This Is War, Baby - K Webster Page 0,82

soul. And right now, I had full access.

“Did you know you have between 120,000 and 150,000 hairs on your head?” he questioned and twisted a wet lock around his finger.

I smiled at him. “You told me a time or two.”

He continued to regale me, despite having told me before, on how many hairs an average human loses all the while playing with mine. Even though I’d heard it before, it was still fascinating and necessary for him to share that information with me.

“Up to a hundred strands a day in rare cases,” I said, remembering a conversation before. “That’s a lot.”

He groaned but flashed me a sweet smile. “Tell me about it. If I let myself think about it, I’d go mad wondering how many you’ve shed since you’ve been here.”

His eyes began their darting and I knew he was calculating. He thrives on details. The forces that normally possess him seemed to be in control when he could explain them to me. I also got a run down on my average breaths, heartbeats, and blinks per minute. But what got me was my smiles.

“Sometimes, your smiles run together,” he said thoughtfully and ran his thumb along my bottom lip. “For someone who likes to count, this is difficult to calculate. When we play chess, you smile once. And it lasts the entire game. I live for that long precious smile.”

I smile again recalling his words as I stare at the handsome sleeping man. His obsessions and compulsions may horrify others, including him. But I like learning about them because they’re a part of who he is. As much as running is a part of my life, his quirks are a part of his.

“Momma,” he mutters in his sleep. “Momma, no.”

Frowning, I inspect his features. He’s upset about something he’s dreaming about. A part of me wants to wake him. But the selfish part worries he’ll be back to his old self when he does wake. I’m worried he’ll have a fit and kick me out of his room where I won’t be able to touch and smell him. Where I won’t be able to pepper kisses all over his face when the mood strikes.

I reach between us and grip his flaccid cock in an attempt to draw him from bad dreams to a pleasant reality. With each stroke, he hardens and soon his hips are bucking against my hand.

“Shhhh,” I whisper as I roll him onto his back. “I’ll take care of you.”

He cracks his eyes open and they widen. I recognize the fear in them—the fear of germs and catastrophes and touch and me. But I don’t let him recoil. Instead, I straddle him and sink my body on his thick cock.

A pleased groan rips through him and his hands find my hips. His eyes have slammed shut and I smile, realizing I’ve won over his mind, even if for a short while. I’ve never been on top before with him so I’m unsure what to do at first. He seems pretty content to simply have me there. But soon, his fingers dig into my hips and he urges me to move. It takes a minute to get the hang of it, adjusting to his thickness, but I eventually start bouncing on him with vigor.

From this position, he’s deep inside of me and reaching me in places that make me crazy. My breasts bounce and the slapping sound of my skin against his only serves to make me wetter for him. His hands slide up and begin kneading my breasts. When he pinches my nipples, my vision goes black with pleasure and I lose myself to an orgasm.

“Oh God!” I shriek and spasm around him.

It must send him over the edge because he hisses and throbs out his release inside of me.

“My Baylee. My sweet, sweet Baylee.”

I don’t climb off of him but instead rest on his chest and bury my face in his neck. His palms stroke my back. He doesn’t urge me to get off of him. I’m relaxed and sated.

Warren is my whole world.

And I think I’m his too.

For now.

“WHEN WE GET married, I want to move to New York,” Lilah mused as she took a hit of her joint. She attempted to pass it to me but I waved her off. It’s something we didn’t agree on, but I didn’t press her to quit despite her many attempts to talk me into trying it.

“Our family is here in San Diego,” I said with a