Haze (The Fosters of New York 2) - Page 61

"Since I moved away for college." He squeezes my ass. "I never did the roommate thing. You don't talk about your roommate often."

"She's not going to be my roommate after next Friday." I lean back into his hand, wanting him to touch my pussy the same way he did in the bed earlier before he fucked me.

He acquiesces, his long fingers stroking my clit beneath the surface of the water. "What happens after next Friday?"

I close my eyes as I move on his hand. "She's moving out."

He reaches up to cup my breast with his free hand, pulling and twisting my nipple. "Are you going to get a new roommate?"

"That spot," I groan. "Why does that feel so good?"

"Your cunt is so sensitive, Isla." He kisses me softly. "It's so plush, so greedy and wet."

I can't focus on anything but my desire to come again. I move forward when the thickness of his hard cock rubs against my ass. "I love when you fuck me."

"Let yourself go." His breath is a whisper against my neck. "Let yourself feel."

I grab hold of his biceps, pushing my fingernails into his rock hard muscles as I grind my pussy into his hand and fall over the edge crying out his name.

***

"Are you going to get a new roommate, Isla?" He places the empty ice cream container and two metal spoons on the nightstand. "I can help you find someone suitable."

"You mean someone without a cock?"

He chuckles. "I'd prefer if you didn’t live with a man, but it's your choice, of course."

I know that he means that. I can't imagine he'd ever tell me what to do or what decisions to make. I do want his guidance though. He's educated in areas that I have little experience in.

"Can we talk about something?" I close my eyes briefly to chase away my doubts. "It's something personal."

He lowers himself back to the bed so he's facing me directly. He pulls a corner of the sheet over his lap, shielding his body. I'm grateful. Telling him about my life while staring at his cock, would be a welcome, but awkward, distraction.

"We can talk about anything you'd like. Tell me what it is."

His phone rings. The sound startles me enough that I pull the sheet tighter around me. Maybe it's a sign. Maybe I'm not supposed to feel so comfortable with him that I'm sharing my innermost secrets.

He doesn't move. He doesn't even flinch as it continues to ring.

"It might be about your mother," I say quietly.

"My mother is in the very capable hands of a private nurse she hired." He taps his finger on his knee. "I believe they went to the theater tonight and then they likely went to dinner. She's fine."

I scratch my neck. "A private nurse? She's okay, isn't she?"

"She's one of the healthiest people I know." He brushes his fingers across my cheek. "She had an anxiety attack that night, nothing more. I'm not concerned about her. I want to focus on you. What did you want to talk about?"

Maybe that's actually the sign that I've been waiting for. He'll understand. He has issues with his own mother. I clasp my hands together in front of me. I take a deep breath and I look right into his eyes. "My mother is suing me. She's trying to take away everything my grandmother left me."

CHAPTER THIRTY-EIGHT

Gabriel

It takes a moment for the words to sink in. Her mother is suing her. Suing.

"My grandmother is Ella Amherst. She was Ella Amherst." She wrings her small hands together. "I know you probably don't know who that is, but she was very well known. She was very successful."

"Your grandmother was Lady Amherst?"

Tags: Deborah Bladon The Fosters of New York Romance
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