Текст книги "Suite 269"
Автор книги: Christine Zolendz
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Текущая страница: 10 (всего у книги 14 страниц)
17
Jameson
“A relationship is as simple as algebra. Because when you look at your X all you wonder is Y.” @Kavon #ReallyY
Everything was quiet save for the slow, steady lap of the waves that washed along the sand. We spoke no words, just small glances between us, until the realization of how comfortable we were in the silence almost stopped me from breathing correctly. As I climbed to my feet, her brow arched in question, yet I didn’t answer. I didn’t like how I liked these feelings. Weird. Vulnerable. It wasn’t something I’d ever felt before. Thinking I needed to cool off in the water, I walked to the edge and felt the cool tingles of the ocean lick at my feet. The truth was, I could sit with Lexa Novak in absolute silence and not feel uncomfortable, and she could do so with me. When did we become friends? When did this contentment happen?
The questions and ease of us made me feel disoriented and quite surprised.
“Are you feeling restless?” she asked, sliding next to me as I stood gazing across the ocean. Our arms brushed each other’s and all I could do was pull her in front of me and kiss the nape of her neck. The long, perfect expanse of her skin as it glistened in the sun warmed my lips. I liked the ease of us. I liked this us thing we had going on.
“The sun is sweltering, yet you have this ability to make me shiver,” she whispered, looking out across the blue waters.
“It’s getting late. Let’s walk the beach and see what we can find,” I hinted and nudged my chin in the direction I wanted her to walk in.
“That sounds suspicious,” she giggled. Her laughter was infectious; it caused a continuous smile to be plastered on my face. I was acting like a lovesick puppy.
“As it should. Remember my job here is to fulfill all your fantasies. I think we could stumble upon one this way.” I reached down and threaded her fingers with mine. She tilted her head up to me and smiled, then leaned her head against my shoulder as we walked along the rocky beach. Just like two people in love.
Yet we weren’t.
We couldn’t be. We had to be the furthest thing from in love, because we only had these three weeks. That was it. It would be best to keep reminding each other of that. Repeatedly.
As the sun set, a brilliant, deep scarlet spread over the horizon. “What a beautiful sunset,” she said, smiling up at me.
I couldn’t tear my eyes off her. I rubbed at the sweat at the back of my neck. The way I was feeling made me clammy, gritty. It wasn’t normal—this reaction to a woman. It wasn’t normal at all. I’d always been allergic to thoughts about serious relationships with the wrong people. They’d make me break out in hives.
A small gasp escaped her lips, stopping all my crazy thoughts. Her eyes were looking just over my shoulder, right past a large rock formation that jutted out against the soft landscape. I narrowed my gaze to follow her line of sight when something that sounded like a soft sigh caught my attention.
This was what I had been walking toward.
Another fantasy to cross off her list.
Just a few steps behind the outcrop of rocks were two people sitting on a blanket, slowly kissing. The couple I paid a hefty sum of money to be here tonight, just for Lexa’s pleasure.
I heard Lexa gulp and practically choke on her own tongue as she stumbled back from the couple’s view.
Lexa tried to twist around in my arms, but I kept her there, facing the couple. “This was one of your fantasies, yes?”
“Yes,” she whispered, lifting her face to mine. She blinked her long lashes up at me. “But…I… What if they see us watching?” she murmured.
“Then be very quiet so they don’t see us,” I said, brushing my index finger along her jaw. She raked her teeth over her bottom lip, contemplating what to do. I grasped her jaw and gently pushed her gaze toward the rocks and the couple just beyond.
She stiffened—tensed her entire body and turned her head in a different direction.
Anger and determination punched me in the gut. Why was she so reserved and self-conscious about enjoying herself? I tightened my grip on her jaw and pressed the front of my body hard against the back of hers, trapping her in the position. There was nowhere for her to look but directly at the couple. I ran my lips against her neck, sliding them up against her ear and whispered softly, “They’re here for you. For your pleasure. Take it.”
Her breaths sped up. Holding her as tightly as I was, I could even feel her heart pulse and stutter against my arms. Like a caged hummingbird.
With her secured in my arms, my eyes focused on the couple. The sight was utterly mesmerizing. The woman, beautifully bronzed and blonde, lay along the expanse of a blanket with her head tilted up toward the darkening sky. Her eyes were closed—lips parted slightly with small whispers of moans escaping between them. She was leaning back on her elbows and her breasts stood half out of an untied bikini top—nipples hard and dark.
