legs to her clit. “It feels so nice when I touch it.”
“How can you do that when you live around those people?” I ask, yanking my hand free.
Pixie doesn’t answer. Her lips turn downward. I expect her to cry at my rejection. Instead, she looks irritated.
“The story you’re in has many parts that you can’t write,” she says, holding my gaze. “But there are other parts where you get to pick your path. Why do you pick the ugly ones?”
I open my mouth to call her an idiot for believing stupid shit. Her dad isn’t in the next life. He’s rotting in the ground. She’s not a dandelion but a fucking girl. She’s no more special than any other woman. I don’t know why I ever stopped by the side of the road. She’s fucked up my damn life. I’d be better off if I left them to starve.
I feel the words ready to roll off my tongue, but I don’t say that shit. What good would saying them do? If Pixie hates me, then what? I can’t take her back to the Village. The club expects me to pump her for info. They called her my honey. I can’t shut down what’s happening, even if I wanted to.
And I don’t want Pixie to hate me or leave. I need her to tell me I’m special. When she says the words just right, I almost believe her.
“I don’t want to touch you right there,” I finally spit out. “I want to touch you here.”
My finger grazes her right nipple. Pixie stops frowning at me long enough to look down. I imagine her tits are plumper when she hasn’t been starved. There’s no meat left on her body. Only bone and muscles.
But the red flesh of her nipple, already hard from the water, tightens to a point when I touch it. Pixie takes each nipple in her fingers and squeezes them.
“Why here?” she asks, her gaze soft and relaxed again.
“Because when you sit with my head in your lap, I’m close enough to your tits to suck them. I never do, but I want to.”
“Do you want to suck them like a baby?”
“Didn’t your mama tell you that?”
Pixie squeezes her breasts harder as if trying to milk herself. She really doesn’t get it.
I gently push her hands aside and then look at her breasts. They’re right here for me to enjoy. I already touched one nipple. No reason to get fucking shy now.
My rough fingers look wrong against her delicate flesh. Yet, I go slow, making careful movements and remembering I’m not attacking an enemy. This is a beautiful girl. She likes me. I like her. Why lose control? Instead, I gently pluck her nipples.
Pixie exhales softly, and her hips buck at the sensation. I like knowing she’s turned on by me. No one else makes her wet. Just this big hulking asshole. Pixie only wants me to touch her.
A moan leaves her lips, echoing in the shower when I roll her nipples gently between my fingers. She reaches down to the spot she wanted me to touch before. I see myself lowering to my knees. I want to taste her red nipples. I even lick my lips at the thought, but Pixie stops me.
“The floor is hard,” she says, reaching over and messing with the knobs. “It’s slippery here, too. I’ll fall if you...”
Unable to finish, Pixie looks to me for help with turning off the water and making her feel good. I do the first one easily. Then I reach for a towel, but Pixie doesn’t wait. She walks out of the shower and toward the bed. When I see the expression on her face, I drop the towel. I can almost smell her sweet, wet pussy from here.
Pixie stands next to the bed, waiting for me. My hands cup her face, and Pixie lifts her lips. She understands what I want. When I lick her lips, she opens up. My tongue slides against hers, showing her what I like. Pixie takes her hands and cups my face. She imitates my movements in a way that is both adorable and makes my dick hard again.
I only leave her lips so I can kneel down before her. Panic rises in my chest. I’m certain we’ll be interrupted, and I’ll never get to taste her red nipples. Sucking one into my mouth, I wrap my arms around her so she can’t run away.
Pixie moans, stroking my head. Her hips arch forward,