16. I'm Yours - ✭ Monica ✭

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He throws his shirt over his head before quickly leaving the room. I don't want him to go. I want him to stay and wrap me in those large tatted arms, the ones that'd just made me experience things I never have.

Boston makes me feel so many new things. With him I'm not just this innocent little thing, a fragile sexual object in need of taking. No, I feel like an empowered woman with him. He had made my entire body awaken, made it feel like it was brand new.

When he had told me I didn't have to touch him today it had made me want to even more. I wanted to touch him. I wanted to make him feel good. I wanted to give him pleasure because it was exactly that— me wanting to.

Nothing about what we did was forced. I didn't have to make myself do anything with Boston. Everything with him just feels natural. It's not me being coerced into touching him or him touching me. No, the sexual tension between us is real. It's not just me feeling like I have to do some obligatory girlfriend sex task.

I'm not his girlfriend.

I swallow the lump in my throat as I sit down on the edge of my bed. I contemplate my previous thought. No, I'm not his girlfriend but I had done very girlfriend-like things with him. I had done sexual things with him that I had never done with Carter. I had never wanted to.

I let out a long sigh as I stare at the phone between both of my hands, the hands that had just been covered in Boston's orgasmic fluid. The voicemail notification flashing on the screen at me like a blaring siren.

Warning. Warning. Warning. Your father is going to kill your new boyfriend.

He's not my boyfriend.

I click on the voicemail message and let it play.

"Monica, I don't know why you won't pick up my phone calls. You always pick up my phone calls. I'm just trying to make sure you're safe. I'm just looking out for you." He lets out a frustrated breath and I can practically see my father standing in front of me pushing his hair back with a large tatted hand. It's something Boston does as well. "I called the school and I spoke to your dean to make sure your academic scholarship isn't pulled but there are stipulations to that. So, can you please pick up? Can you call me back? I only want the best for you. So please, give your old-man a call. I love you Mon-Bear."

Tears prick my eyes by the end of my father's voicemail. I am the quintessential epitome of a daddy's girl. My father has been nothing but loving and doting my entire life. He's been the very best father, in fact, albeit a tad over-protective. Seeing three missed calls from him, directly after what I had just done with Boston, made me feel terrible. Terrible and slightly disgusted with myself.

Blowing out a breath I press the number that belongs to my father and wait for him to answer. It doesn't even fully ring before he picks it up with, "Monica?"

"Hey Dad."

"God damn, it's so good to hear from you. You have no idea how worried your mother and I have been. Well, especially me." There's a pause and his voice gets a little thicker. "You know how much I love you, Monica. I only want good things for you. I don't know what's going on with you right now but I need to know you know that."

"I do know that, Dad." There's a long pause because I don't know how to continue. I don't know how to tell him I'm finally finding myself and who I'm with. I know he'll find out I'm with a guy eventually but I don't know how to tell him.

"I spoke to the dean at your school and I said that your brother just had a baby and that you were back home in Boston." Well he's not entirely wrong. I do feel at home with Boston. "Well, since it was a family emergency and what not they agreed to grant you leniency as long as you're back to attend class within the next week."

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