Slowly, my gaze moved across her body, from the swell of her tits to her tight flat stomach, and further down to where a dark haired man lapped his tongue in long, slow strokes between her thighs. I knew from where we stood Lexa was able to hear the wet sounds of his tongue and lips sucking and feasting on her flesh, because I heard it—loud and clear. I instantly had to shift my weight to relieve the pressure of my cock against my zipper. Lexa must have noticed, because her body’s response was to gently rock her bottom back into me.
Still leaning back on an elbow, the woman reached one hand up and slid it into the man’s hair, then lifted herself harder against his face. She tangled her fingers in his hair until her fists whitened.
Lexa trembled in my arms. “Do you like what you see,” I asked in a low, choked voice.
The woman looked down at the man, watching him now, and pushing her body harder and faster against his mouth.
“Yes,” Lexa said. Her voice was husky and low. Her fingers gripped my arms tighter and I could just barely feel the tight squeeze of her thighs against each other.
“If I slip my hand between your legs, would you be wet?” I asked.
“Find out for yourself,” was her silky answer.
There was a sharp pang in my chest, the feeling of the organ shifting and pulsing. The urge to have her was instant. My cock throbbed with sensation, aching to slip itself into her warmth.
I dragged my hands down her neck and over her chest, slowly tugging down the scoop of her collar and exposing her breasts. I tilted my head over her shoulder to watch as her skin puckered against the cooling night air and her nipples hardened into tight little pink peaks.
Slowly, I continued the drag of my hands over the soft curve of her belly and into the waistband of her bottoms. Her body arched forward, pressing her ass harder against my crotch. Both of my hands slipped over the course lace of her panties. She cried out a soft whimper as I pushed the crotch of her panties to the side with one hand and with the other, I slipped a finger through the folds of her wet flesh. Her panties were soaked and she was swollen and pulsing against my hands.
I began moving my fingers, sliding them hard and slow in and out, keeping a steady rhythm, trying to match the same movements as the dark haired man who was now pounding his cock in and out of the blonde woman on the blanket in front of us.
Lexa’s breaths became loud and frantic. I moved my fingers faster and harder, competing with the other man’s thrusts. When her gasps became too loud, I yanked one hand out from between her thighs and cupped it hard over her mouth, while the other continued to plunge deep inside her body.
Her pussy began to tremble and shake around my fingers until she was clutching at the hand around her mouth, trying to yank away.
I reluctantly pulled away my hands and let her spin around until she was facing me and pulling me in for a deep, hard kiss. She slid her fingers up my chest and through my hair, pressing her body into mine. Her hips swayed and rocked, brushing her belly over the front of my pants and making me even harder than I was before. “I want you,” she whispered against my lips.
“Take what you want,” I said. Shifting our bodies gently, I guided her towards the ground until I was leaning against the rough face of one of the rocks and she was straddling my legs.
She made quick work of unbuckling my pants and pulling out my cock, while the couple a few feet away from us continued to fuck. The sound of their wet skin slapping and their low moans our soundtrack.
She jerked at my pants, tugging them down around my knees, and sat down on my upper thighs, aligning her smooth, slick entrance along the base of my dick. Desperate need had me clawing my fingertips against her hips, pushing her closer. I wanted inside. I wanted inside more than I’d ever wanted before. Her hips bucked against me, moving and sliding herself up and down along the underside of my cock. I watched as she slipped and slid against me, rubbing the head of my cock against her clit, teasing me.
Her skirt was bunched up around her tiny waist, her breasts spilling out the neck of her shirt—she looked so dirty, so erotic the way she moved and rutted against me—pleasing herself.
Her half-lidded gaze looked up to mine as she lifted her body so the head of my cock slid just against her entrance. Her jaw tightened and I watched as she struggled to swallow. I understood. I felt the same knot in my throat. A lump of something large, hard, and beautiful, and the need to utterly devour it, swallow it down and let it drown in my flesh—raced through my bloodstream.
The tip of my dick slipped into her warmth, so slowly, so deliberately, my spine ached with heat—my chest surged with warmth.
“S’good,” she said hoarsely as she sheathed herself completely over me. “You feel so good, so hard inside me.”
I had no words. I couldn’t speak. I could only grunt and growl and drown in the sensations of her riding me.
