Total pages in book: 103
Estimated words: 100523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 100523 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 503(@200wpm)___ 402(@250wpm)___ 335(@300wpm)
A hand curls around my shoulder. “Next time, just come into the shower,” he says in a low rumble. Pleasure zips down my back, and when I lift my face to his gaze, his eyes are glimmering with heat.
“I wanted to,” I say, even though he knows that. But it feels good to admit the truth fully and completely this time. It feels great to say what I want and to know—to trust—that the other person isn’t lying.
He runs his thumb across my shoulder, hard enough that I can feel a little buzz through the fabric of my sweatshirt. “I think I’d lose my mind if you joined me in the shower. Or if you found me in bed with my cock in my hand.”
That outrageously sexy image lodges front and center in my mind. Not sure it’s going to leave anytime soon. “Do you jerk off a lot? And in different places in your home?” I ask in a hushed voice. Because this feels like confession time. And I want him to serve up all the details.
“Yeah. Every day, easily. Bedroom, shower, couch sometimes. I live alone. I have a lot of energy and a very busy brain. So yeah, you could walk in on me in bed, enjoying a little self-care.”
I swallow, but that does nothing to abate the heat flooding me. “Me too,” I admit.
He licks his lips, then lets out an appreciative rumble. “I want to see that.”
I want him to. I want him to find me in bed. I want him to climb over me and help me finish.
All these mentions of next times give me courage. He’s right. I can’t hide behind milk and cookies. I want a next time with him, and I want his friendship for all time. I want everything, dammit. I sit up straighter, take his hand from my shoulder, and set it in my lap, clasping it in both my hands. “What if we did this sex thing while we do the four dates?”
There. I put myself out there without overexplaining, blurting, rambling, or backtracking.
I shut my mouth and wait.
But not for long. His slow, sexy smile tugs on my heart. It’s like the sun rising, warming me all over. I want to bask in its glow. Lift my face to the light. Let it heal my hurting soul.
Because I still hurt.
I still ache.
I’m still shut down.
With Carter, though, I feel safe from heartache. Shielded from pain.
“So, let me get this straight,” he says. “You want to help me fulfill my Date Night contract and let me make you come over and over in every possible way?” He gestures to the coffee table. “And you’ll also feed me cookies?”
Now.
I want that all now. All at once. “I’ll take one of everything,” I say, as I shiver from his dirty promises.
“Good. But I’ll probably give you two or three. I’m generous in bed.”
And out of bed since, well, he’s still shirtless. “But it’s not like I don’t get anything out of it. I get the sex thing too, and you’re giving me girlfriend lessons.”
“I’m in,” he says.
I sigh contentedly from the ease of the request.
Carter lets go of my hands to cup the back of my head and comes in for a kiss.
It’s soft…and tender.
My toes curl.
My limbs feel loose. He’s gentle this time. It’s more like a caress. And it’s a stark contrast to the way he kissed me on the counter. I want more of this kind of kiss too. The kind that has me melting in his arms.
But it ends far too soon. When he breaks it, he shakes his head, like he’s trying to clear the kiss.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, since worry is never far from me.
He scrubs a hand across his jaw. “I should have asked first.”
I roll my eyes. “Carter, you have blanket permission to kiss me. You did just fuck me like a rock star on the counter. We’ve agreed to more. You can kiss me whenever.”
“Yeah?” He sounds doubtful.
“Yes,” I say emphatically, and it’s sweet that he asked. I love that he wants to make sure I’m good with everything. But it’s unnecessary.
He doesn’t seem convinced though. “It just feels…like something a—”
Ohhh.
He doesn’t finish. But I can guess the rest of it. His reticence wasn’t over consent. He’s wondering if free kisses should be part of girlfriend lessons.
Because kisses can lead to feelings.
My heart sinks annoyingly. I’m a little disappointed that he’d worry I might get clingy. But rationally, I understand. He doesn’t want to lead me on. But that’s okay since I don’t want to be led. I don’t want a boyfriend. I don’t want someone who can hurt me. I’m not ready for real romance, and I won’t be for a long time. “Carter, we’re friends,” I say, trying to reassure him. “I want to stay friends. Neither one of us wants more. But I think we both want sex,” I say, hitting the flirt button a little harder now.