“People are losing it...”

The post was only up for twenty minutes before the notifications started rolling in properly.

Veronica’s phone kept lighting up on the coffee table while we stayed tangled on the couch. She ignored it at first, too busy kissing me like the rest of the world could wait. But eventually she pulled back just enough to glance at the screen.

“People are losing it,” she murmured against my mouth, half-laughing. “In a good way, mostly.”

I rested my forehead against hers, breathing hard. My hands were still under the hoodie, palms full of warm skin.

“You sure about this?” I asked. “Posting that?”

She nodded without hesitation.

“I’m sure.” Her fingers traced the line of my jaw. “I’m tired of pretending this is something shameful or secret. You’re not some random guy from a clip. You’re mine. And I’m yours. If people have a problem with that, they can fuck off.”

The certainty in her voice settled something in my chest.

I kissed her again, slower this time. She shifted in my lap until she was properly straddling me, the hoodie riding up around her hips. My hands slid down to grip her arse, pulling her closer. She made a soft sound against my mouth and rolled her hips once, deliberately.

We didn’t make it to the bedroom.

She pulled my shirt off and tossed it somewhere behind the couch. I shoved the hoodie up and over her head, leaving her bare on top of me. The way she looked in the low light — small, curvy, flushed, completely unashamed — made my chest ache in the best way.

She reached between us, freed my cock from my jeans, and sank down onto me with a slow, shaky breath. No teasing. No performance. Just her, taking what she wanted, eyes locked on mine the whole time.

I held her hips and let her set the pace. She rode me steady and deep, one hand braced on my chest, the other tangled in my hair. Every time she sank down she let out this quiet, broken sound that went straight through me.

At one point she leaned in and whispered against my ear, “They can watch all they want. This is still just ours.”

I came first, gripping her tight and burying my face in her neck. She followed a minute later, clenching around me with a soft cry, forehead pressed to mine.

We stayed like that for a long time afterward — her still in my lap, both of us catching our breath, her fingers tracing lazy patterns on my chest.

Eventually she reached over and grabbed her phone again. She didn’t open the notifications. She just turned it face-down and set it aside.

“Later,” she said quietly. “Right now I just want this.”

I nodded and pulled her closer, wrapping my arms around her bare back.

For the first time in days, the outside noise felt like it could wait.