Her ass bounced slow and steady against my thighs, my balls tightening with every wet stroke of her pussy. I grabbed at the fabric of the skirt wrinkled and shoved it up around her waist and fisted it tightly. Fuck, she had control over this whole situation. All I could think about was coming deep inside her. Every roll and grind of her hips as she rode me had me panting and begging for more. She arched her back and glided one hand down the front of her body until see reached her clit and began circling it slowly with her finger. Her gaze darted back and forth between watching the couple and looking down to watch what was happening between us.
I created a monster. Damn, that was hot.
I could feel the walls of her pussy thicken and swell, tightening around me. Tiny pulses throbbed and squeezed around me as she got closer to coming. Her breathing turned louder as I pressed my face against her chest and bit through the material of her shirt to suck her nipples. Louder and louder her moans became as my cock throbbed deep inside her.
A loud whimper from her had me clamping a hand tightly over her mouth. Her eyes widened and met mine. Her pace became aggressive, faster, and harder until she was crying out into the flesh of my hand and making me come, chanting her name.
We stayed connected, staring into each other’s eyes long after the other couple left. We had spread out along the soft sand, me on the bottom and her with one gorgeous leg sprawled over me as I played with the strands of her silky hair. Everything in my gut told me I should get up and walk. Get out of the embrace.
But honestly, I just didn’t want to.
It was later on that night that I realized how much trouble I was in. Lexa was taking a bath as I sat on one of the villa’s couches staring at the bathroom door she’d left open an inch. Ghostly strands of steam drifted out from the small opening and the smell of a fruity soap permeated the entire villa.
I knew she left the door ajar as an invitation. An invitation I had no plan of accepting because I had just gotten off the phone and was practically paralyzed with utter shock and confusion as to what had just occurred.
Her phone had been lying on the counter, buzzing and buzzing.
It annoyed me so much I thought about smashing it with something. I was sitting and waiting for Lexa, listening to her sing in the bathtub. The buzzing was interrupting my focus.
That’s the story I’m sticking to anyway.
Because there would be no other reason, no other excuse, for a grown man to invade someone else’s privacy by going through all their text messages. Yes, it was the buzzing. It was highly irritating.
I was angry. Livid. He was the idiot that cheated on her. He had no right to tell her how anyone else felt about her. No right to put her down and make her feel like he was the best thing she could ever get. It was me. I was the best thing for her. Me.
Then her phone rang and before I could stop myself, I answered, “Hello?”
There was a moment of silence. Then the idiot spoke. “I’m sorry. I must have called the wrong number.”
“Doubtful. Were you looking to speak with Lexa?”
“Yes. Is this…Excuse me, but whom am I speaking to? Why are you answering Lexa’s phone.”
“Asshole. You know damn well it’s Holt. What do you want?”
“I want to speak to Lexa,” he demanded.
I shouldn’t have said what I said next. I knew it was horribly juvenile, but I couldn’t not say it. “She’s too busy to talk. My dick is in her mouth and she doesn’t want to stop sucking it long enough to talk to you.”
There was a small gasp on the other end of the phone that made my ego about five sizes too big, but I continued shamelessly. “If you hold on for a few minutes you’ll get to hear her moaning as she rides my cock and comes harder than she ever came before. She calls out my name when she does it too. It’s fucking perfect.”
That’s when he hung up on me.
Shit.
18
Lexa
“All my high school buddies are getting into these serious relationships and I’m just here. Me, Myself, and Netflix. Pure Perfection.” @Kavon #Suckers #HappierThanYou #NetflixDon’tGetCramps
He left and slept in another room again last night. Right after we crossed two things off my list, he held me for a few minutes, softly rubbed his thumb along my chin and across the bottom of my lips, and then just left.
I knew it shouldn’t affect me the way it did. I knew it was just three weeks—but I ended up hugging my knees, sitting up in bed for the rest of the night, trying desperately not to cry. I ended up calling Mandy around midnight.
“Bahdfaufh,” was how she said hello.
“Mandy? Are you okay?” I asked, squeezing my cell in my fist to stop the sniffles from making an appearance.
“Hmmmmf. Ummm? Lexa?”
“Yeah, Mandy, are you okay? What’s going on?”
There was giggling and movement.
“Umm. Can I call you back in a bit? I can’t talk because I have Evan’s huge dick in my mouth.”
“Ew. SHUT UP!”
“Hmmmmf,” she answered back, and that was accompanied by a whole lot of gross slurping noises that made me instantly end the phone conversation.
Ten minutes later she called back, still giggling but more relaxed and nothing blocking her vocal chords from being heard.
