Love, Chloe - Alessandra Torre Page 0,97

free and wrapped them around his waist. Talk about sexy—having him huge and hard against me, each minute shift of his body a giant reminder of how lucky I was. “Please,” I begged.

I couldn’t even process his request. Couldn’t decide whether to be happy or freaked out. When a man like Carter moved his bare cock along your body, you didn’t think. You didn’t do anything but beg.

I tightened my legs and tried to change our angle.

I reached down and tried to grab him, to wrap my hand around his girth.

“Say yes,” he whispered, his weight on his hands, his head dropping down to brush over my lips.

“Why don’t you make me scream it instead?” The words were a challenge and I watched his eyes when they hit, the darken of his stare one that filled me with anticipation.

He sat up, his torso moving away and gripped my hips, positioning himself in between my legs, and I couldn’t help but whimper in relief as his fingers dug into me, his initial thrust slow and deep and perfectly in control.

After that, nothing about our sex was controlled. And my YES was a scream. A loud and long scream, followed by fifty or so short, concise versions, coming quicker and quicker before … I curled forward, my hands gripping at his shoulders, my body stiff as everything turned the most perfect shade of orgasm.

When I came down, limp against the mattress, it was settled. Moving in together. I steeled myself for panic, but there was none.

94. To Pack or Not to Pack?

“Maybe this is a mistake.” I said. “Moving in together?” Something I never did with Vic. I’d never lived with anyone, save those months with Cammie.

“Why?” Cammie asked, sipping a red Starbucks cup, her elbow knocking Benta’s arm when she reached for her cookie. “You guys’ve been together, what … three months?”

“Two and a half, exclusively.” I corrected. “But we’ve dated since…” I scrunched up my face and tried to think. “July.”

“Carlos moved in with me after three months,” Benta unhelpfully supplied.

“Exactly. And we all remember how well that social experiment turned out.” Benta and Carlos lasted three weeks after he moved into her place. It took that long for them to come to the conclusion that they, in fact, hated each other.

“You know what the issue was?” Cammie asked, pointing a navy fingernail in Benta’s direction. I waited for this gem of knowledge with all the excitement of a root canal. “Carlos moved into your place. I think it works better when the girl moves in with the guy. Otherwise, you feel like he’s a freeloader.”

“Didn’t you guys split the rent?” I looked at Benta, who nodded through a mouthful of—damn her—my cookie.

“It doesn’t matter,” Cammie said. “Call it tradition, patriarchy, whatever. A woman wants a provider, and you don’t feel that way if he’s suddenly taking over half your closet.” This coming from a woman who’d never lived with anyone other than me. “You guys won’t have that problem, since you’re moving in with him. And plus…” she popped a peppermint into her mouth, “you’ll save on rent!” She beamed, like she had ever once worried over a rent payment.

But … she did have a point. Now that Nicole was back home and settled, the plan was for me to quit on Monday. I’d offer to work a final two weeks, but Nicole would most likely kick me out the door. Unemployed just in time for the holidays. JOY. It would help the situation if I didn’t have to worry about rent. But was that really a reason to move in with a guy? I voiced the question.

“What you need to think about,” Benta reasoned, “is if you would move in with him if your rent stayed the same. If the answer is yes,” she shrugged, “then you’re good to go.”

It was kind of a stupid hypothetical because I couldn’t even decide if I should move in with him and my rent wasn’t staying the same, but I understood her point.

“It’s the next step,” Cammie said. “Either you and Carter are serious about each other or you aren’t. If you are, then you need to know if you can live together.” She blinked at me as if it was so obvious, and I eyed her eyelashes suspiciously. The girl got extensions. She had to. She wasn’t that lash-blessed before. I swallowed the observation and tried to focus on her advice. She was right. It was the next step. Did