Good Girl Gone - Page 15/54

She nods, her lips sealed around me.

“Star, please pop off,” I beg.

She shakes her head.

I grab her face and stick a finger in the corner of her mouth to break the suction. She mewls out a little noise, but she pulls back. I come with her hand shuttling up and down my dick.

I watch as my come shoots across her arm, splashing against the shower tiles. She adjusts the angle, and it hits the shirt she’s wearing. She jerks the T-shirt over her head mid-stroke, and I come on her tits, which just makes me come all the harder. That’s me, blanketing her with my come, and she’s smiling like she just won the fucking lottery.

My dick doesn’t go soft right away. It stays hard and she doesn’t let me go, not until I pry her fingers off of me and bring her hand to my lips. “Why did you do that?”

She shrugs and her cheeks turn red. “I just wanted to see if it works.”

“You were worried that it wouldn’t?” I tilt her face up to mine so I can look into her eyes.

“I wasn’t worried at all. But you were. That’s why I did it.” Her brow furrows. “You didn’t like it?”

“Are you fucking kidding me? I loved it.” I turn her so that I can wash her boobs off. Then I pat her bottom. Now it’s her turn. “Go wait for me to dry off. On the bed. Naked.”

She bites her lower lip and shakes her head at me. Then she walks out of my bathroom wearing nothing but a pair of wet panties. I rinse off really quickly, feeling like my heart is in my throat. I dry off, wondering how I can arrange her on the bed so that I make her come. This is all so new to me. I feel like I’m a virgin on prom night.

But when I go into the bedroom, she’s not there. “Star!” I call.

I get no answer. Her wet panties have been discarded on the floor.

“Star!” I call again. But she’s gone. She has left entirely.

Fuck. This wasn’t supposed to happen. None of it.

I strike my hand against the doorjamb. This wasn’t fucking supposed to happen.

Star

I grab my bag and go to Peck’s apartment. I have a key because Peck gave me one, and I’m not afraid to use it. I’ll just stay here until they come home from the hospital. But when I get here, I see that they’re already home. I thought they kept newborns and new moms for at least twenty-four hours, but I guess I was wrong.

Emilio and Marta are here too.

My parents are awesome. They’re the absolute best. They’re also nosy as hell. Emilio, my adoptive father, was a rock and roll star long ago, and he married Marta when they were still young, and then they adopted me and Wren. That was when I was almost a teenager. They jumped into my life like they had always been there. And they’re still in it, even when I don’t want them to be.

“You’re sleeping with the felon?” Emilio asks.

I heave out a sigh. “Marta, will you make him stop?” I whine.

She points a finger at him. “Behave yourself,” she warns.

“So you are sleeping with the felon?” Emilio asks again.

“I spent the night at his house,” I explain. “That’s all.”

Emilio glares at me. “In his bed.”

“If you want specifics, we didn’t do anything. We just slept.”

“You told me that when you were seventeen and I caught you in the backseat with the boy who lived down the street.”

I don’t say anything, because he’s right.

“You were lying then, too.” He puts his palms on his knees and pushes to his feet. He walks over to Marta. “Give me that baby so I’ll have an excuse not to strangle your daughter.” He sits down next to her and Marta puts Sammy in his arms.

“So she’s my daughter when you think she’s being promiscuous?”

“Who’s being p-promiscuous?” Peck asks as she steps out of the bedroom. She was taking a quick nap while Marta and Emilio were here to cuddle the baby. She yawns and sits down on the opposite end of the couch.

“Me, apparently,” I tell her. I roll my eyes at her.

“You show up with your hair all wet, no makeup on, and a bag over your shoulder, which means you’re running from something,” Emilio says. “And I’d bet my lucky quarter that whatever you’re running from has a dick. And you wouldn’t run from a dick unless you’d slept with him.” Marta slaps his arm. “What?” he asks, raising his shoulders. “She always runs from men after she sleeps with them.”

I lay my head back against the couch and groan. “Do we really have to talk about this right now?”

“Yes,” Emilio says at the same time Marta says, “No.”

“No, we don’t,” Marta insists, talking over Emilio. She glares at him. “Let her be. For now.”

“Do I need to go have a talk with that boy?” he asks me.

I shake my head. “That’s not necessary.”

“I think it is.”

“Give him time to mess everything up before you go have a talk with him.” I take the baby from him so that he might take pity on the lady holding the baby and knock it off.

“What’s he like?” Marta asks. She smiles at me and rubs the top of my head as she walks past me. Sam and Peck’s apartment is one big open space with a huge kitchen, so I can still talk to her while she washes their dishes and cleans up a little for them.

A grin pulls at the corners of my lips. “He’s really nice. And funny. And sweet.”