“The visual of Evan’s dick in your mouth just made my ovaries shrivel up and die,” I growled into the phone. “Why in the world would you answer your phone when you’re that busy?”
“Answering phones with a whole lot of dick in your mouth seems to be all the rage now,” she whisper-yelled back.
“What? What are you talking about?”
“Nothing,” she sighed heavily, “Forget it. It’s just…what’s going on? You’re on the fantasy honeymoon of your life and you still have a prude stick stuck up your ass? What? Does Holt have a small willie?”
“Shut up, no. He’s abnormally huge, and beautiful, and is crossing fantasies off my list at an alarming pace,” I whispered back.
“Ooookay. But you sound really unhappy,” she said. I could hear her cover the phone and tell someone, most likely Evan, she’d be back in a few minutes. “Okay, I locked myself in his bathroom so we could talk. What’s going on?”
“I really love having sex with Jameson.”
“That’s good, right?”
“I really love spending time with him.”
“Oh, no,” she said.
“Yeah. I think I like it a little too much. Like I wouldn’t mind if we both quit our jobs and stayed here for the rest of our lives so we could further investigate every single fantasy everyone who was ever born has ever had so he could try it out on me.”
“Oh. No,” she gasped.
“Oh. Yes,” I said.
“No.”
“Yesssss.”
“Nope.”
“Yeah.”
“No, no, no.”
“Okay. This isn’t helping me at all,” I snapped.
“What have you done so far?” she giggled and gave me a half moan. Son of a bitch, was Evan in the bathroom with her? “Can he give you like five minutes to speak to me?”
She shooed him out of the bathroom, promising things I would never have thought to put on my list. “Okay,” she cleared her throat. “What’s been crossed off so far?”
“I’ve had a sexual revelation in the back of a cab—in broad daylight—just by his fingers. I’ve been completely dominated and ravished and had anal. Then had some strange guy watch us.”
“Sounds like my first date with Evan,” she laughed.
“This isn’t funny. I need advice.”
“For what? You sound like you are having a helluva time,” she laughed.
“Yes. I am. That’s the problem. I don’t want it to end. Every night so far after we finish the most amazing sex I ever had he leaves me to sleep in a separate room,” I groaned. “It ruins the entire thing, because I feel like he’s just doing this as a charity case. I’ve turned into a pity fuck.”
“Lexa, really? Come on. Holt seemed really into you. He wouldn’t do this if he didn’t like you.”
“Then why does he leave me alone every night like he needs to get away from me?”
“Sweetheart. Cut the bullshit, okay. This was supposed to be an exercise for you to ask for the things you want. Sexually and otherwise. Come straight out and ask him. This isn’t high school and he certainly isn’t Trager.”
“And if he doesn’t have the same feelings?”
“Then you move on, just like the rest of the world does when things are over.” There was a brief hesitation then she huffed loudly into the phone, “But why would you think he wasn’t into you? He’s been showing you a good time, right?”
“Yeah…It’s just…I’m starting to really like being with him. And I have to keep reminding myself to hold back, you know?” I sighed into the phone. “He’s my boss and keeps telling me how emotionally unavailable he is. We can’t possibly have anything more than what it is right now.” I stood up and rubbed my hands down my face. “I just don’t want to be one of those women. I know I can’t change anyone. I know there’s no such thing as the one—forget it—this is stupid. We’re having fun. I’m forgetting about Kevin. It’s all good. It’s just sex. Good sex. Really good sex.”
“That’s a girl! On another note… A bunch of other people got their walking papers at the magazine. This rag is going down.”
“I sent an entire years worth of articles to Remington Holt. He doesn’t want to see what’s right in front of his face. I could do this. I could save that magazine, but he just won’t let me.”
“I know. So maybe you should talk to Jameson.”
“Yeah, I guess so.” There’s no truth behind my words, because I am still too damn scared to.
Pleasures.
That was the name of the strip club we stood in front of.
There was a line of men just inside the door, laughing and knocking fists with each other. The only other girl stood opposite me behind a plate of thick glass, wearing a sheer ballroom gown that looked more invisible than anything else. “Welcome to Pleasures, I hope you enjoy your time here,” she purred over my head toward Jameson. She gave me a nonchalant smile and rolled her eyes to the next group of men in line. I wondered how she came about working in a place like this.
Jameson threaded his fingers through mine and tugged me along the dark lobby; through a group of bouncers who practically stripped us down and dressed us right back up. “This was your fantasy, sweetheart. Just remember that.”
