Proving Paul's Promise
Page 43

He laughs, and Emily hugs Friday.
The door closes behind them. “What did you tell him?” I ask Friday.
“I told him to strip her naked and throw his leg across her butt and sleep cuddled up with her like he used to because she misses it.”
“Shut the f**k up,” I breathe. “He just said the same thing to me.”
She shrugs. “They’re so busy, they’re not talking to one another.” She walks up to me and stands up on tiptoe to put her arms around my neck. “You ready for bed?”
I kiss her, and I rethink my decision to wait. It’s hard with her pressed up against me. I set her back from me. “I…um…need to actually go to bed.” I scratch my head.
She steps back, her face falling. “Oh. Okay.”
“I’ll…uh…I’ll see you tomorrow.”
She doesn’t say anything and goes to her room. She slams the door behind her. I stand outside her door for much longer than I should. I want to go in. I want to open the door. Just as I start to walk away, I hear a noise from her room. It’s a low vibration, and I press my ear to the door.
Suddenly, it hits me. She’s getting off with a f**king vibrator. I pace back and forth up the hallway, smacking myself in the head with the heel of my hand. Stupid, stupid, stupid f**ker.
It goes on for about two minutes, and I can’t stand it anymore.
I open her door and go to the side of her bed. “Move over,” I say.
The vibrator turns off. “Fuck,” she breathes.
“Move over now,” I say again.
“Fuck you.”
“Fuck you. Now move over.”
She doesn’t move, so pick her up and shift her over. I get in beside her and reach for her hand, where I find a warm vibrator. It’s hot because she was using it. And it was touching her. I raise it to my lips and lick across it, and she tastes as good as I thought she would. Like spice and heat and Friday.
I push my body between her thighs and slide down. She protests and grabs my hair, trying to pull me back up.
“Stop it,” I say. I take her hands and pin them together in one of mine and rest them on her belly. She could easily pull free. But she doesn’t.
I touch the vibrator to her pu**y and keep pressing and searching until I find her slick hole. I slide it inside to get it wet and then move up, looking for her clit. She stops moving, and a noise escapes her throat when I find it. “Right there,” she breathes. I turn it on, and she moans.
“Be still,” I say, but her hips arch and press against my touch. She rocks against the vibrator, and her legs shake ever so slightly.
“You didn’t want me,” she says. “Why are you doing this?”
“I want you. I just can’t have you yet. I need to f**king marry you first. So you can’t run away from me.”
She lifts her head to look down at me. I can see her face from the light in the window. “No f**king way.”
“Yes f**king way.” I press the vibrator against her and find a rhythm with it, and she starts to tremble. “I f**king love you, Friday. Let me f**king love you.”
I don’t give her time to think. I don’t want her to think. Not about this. She cries out when she comes, and her body trembles and shakes. I let her hands go free, and she sinks one into my hair, gently tugging as the orgasm quakes through her body. Again and again, she jerks until she stills and pushes the vibrator away.
“That was the worst proposal ever,” she says when she can finally breathe.
“I know. I’ll do it again tomorrow.” I toss the covers over both of us and reach for her.
She shoves me away. “Get the f**k out of my bed, Paul,” she says.
“No f**king way. I make you come, I get to sleep in your bed.”
“Get out, Paul,” she says. But there’s no heat in her voice. None at all.
“I’m staying.” I pull her against me. She’s wearing that pajama top and nothing on the bottom, so I pull the top over her head. She’s naked in my arms, and she feels so f**king good. I snuggle closer so that my thighs cradle her bottom. I cup her breast in my hand, just because I can’t get close enough to her, and she lays her head on my arm. I brush her hair down between us. “Let me sleep with you.”
“Okay,” she says quietly. She yawns, and I feel her warm breath on the inside of my elbow. Within seconds, the woman I love is asleep in my arms. And my dick is so hard it’ll probably never go soft again.
Friday
I wake up sweating, stuck against a man. I haven’t been stuck like this to a member of the opposite sex in years, and it feels kind of foreign. Then the thoughts of yesterday seep back into my brain.
He painted my naked body.
He got all intimate with my ni**les.
He supported my art project with lustful eyes.
He let me jump into his arms and pretty much promised me he was going to do amazing things to me last night.
He didn’t kiss me back when I threw my arms around his neck.
He told me he didn’t want to sleep with me.
He went to bed.
But he didn’t go to bed.
He listened outside my door and heard my vibrator.
Then he took it from me and f**king made me come.
He told me he loved me.
Then he went to sleep.
In my bed.
With me in it.
Wrapped around me like he wanted to be with me for the rest of his life.
Did he mention marriage?
Oh, holy hell. He did mention marriage.