Your Girlfriend Calls Me Daddy

Chapter 154 - 155 | My Girlfriends Are Spirited

"How much further?"

"Extensive." Her pathways glowed brighter against my chest. "I’m nothing if not thorough."

My phone buzzed again. Multiple times. Someone was calling instead of texting, which meant either an emergency or Vivian being Vivian.

Laurana glanced at the nightstand. "Popular this morning."

"It’s probably my sister." I reached for the phone and checked the screen. Unknown number. That meant reporters. "Or the media circus."

"The convenience store footage?" She settled beside me, apparently unconcerned about her nakedness. "I saw the broadcast. Sloppy work, using three distinct abilities in front of cameras."

"Saved lives."

"Saved yourself from boredom more likely." She traced one finger down my chest. "You’re not the hero type."

"And you are?"

"Was." Her expression flickered with something complicated. "Past tense. Present tense I’m a researcher with a very interesting subject."

My phone started buzzing again. Different number. I declined the call and opened my messages properly.

Seventeen new notifications.

Cheon: are you alive

Cheon: Rome I swear to god

Cheon: if you don’t answer I’m calling campus security

Mera: shes been like this for an hour

Mera: just text her before she has an aneurysm

Cheon: I CAN SEE THESE MERA

Mera: good

Mera: relax panda

Mera: hes with the professor

Mera: probably getting extra credit

Cheon: that is not funny

Mera: its a little funny

I grinned and typed back.

Rome: alive

Rome: phone died

Three dots appeared immediately under Cheon’s name. Then disappeared. Then appeared again.

Cheon: you forgot to text us

Cheon: all night

Cheon: we were worried

Rome: sorry

Rome: lost track of time

Mera: was the research productive

Rome: very

Mera: did she give u homework

Rome: reviewing the syllabus now

Cheon: stop being cryptic and come home

Cheon: we have calculus review at noon

Rome: can’t

Rome: running more tests with the professor

Rome: all day

Mera: LMAO

Mera: get it

Cheon: this is inappropriate

Cheon: on multiple levels

Rome: you’re literally sleeping in my bed

Cheon: that’s different

Mera: is it tho

Cheon: YES

Laurana read over my shoulder, her chin resting against my arm. "Your girlfriends seem... spirited."

"That’s one word for it."

"They know you’re here?"

"They know I had a meeting." I set the phone face down on the nightstand. "What they suspect is their business."

"Interesting dynamic." She shifted closer, her breast pressing against my side. "Most men would be more discreet."

"Most men aren’t dating two girls simultaneously who already know about each other and signed contracts agreeing to the arrangement."

Her eyebrows climbed. "Contracts?"

"Long story."

"I have time." Her fingers walked down my stomach. "And I did say I wanted to understand how your drain functions in different contexts."

My dick apparently decided research sounded great, because it was getting hard again despite the thorough attention it had received approximately eight hours ago.

Laurana noticed. Of course she noticed. Her hand wrapped around me, stroking slowly. "Already? Your recovery time is remarkable."

"Healing ability." I turned onto my side to face her properly, my hand finding her hip. "Has some interesting side effects."

"Such as?"

"Zero refractory period." I pulled her closer, feeling her warmth against my chest. "I can go again immediately."

Her eyes gleamed with scientific interest and something considerably less scientific. "That seems like a claim requiring verification."

"You want to verify it?"

"I’m a scientist." She kissed my jaw, my neck, working her way down my chest. "Verification is fundamental to the process."

I rolled her beneath me, settling between her legs. She was already wet again, her body responding to the drain that pulsed between us in steady rhythm. I pressed against her entrance, not entering yet, just letting her feel what was coming.

"Tell me about Drain-types," I said, remembering our deal. "The real information. Not the official NEA propaganda."

She laughed breathlessly, her hips rolling forward in an attempt to take me inside. "Negotiating now?"

"Always." I pushed in just an inch, enough to make her gasp. "You promised answers."

"Fine." Her nails dug into my shoulders. "The official story says they’re extinct. That the last documented case died in 2106 during a failed drain on an incompatible Essentia signature."

I pushed deeper, watching her face as I filled her slowly. "And unofficially?"

"Unofficially—" She broke off as I bottomed out, her back arching. "Fuck. Unofficially there are rumors."

"What kind of rumors?" I started moving, establishing a rhythm that made her breath catch with each thrust.

"Classified cases." Her hands slid down my back, gripping my ass to pull me deeper. "Drain-types kept in containment for study. Testing facilities that don’t officially exist."

That was concerning. I’d process it later when blood was actually reaching my brain.

"How many?" I angled my hips differently, hitting the spot that made her moan.

"Unknown." Her voice came out strangled. "The NEA doesn’t publish those statistics. But the research suggests—oh god, right there—suggests that compatible Drain-types are exponentially more dangerous than incompatible ones."

"Why?" I kept the angle perfect, watching her lose the thread of academic discussion as pleasure built.

"Because compatible drains create—" She gasped as I thrust harder. "Create feedback loops that amplify both parties. Traditional understanding says Drain-types weaken their targets. But compatible pairs make each other stronger."

The drain between us widened in response to her words, as if it recognized itself in her explanation. Her Essentia poured into me and mine poured back into her, the circuit cycling faster with each movement of our bodies.

"That’s what we are," I said, not quite a question.

"Yes." Her eyes locked on mine, glowing faintly red from her thermal ability. "Which makes you incredibly valuable. Or incredibly dangerous. Depends on perspective."

"Yours?"

"Both." She pulled me down into a kiss that tasted like fire and honesty. "You’re the most interesting thing I’ve encountered in years. And I’m not letting the NEA lock you in a testing facility before I’ve finished my research."

Something warm bloomed in my chest that had nothing to do with the drain. I kissed her harder, my hips moving faster as the pleasure built toward its inevitable conclusion.

Her pathways blazed bright, heat pouring off her skin in waves that made sweat bead across my shoulders. The sheets beneath us were definitely smoking now. I didn’t care.

"Close," she gasped against my mouth. "I’m so close—"

"Come for me," I said, my hand sliding between us to find her clit. "Let me feel it."