Why the hell would this be a thought in my mind I had no clue. I guess it was something I always wondered about.
We walked into an enormously crowded room that centered around a cluster of stages with poles and half-dressed women of all sizes. Smoke billowed white and thick through the air and a slow, erotic song thumped lazily through the speakers.
Jameson nodded to a petite cocktail waitress that wore a shiny leather cat suit and flicked a few dollar-bills into her hand. He leaned down and spoke with her, but I heard nothing of what he said. The music was too loud, but the heat in her eyes as she watched his lips as he spoke to her captivated me. Was it her job to make him feel wanted? Or did she honestly want him? His eyes flittered down to her lips and back up to her eyes as she spoke back and my chest burst into heat. I darted my eyes away quickly, wanting to get rid of the unwanted ache beneath my ribs. I had no right to Jameson. No right. Just three weeks. Three weeks in paradise and we never spoke about them being exclusive. Yet the thought of him touching someone else the way he touched me was agonizing.
Around us, men watched the dancers, eyes half cast, lips against their drinks—hands squeezing the knee of their pants. The dancer closest to me was slithering along a narrow catwalk on her hands and knees, completely naked. She eyed me and leaned back on her heels, facing me. Her breasts were tiny, capped with miniscule brown nipples that she fingered and rubbed for my viewing pleasure. Her eyes looked bright, young. I wondered if her parents knew she was here. I wondered if someone slept next to her at night and blocked out the leers of the men that surrounded her. I suddenly felt dizzy and my stomach rolled angrily. This place wasn’t sexy at all. It was full of sadness. Desperation.
Jameson pulled me through a group of tables following the pretty cocktail waitress and led me to a small round table with two seats. A small sign bent over the surface read Reserved. My eyes scanned the room another time before I sat down in the chair Jameson pulled out for me. I wanted to examine the entire room—take stock of every little thing around me. Yet all I saw—all I felt was a deep emptiness. Two tables from us a dancer, waitress—whatever, had her legs straddled over the lap of an older man. He was almost bald except for a dozen or so bright white strands of hair that seemed to spring from his ears, and dressed in a stained wife beater shirt and a pair of thin, worn out jeans. The woman looked adoringly at the man with a sort of wild desire, pressed her breasts against his face, and whispered things close to his ear. She leaned her head back and darted her tongue out over her bottom lip. The old man laughed wide with a completely toothless grin—a gold wedding ring glinted blindingly off his left hand.
“What would you like to drink?” Jameson’s voice murmured against my ear, startling me back into facing him. Bleach? Rubbing alcohol? Antibacterial Soap?
“Something in a clean bottle,” I answered, idiotically.
Jameson leaned back and quietly spoke with the waitress again. She pressed her breasts against his arm as he spoke to her then added her inner thigh into the mix. I heard the rush of blood pound through my skull and a layer of cold sweat beaded above my eyebrows.
Once our beers were served, we drank in silence. The only constant was the steady hold of Jameson’s eyes on me. “Does this excite you?” he asked, reaching up and running his finger softly beneath my chin.
“No,” I said, swallowing hard, not wanting to look at him.
He cocked his head to the side and smirked.
I blew out a heavy breath and shook my head. “I just keep thinking about all the girls and their stories. About why they’re here. Is that weird?”
He shrugged and leaned back. “Is that what you want to really know while you’re here?”
I wasn’t sure. Did that make me prude or frigid?
With a flick of his hand, he called our waitress back over and made her stand closely between us. She watched him in rapt attention—his eyes were still fixed on mine. “Ask her. Everything you want to.”
My eyes darted up to hers. She turned her attention to me, and suddenly, I was the center of her universe. Her eyes lit up and her smile was wide, beautiful, and just for me.
“How old are you?” I asked hesitantly.
“Twenty-two,” she answered, giggling and biting down on her lip.
“Have you always wanted to do this?” I said, darting my eyes toward the stage.
Her smile grew wider. “I’m in college. Studying to be a make-up artist. This pays the bills for now.” She leaned in further. “I don’t dance yet; I’m just a cocktail waitress. But I can’t wait until I start dancing up on the stage. I’d like to get bigger boobs before I dance though.”
What the hell do you say to that?
“Oh. Well your boobs look wonderful just the way they are…”
She edged closer to me. “I like your boobs. Lift up and let me see them.”
