Raw (RAW Family #1)(72)

She laughs, “Um. No. I’ll be fine, Tw—” She smiles. “Tony. I’ll be fine, Tony.”

Putting on my best sad face, I mutter, “What about the awesome make-up sex we’re supposed to have?”

Leaning over the seat, she kisses my lips. “Anticipation will make it all the more awesome.”

Kissing me again and again, I say against her lips, “Okay. No sex.” Another kiss. “Let me eat your *, though.”

Her body shakes against mine in silent laughter. She pulls back. “I’m exiting the car. Don’t follow me. I have a frying pan and I know how to use it.”

Palming my cock, I say dejectedly, “You’re so mean, Angel.”

Still laughing, she shuts the car door, shaking her head. Lifting her hand in a wave, I blow her a small kiss and wonder when it actually happened.

When did I really fall in love with Lexi?

What I used to feel for her, I now see was actually a dangerous and unhealthy obsession. I wanted to hurt her. I don’t want that anymore. I want to make her happy. Because she makes me happy.

I’m happy. For the first time in my life.

Smiling at her retreating frame, I ponder.

My smile fades.

I’ve got to tell her.

Everything.





Laughing out loud, I talk to Nikki and Dave on my cell while I unlock the door to my unit.

Today was a good day. I spent some of the money that Falcon Plastics donated. I gave fifty-thousand to a new women’s shelter that was in dire need of funding, I gave ten-thousand to a charity that focuses on feeding the homeless, and I gave twenty-five-thousand to a program which is known for their work with abused children in the foster system.

I’ve been laughing and smiling like a complete dork all day long. And I don’t even care. I’m a dorkette, and Twitch is my dork. He said so himself. So I had to conference my friends and tell them all that had transpired between me and my man. Well, not everything. Just the essentials.

Dave shouts, “You’re with him? As in ‘honey, I’m home’ with him?”

Nikki scoffs, “I think you know exactly what she means, sissy-boy.” She then shrieks, “Oh my god! I’m so happy for you, babe! I knew it would work out. I just knew it.”

Walking backwards into my unit, I tell them, “Yep. It’s official. I’m with Twitch. And I would be super happy if you both supported me on this. I can’t guarantee it won’t be hard, but—” I yelp in surprise when strong arms circle my waist. My cheeks flame being busted speaking about him so freely with my friends. But I need to finish my sentence. “But I can guarantee that it’ll be worth it.” I quickly add for his sake, “If we both put in one-hundred percent, that is.”

I’m rewarded with a squeeze.

Leaning back into him, he kisses my cheek; keeping his lips on me and closing my eyes, I breathe him in.

I love his smell.

My stressful work day is forgotten, all by a small hug and his scent.

Dave still sounds guarded, “I am supporting you, babe! I can’t even remember when’s the last time you went on a date, so this is huge. I know you wouldn’t have gone into this without thinking it through.” Then he says something that reminds me of why I love this man. “Maybe I just need to get to know him. We can do dinner one night. All of us. If he’s important to you, I’ll make an effort, sweets.”

I whisper through my thick throat, “Dave.”

Nikki says a wobbly, “Naww, Dave! This is why I love to hate you! No man should be so sweet. You’re ruining us for all other men.”

Then, in perfect Dave style, he ruins the moment. “Okay, fine. No more sap. But tell me one thing…” He dramatically pauses for effect, then, “…how big is his wang?”

Nikki and I both cry out, “Dave!” then promptly burst into laughter.

That’s when Tony snatches the phone out of my hand, and putting on his best husky voice, tells them, “It’s a f*cking beast.”

Laughing so hard that tears spring to my eyes, I listen in as Nikki shrieks with laughter. The very last thing I hear before he hangs up on my friends is Dave shouting, “Holla!”

Wiping under my eyes, I chuckle, “That was hilarious. Who knew you could crack a funny?”

Not saying a word, he smiles, pulling my bag off my shoulder and placing it on the floor by the door. He walks over to the sofa and sits. Then spreading his legs, he pops a pillow on the floor between them and orders, “Lexi, sit.”

If he didn’t just say my name, I’d be looking around to see who he was talking to. That’s just odd. I don’t want to sit on the floor.

“Um. I usually just sit there,” I tell him, pointing to the space free by his side.

Walking over to him, he pats his knee. “Lexi, sit.”

I suddenly feel like a dog being called to heel. It’s humiliating and completely degrading. I don’t want to start our day with a fight though, so I move next to him and say, “I’ll just sit in my normal spot,” while attempting to park my ass on the cushy sofa.

Just as my butt descends, he hooks an arm around my waist and pulls me down to the pillow between his feet. He mutters, “That’s better.”

My jaw steels.

This is my house. And I’ll sit where I damn well want to! This is absurd! Why am I allowing this?