“Christ. I need to taste more of you. Has someone done that to you before?”
“No,” I whispered, a wave of heat washing over me with what he was about to do.
He moved down, tossing the vibrator aside before hovering over my center.
I shivered when he blew a breath at my cleft. “Please—”
“I know, sweets. I’ve got you.”
His mouth nuzzled my sex, and I could feel his stubble on the most intimate part of me. The friction made me want to wrap my legs around him and squeeze. When he inhaled my scent, I about combusted with a bolt of need thundering through my body.
“You smell amazing. Do you think you can hold your legs up with your cast?”
The thought of being exposed like that to him had me shivering in anticipation. “I’m not sure.”
“Here, grip the one with your good hand.” He bent my leg up, and I did as instructed, giving him access to all of me.
When he trailed his tongue down the entire length of my slit, it was all I could do to remain conscious, so wrapped up was I in undisguised pleasure. “Oh, God.”
“Mm, I kind of enjoy you calling me a god,” he quipped.
My retort died on my lips when his finger slipped inside of me. Squirming with the new sensation, I immediately desired more.
“We aren’t having sex. Is that clear?” He looked up from between my legs, meeting my eyes, waiting for my assurance.
As if I was the one with the ability to say no to anything at the moment. Nothing was clear except the fact that my brain was taking all its cues from my body. However my nod seemed to satisfy whatever line he was currently revising in his head.
I’d heard the expression eating her out, but never knew what it meant until he feasted his mouth on me completely. My hips bucked off the bed; I was so overwhelmed in sensation that I couldn’t control the intense reaction. His arms lifted my lower half, enabling him to push his tongue into me. My toes curled with the foreign sensation as I groaned his name, feeling myself build towards something I couldn’t identify.
But it had only begun, I discovered. His thumb found the tight nub I’d been searching for before he’d barged in, rubbing it in a circular rhythm. Watching his mouth on the most intimate part of me was not only erotic, but would forever stay etched in my brain. My entire body tensed and when his lips fastened onto my clit, I detonated. There wasn’t another word for it. No cute little panting or sexy moan, rather it was a bloodcurdling, wake-the-neighbors type scream when the bomb went off.
As I came down off my high, I opened my eyes and saw him sitting back on his haunches, looking conflicted. He continued to work his finger inside of me, spreading my wetness around as if he couldn’t stop touching me. “I shouldn’t have started this,” he murmured.
“Please tell me you’re not trying to alleviate your guilt while your finger is still inside of me.”
He inserted another one. “I can’t help it. I told myself after that last kiss—”
I kicked at his chest with my good foot. “My vagina is not a confessional, Colby Singer, so if you’re having second thoughts, then get the fuck off me.”
He crawled up the length of me, chuckling. “Sorry. You’re cute, by the way, when you say my full name with irritation.”
My eyes flashed, and he erupted into a fresh wave of laughter.
“Sorry, I didn’t mean to use the dreaded C-word. You’re sexy. How’s that word, instead? Was that your first orgasm?”
Way to change the subject. “Was it that obvious you robbed the vibrator of the honor?”
He smirked. “You’re definitely not quiet. Did other guys not know what they were doing or what?”
Worried he would ask about my experience and pick up on my lack thereof, I decided to deflect. I shushed my conscience with the knowledge he’d already made it clear we weren’t having sex. “Did you give girls orgasms in college?”
He flashed a PDG. “Of course, but then again, I had a lot of practice in high school.”
“TMI.” Pushing up in order to get a better angle, my mouth met his, cutting him off with a kiss.
Leaning back, I checked his eyes. “Does it make me weird to be turned on by the taste of myself on your lips?”
“Fuck, no, it’s beyond hot.” He dove back in, tangling his tongue with mine.
Enjoying his groan of pleasure when I sucked on it, then nibbled his bottom lip; I realized his hand was searching for something.
“Do I need to draw you a map of where to touch me?”
“Ha, I’m looking for—Ah, this little guy again.”
I glanced down, realizing he had the vibrating egg firmly in his hand. He flicked the switch, and the humming started. “What are you doing?”
“Let’s get this off.” He sat me up, helping to shed me of my T-shirt and thus exposing my body completely to his gaze. He sat back, taking it all in.
I couldn’t help but be somewhat anxious about being completely naked in front of him, but refused to let him see my nerves. The man had been with movie stars and models, but I was real.
“They’re perfection. Don’t ever think about getting implants.” He leaned forward, cupping my breasts, one in each hand.
I quirked an indignant brow. “Gee, sweet talker, I wasn’t thinking about it, but thanks for the unsolicited male perspective and the backhanded compliment.”
He afforded me a sheepish grin. “Sorry. Guess I’m used to women who automatically go there when they have real ones and voice their insecurities about, uh—”
“Choose your words wisely,” I warned, trying not to laugh at his contrite expression.
