Topsy Turvy Kinda Love
no way I’m in love with Brooks Jansen, right?The scary thing is… it didn’t freak me out as much as it did the first time I thought about it. This time it feels real. Like it isn’t something I should be terrified of any longer. I’m starting to trust that Brooks won’t let me down like everyone else in my life has before him.
I want to kiss him so badly, but I’m not about to ask him to stop so we can change positions. He’s hitting just the right spots. Why mess up a good thing?
The familiar light-headed, lost in a daze feeling rushes over me, and the urge to let go pushes at me. “Please, Brooks, Please” I beg, hoping that he’ll grant me mercy and give me one more orgasm to match the other two he’d already given me tonight. His fingers slide down and find my clit, circling and circling it. A few more swipes and I shatter completely, calling out his name as if he’s my only salvation. Now, there’s an idea.
He presses his forehead to my neck and shatters with me. “I love you, Mia Preston,” he whispers it and then freezes, almost shocked that he’d uttered it aloud. “There is no one else. It has only ever been you.”
“Wait, what about the other girl? The one you were learning to pleasure?”
He shakes his head. “There is no other girl.”
“No?”
“Only you.” He turns me around, kissing my forehead. “You don’t have to say it back, Mia. But now you know.”
My voice is shaky as I respond, “If it helps, I do really like you. I’m just not there yet.”
“I know, and it’s completely fine. I have all the time in the world to make your heart beat for me, my little Pixie girl. You shoot up a flare when you’re ready, and I’ll be here to see it.”
Brooks left me earlier this morning to go into work and help get things set up at the bar. I’d gotten up with him while he showered. We had a quickie after he got back from his run, and then he’d left with a kiss to the forehead.
I’m starting to like this domesticated person I’ve become. I crawl back into bed and try to fall asleep, hoping that this queasy feeling will go away. When I wake again, it rears its ugly head in vengeance. I’ve spent the last couple of days trying to figure out what I’ve eaten that’s caused such a horrid stomach bug.
Zara will be showing up soon, and I need to get up and look presentable at the least. I debate calling her multiple times today and telling her not to show up, but I know I’ve pushed her off too much lately, and I can’t keep doing it. She’s my bish, and I love her ass, even if she does annoy the piss out of me.
A weird ass knock sounds on the door, and there’s only one person I know that knocks like she does. Walking over to the door, I unlock and open it. “Bout damn time, woman. I’ve been standing out here waiting forever.”
“Jesus, Zara. You just knocked, chill the hell out.”
“Okay, captain cranky. What’s wrong with you?”
“I think I’m dying and the only thing that sounds good right now is baked lays with chocolate sauce.”
Zara lifts a brow at me. “That’s an odd request…”
“Who the hell knows, but it’s basically all I’ve wanted lately. Can’t stop thinking about them. Basically craving them as much as Brooks’ dick these days.”
Zara tilts her head. “You’re a little snappy today… you doing okay? Maybe you should smoke one out. Help those jitters you’ve got pouring through your body.”
“That’s the other thing! I have zero desire to light up right now, and every time I think about it…” I shake my head and gag. “Yeah. Nope.”
“Interesting. Any other issues?”
“Good Lord, I feel like I could sleep for a week uninterrupted and still not want to wake up.”
“Do you mind if I light one?”
I wave her off. “Nah, go ahead.”
The smell of citrus and weed lines my nose. That gagging sensation comes raging back, and I slap my hand over my mouth and run to the bathroom. Just in time to lose the very little contents left in my stomach after puking earlier today. Saliva pools in my mouth, and I know I’m not done yet. I heave again. Zara follows me into the bathroom and holds my hair, rubbing my back. It’s embarrassing, but it’s nice to have someone there.
She hands me a napkin to wipe my face and a glass of water. “How long has this been going on?”
“The last week. I think I picked up a nasty ass stomach virus somewhere, and I just can’t shake it.” I take a few small sips from the glass. “Mmm… that helps.”
Zara pats me on the back lightly. “You think you’re done, or you want to hang out here for a while?”
“I think I’m alright.” She helps me up, and we head back to the living room. I flop down in Brooks’s ugly recliner and inhale deeply. His scent lingers from the last time he sat here, and it gives me some comfort. Isn’t it funny how little things are so important once you take the time to realize the significance of them. “So, what do you think you ate?”
“Brooks cooked steak the other night, but I watched him check the temperature when he was done cooking. It was perfectly cooked. It’s the only meat I’ve eaten lately.”
“Other than Brooks’ cock for dessert, am I right?” She lifts both hands and high-fives herself. Good. Lord.
I shake my head and laugh, then cringe when my stomach threatens to rumble again. Ugh. This is the worst. I hate puking.
A look of concern crosses her face and then disappears again.
“Wait? What are you not saying…”
“It’s just, girl when was your last period.”
“I dunno. Why are you worried about it? This is just an…