“Um. No. That’s not gonna happen,” I snorted, leaning away from her.
Behind her, I could see Jameson laughing. Then he slid a bunch of dollars into her hand and the next thing I knew, she was rubbing her ass and boobs all over me. It was so shocking it paralyzed me. Her skin was soft and smelled like dark vanilla and low moans rumbled from her throat. I squeezed my eyes shut to stop myself from throwing the bitch off my lap and running like hell, but the minute I opened them, all I saw was Jameson. His eyes locked on mine, lips parted and breathing getting heavy. Was watching us turning him on?
The waitress looked back over her shoulder and crawled slowly onto his lap and my heart tore right out of my chest. Sparks of painful heat burst out along my skin as her tits bounced before his eyes and her ass pushed into his lap over and over. His jaw locked tight. I watched the muscles of his face clench and twist as his eyes flittered back and forth between us.
It hurt like hell. I didn’t want him looking at her and comparing us. I’d just come up lacking. I just wanted him to look at me.
My hands fisted against my legs and I wanted to scream and rip her off him.
That’s when I realized—when I finally faced the truth—I didn’t want to see him with someone else. I couldn’t. I was completely falling for him. His eyes were back on me while she grinded her ass into him. A heavy feeling spread across my chest and burned in my belly. I gave him a shaky smile, the only thing I could muster, and I stood up to leave. I needed too. Let him go home with her tonight. Or whatever it is that goes on here.
“Where are you going?” he asked in a husky voice.
“I’m not feeling so well,” I mumbled, “I need some air.”
“Okay,” he said, as the woman—the girl—continued to dry hump his crotch. Her hands were wrapped around his neck, her little bikini top was pulled around her perfectly rounded little breasts and her nipples were brushing up against his jaw. “If that’s what you want. I’ll catch up with you later.” His eyes glanced from me to her nipples and back to me.
If that’s what I want? I wanted to throw cold water at them and stop them from doing what they were doing. She looked like a dog in heat. I wanted him to run after me. Tell me he didn’t want her. I wanted him to tell me he only wanted me. I wanted to be enough.
Damn it. This was all wrong. I shouldn’t be feeling this way.
I needed to get back into reality. He wasn’t mine. I had no right to be jealous. I had no right to anything. I walked quickly out of the club and jumped in the first cab I saw, praying like mad the driver didn’t turn out to be a serial killer, although with the way I was feeling right about then, he’d be the one found chopped up in a suitcase in the back of a stripper’s car.
When I arrived back at the villa, I changed into a comfortable sleep shirt, slid under the safety of the bed covers, and curled into a ball. How could he do that to me? How could any man stay there with those women when the people who really feel something for them are waiting for them back home or in stupid fake honeymoon suites?
A minute later, I heard the door to the villa open and heavy footsteps thump down the hallway. Within seconds, James climbed into bed next to me and wrapped his arms around me. The feeling of relief was unreal. My eyes burned with emotion as I hugged his arms and nestled in closer to him.
“You okay?” he asked, warm breath tickling my ear.
All I could manage was a grunt.
“It’s hard to talk to people and tell them how you really feel. What you really think, huh?” he whispered.
“Easy to say things through email or private messages,” I murmured, “or when intoxicated.”
“You should just say the things you want, Lex. I told you I’d give you anything you needed here.” Here. Only here. That was the catch, wasn’t it? That was the thing that hurt the most. We had a time limit and the fantasies in my head had been projected into the far future where we were something other than the fun we were having. “Tell me what you want, Lex.”
I bit down on my lip and squashed up my face to stop any emotion from peeking out. Even though we were playing this fantasy game together, I could never tell him what I really wanted. His answer would be a resounding no and that would mess up the time we had left. “Just stay with me tonight.” My voice shook with stupid, stupid insecurity. Moronic vulnerability. What we all at one time suffer from. Fuck, guys don’t get it. All us women want is to be wanted. Cherished. We didn’t want to have to ask for it or beg for it.
And we wanted to be enough to deserve it. We want to feel like someone knows we’re worth it. We want someone to stay. Pick us out of the rest of them. Be everything for that one person.
He crawled under the covers and slid in behind me, molding the length of his body perfectly around mine. A knot twisted itself deep beneath my breastbone, spreading a disorienting warmth low into my belly.
“I think about sleeping like this every night,” his voice was low—his lips pressing against the back of my neck and sliding slowly, reverently over the base of my skull and across the soft skin of my shoulders.
