Page 59 of The Troll’s Summer Flame

Meghan snort-laughs in my ears. “God, he sounds like such a teddy bear.”

“You strained all of my muscles in the very bestest way, baby,” I reassure.

“Want me to carry you into the shower again? I think I mussed your hair. Significantly.”

“Again? Oh, if you tell me this man has shampooed your hair, I am going to... I don’t know what. Dying of envy is a possibility.”

“I don’t want you to die, so I won’t tell you that.” I slowly stretch and stand up, clutching the wall with one hand as I do.

Gordon’s expression is instantly gratifying. Raw, covetous, and needy. Just from looking at my sleep-wrinkled body and wild bedhead.

My eyes travel down his body. He’s shirtless and wearing boxers.

Boxers that have a huge bulge now. “Again?” I gasp.

He blushes. “Well. Soon?”

“I gotta go, Meg.”

“Does he have a brother?” Meghan shouts as I end the call.

“She wouldn’t like my brothers,” Gordon sighs, and his expression saddens.

I stumble towards him, and then let gravity do its thing, landing on my knees in front of him.

Gordon’s eyes go comically wide as I slowly pull his boxers over his cock, letting the big green rod fly free. “Oh.”

“This will cheer you up,” I wink, and wrap my hand and mouth around him.

The next two days are so satisfying. Andrea is healing.

First, she had to heal from her burns. Then, she had to heal from many rounds of vigorous lovemaking, which she insisted on completing, even though she claimed she was too sore.

Soreness is apparently no competition for arousal, especially not if I can soothe the soreness by giving her sweet little pussy lots of attention and making her come with my mouth. Andrea seems to think that each time I make her come that way, she is obligated to pull me inside of her, and I have to explain that it isn’t so.

At some point. When she pouts up at me, rubbing my cock to her swollen pink lips, there’s no way I can resist following her directions and sliding slowly inside, losing myself in the magic of her squeezing muscles and soft cries.

I am healing. I didn’t even think I was injured. I think I thought I was damaged. Damaged inside, and that these things—the pains of the past, the brokenness of seeing horrible things—were permanent.

Gordon Rockland is cold, silent, and unfriendly.

It’s safer that way.

That’s what I thought.

It turns out that Gordon Rockland just needed the right medicine—a woman with music in her smile and a cat on her windowsill.

I could stay here forever, happy in Andrea’s little apartment.

“You have to go back to work today.” Andrea sighs.

I stir against her, arm draping over her little body. “I will come back home,” I promise.

She smiles at me, a soft, warm smile that is pure enchantment. “Home?”

“I mean, to your home. If you want.”

“I want. But I also want to go cabin-camping. And my boyfriend totally owns a cabin.”