked lightly as the same flight attendant, who served us on the way into San Diego a week ago, passed us by and shot me an odd look. Last time, we looked like we were about to kill each other. Now, I was three seconds away from joining the mile high club in front of a dozen or so sleepy first-class flyers.

Dean jerked his head and scanned my face. He looked slightly tortured by the news, and I frowned.

“God, Dean, don’t tell me you don’t like children,” I teased. He picked up my hand, pressing my knuckles to his lips. His expression was so tight, I thought the wrinkles between his eyebrows would split his face in two.

“How do you feel about it?” He ignored my statement. Wait, does he actually not like children? I had a feeling it was a sore spot for him as much as it was for me.

I looked down, smiling.

“I’m happier than anyone.” I munched on my lower lip. “I’m going to spend every penny I have on buying this baby all the toys in New York, and I’m going to learn how to knit.”

“Oh, fuck. Continue.” He snaked a hand between my thighs and leaned forward to nibble on my earlobe. “Tell me more about you knitting. Your dirty talk game is strong today.”

I swatted his chest, still in awe of the fact that I was sleeping with this gorgeous man. I always dated nice-looking men, but Dean was in a league of his own.

“I’m serious. I can’t wait to be an aunt. Do you think it’s a boy or a girl?”

Again with those sad, brooding eyes that came out of nowhere. Was he hiding something from me? Was it the same thing I was hiding from him?

“A boy,” he said, kissing my neck. “You?”

“A girl.” I rubbed my nose against his in an Eskimo kiss.

When we got back to our apartment building, he escorted me to my door, wheeling both our suitcases, and when I was about to turn around and close the door to my apartment—because there was absolutely no way we were sleeping together, I was too tired to take a shower after the wedding, and it had been twenty-four hours since my body and soap shared a hot date—he shoved his hand and stopped it from closing shut.

“I think we need to make a few rules.” His voice was businesslike.

I opened the door a crack, peeking through it sheepishly.

“You do?” I grinned.

“You fucking bet. Rule number one: I’m allowed to use my key for your place and vice versa.” He dug his hand inside his pocket and produced a key, which he put in my palm, curling my fingers over it. “Rule number two: your dating days are over. You’re mine now.”

“Are you mine, too?” I arched an eyebrow.

“Always have been, Baby LeBlanc. This cock was just a rental that’s now being used by its legitimate owner.” He continued. “Rule number three: no secrets. If something bothers us,” his tone turned a shade darker, “we talk about it. We fucking address it. And we don’t shy away from the bad shit, because I know there is going to be some bad shit down the road, and I’m still all in. Understood?”