71

Kassie

I'll Come Too

His ass did not stay awake.

I woke up a few hours later, dehydrated and muscles aching like I'd gone through one of his workouts. Which—I mean—I had, I just didn't expect to be so sore afterwards. Leaning up, I took a good, long look at my boyfriend, with his head back against the pillow, mouth open, breathing deeply, his right arm halfway hanging off the bed, that man was out , stone-cold.

"Ha," I whispered. "Got you."

Gently, I picked up his arm and brought it back to the mattress. But what I wanted for real was a picture. Photographic proof that Mr. Intense could sleep the normal amount of hours like the rest of us, if he allowed himself to.

Or…?

My mouth fell open and I pushed up from the bed, careful to be quiet. He didn't even budge. Of course he didn't, he came and then he fell asleep. If Ryan hadn't taken his little celibate sabbatical, he wouldn't have ruined his sleep schedule. The answer to his sleeping problem? Pussy.

I couldn't wait to tell him. This would piss him off for sure.

With a cup of water from his kitchen, I grabbed my phone, and sank into the couch cushions, pulling up our text messages. I took a long drink of water, thinking about the best way to do this. It wasn't enough to text it. I'd have to snap a picture or he'd say something dumb like he was just closing his eyes or he was pretending for my benefit or—

"Kassie?"

My eyes flickered back towards the door frame. That couldn't be Ryan. He was passed out. Not even close to consciousness. But the deep, throaty lilt, so exhausted, he might as well mumbled out the word, could only be from him. The bed creaked and I could hear his footsteps.

Or something like his footsteps. Usually he strode across rooms, always determined to get from one place to another. Now, he took slow steps up to the door.

"Hey, sleepyhead." I put my phone back in my backpack, leaning up. "I was just going to text you."

He didn't say anything, he took heavy steps across the floor to me and the closer he walked, the more I could see him in the darkness. The disheveled curls, the way his shirt lovingly covered his biceps, and the two inches of space where his sweats tugged down to reveal his happy trail, the wisps of curls that made my heart quicken.

Without a word, he stood in front of me. I could see the firm outline of his cock through his sweats.

I had to tilt my head back to look up at him. " Oh ."

Deliciously tired Ryan wanted a blowjob.

And I was a hundred percent game.

He reached down and touched my face, drawing his hand over my cheek. I swallowed. Hard. My pulse raced underneath every time he pet me and I kept glancing back and forth between his face, completely exhausted, and his cock, inches away from me.

"Just to be clear, I'm totally into this," I whispered.

He breathed in slowly, closing his eyes. "You're supposed…to tell me."

What?

I had to stop thinking horny thoughts to realize what was going on. With a frown, I blinked up at him.

"Oh my god, Ryan—are you asleep?"

I knew about sleepwalking from horror movies but I never thought people actually wandered around and talked and everything. But the more I gazed up at him, and saw how much he honestly couldn't keep his eyes open, the more I knew I was right.

"You're supposed to tell me," he insisted, practically slurring his words.

"Tell you what—oh, shit! "

Ryan dipped down and scooped me up in one move, holding me tight against him. I had no experience with sleepwalkers but I was a hundred percent sure they weren't supposed to be picking up people and wandering around with them. I clung to his neck, swearing. There was no way Ryan noticed, he was too busy taking us back to the bedroom.

The blankets were shoved aside and Ryan laid me down in the middle of the bed.

"You're supposed to tell me," he repeated and got into bed with me.

"What am I supposed to tell you?" I finally asked, confused as hell.

Back in the living room, I thought he was going to ask me to open wide and push his cock in my mouth. In the bedroom, I was half-convinced this was some ritual before caveman sex, Ryan style, where he'd push me on my stomach and I'd get to orgasm again.

I wasn't expecting him to shift over me and press his face to my chest. He took a deep breath. In real time, I could see his whole body relax and he closed his eyes, holding me close.

"You just need to tell me, baby," he mumbled, breathing me in. "When you want to go, you need to tell me. I'll come too."

Surprise flooded my system, chasing away the horny daydreams. I stared down at him, stunned. Ryan didn't grab me from the living room for sex. He was literally falling back into a deep sleep right in front of my eyes.

Ryan just wanted to bring me back to bed .

That was all he wanted. Nothing else.

When you want to go, you need to tell me. I'll come too.

There was a hard lump in my throat that hadn't been there a minute ago. I took a deep breath, gazing up at the ceiling. Sleeptalking Ryan rendered me speechless and I had no idea what to say, not a clue. I didn't know what to do.

He said it so easily, something from his subconscious. A simple assertion that when I left, he'd follow.

"Fuck," I whispered.

Ryan didn't say anything. The huge quarterback just nestled closer to me, out like a light again.

"Um…" I cleared my throat, trying to fight the feelings . All of them, combined, hurling at me. The weird, overwhelming infatuation that I had for the football player and how good it felt to give him this…comfort. Quickly, I brushed away at my eyes. He wasn't even awake when he said it. How could he just do that? It shocked me every time.

"You could've gotten a blowjob," I tried to say, my voice thick.

I can't even tell a joke about it.

Fuck.

I wrapped my arms around his neck and held him tight. I shook my head. "Goddamn you, Ryan. You're making it so hard for me to be cool about this."

Still, he said nothing. He just sighed, completely asleep.