Chapter 27
“Are you complaining?” he asked, still keeping his eyes innocently on his tablet. He said, “Give me one good reason why you should complain about having my hand on your junk.”
“I could piss on you,” I quipped.
“Maybe I’d like that.”
“You’re naughty,” I said and leaned over to lick and nibble his earlobe.
When did I turn into his boyfriend, I wondered. Hell, about forty-eight hours after the tornado, maybe even sooner. When I’d talked about flying back to Florida, he asked if I’d stay with him a few months, and I agreed. Then he admitted that he wanted to be my boyfriend. I certainly didn’t complain. In truth, it was more, and sooner, than I’d expected. He was a great guy, and I wasn’t about to let him go any time soon.