His head dipped down, kissing down each breast while his hand trailed the buzzing egg down to my drenched center. “Talking is what gets me in trouble.”
“Mm, here’s a tip since we’re into giving unsolicited opinions: don’t ever start a sentence with I’m used to or other women I’ve been with. Ever.”
He looked apologetic, and then stroked my slit with the vibrator. “Duly noted. You’re soaked.”
“The directions said I might need lube,” I offered up lamely.
“Not any more you don’t.”
“Oh—oh, wow.” I felt him put it inside me slowly. The invasion was unlike anything I’d ever felt before even if it wasn’t all that deep. I realized he was watching my face now.
“Tell me how it feels.”
“I—it feels good,” I stuttered.
“You’re stunning on display like this.”
“Do you wish it was you inside of me instead?” I had to ask and watched him shudder.
“We can’t. I have to have some stopping point with you.”
“Why?”
He heaved a sigh. “Because you’re too important, and the surest way I’ll fuck things up is to have sex with you.”
“But you wish you could?”
He nodded, closing his eyes. “Vaginal orgasm will be tough with this shape of vibrator. They have better ones designed to hit your G-spot.”
I flushed with pleasure as I felt him move the device in and out.
“Christ. I need to taste you again. Put it in while I suck on you. We’ll combine the two.”
I pulled my legs up, allowing more access. Watching as he bent down between my thighs, I felt a rush of heat course through my body with the dual sensation.
“I can’t get enough of this. Christ.”
The orgasm this time around hit me like a freight train. Bright lights danced in the back of my head while my body convulsed uncontrollably. I barely registered he’d turned the device off and was now raining kisses over my stomach, then up to my breasts.
“I’m a fan of the vibrator combo.”
He chuckled. “There are a lot of options when it comes to that.”
“Mm, I’m kind of thinking double penetration might be fun,” I quipped.
His face looked pained. “You can’t say shit like that to me.”
“Why not? You’re the one denying your
self, not me.”
He stood up, shifting himself. “Just when I thought I couldn’t get any harder.”
I licked my lips. “I could, ah, return the favor.”
He immediately appeared torn. “Have you ever?”
I didn’t wish to highlight my inexperience and, technically, I wasn’t lying. “The one time didn’t go very well. Would be nice if I had someone who’d tell me what’s good and what isn’t.”
“You want to practice on me?” His voice was pure raw sex.
I nodded, mesmerized when he pulled down his boxers. I could only stare. A hard male penis was a sight indeed. My only other reference point had been from some cheesy seventies video my freshman roommate had found in her aunt’s attic. We had drunk Boons Farm Strawberry Hill wine, sung along to the music, and then fallen into a fit of giggles at the copious amount of pubic hair that seemed to be porn-acceptable back then. I realized he’d been talking as I’d drifted.
“Blow jobs are all about having enough saliva, suction, and using your hands,” he offered as my first lesson.
My gaze flicked up to his and then down again, focusing on where he took his cock in hand. The vision of him touching himself sent a shiver through me. Per usual, I said what was on my mind. “Would you fit inside of me? You look bigger than I’m used to.” Not only was he long, he was thick, too.
His eyes floated closed. “We aren’t going to find out, but yes. If we prepped you, it would fit.”
“Prepped?”
“No more of this conversation. I’m already crossing a line I didn’t think I would.”
I reached for his hand, pulling him over. “Lie down, please.”
He complied, propping his torso up with pillows. “Wait. You need to get dressed first. No exposed lower half.”
I giggled. “Seriously?”
“Yes. I told you, we’re not having sex.” He got up and helped me put my T-shirt back on and then gathered my panties off the floor.
After dressing me quickly, he assumed the position on the bed.
“Which angle works best? Should I kneel between your legs or…” I wasn’t sure where to begin.
“Kneeling is fine,” he said tightly.
I took a hold of him. “It’s so soft.”
“Not exactly a compliment at this moment.” He looked like he was having trouble breathing.
“I meant your skin; it’s like velvet.” I watched him wince. “Am I hurting you?”
“No.”
“Then why do you look as though you’re in pain?”
“Because you’re killing me here.”
I smirked. “Then I guess I should get on with it. Tell me if I suck at it. Pun totally intended.”
Bending my head down, I wasted no time in licking him from base to crown. My tongue flicked at the drop of liquid appearing at his tip, allowing me the first taste of him. It immediately made me want more.
“Christ, Kenz—I didn’t mean to sound like a dick—pun totally intended, too—Oh hell—”
I took him completely into my mouth, enjoying the control I had over him in this moment. Running my tongue down his entire length, I ensured he was coated with my saliva and then sucked him slowly.
“Just like that. Put your hand at the bottom.” He demonstrated how with his fist curling around his base, and I followed suit. Using both my mouth and my hand, I found a rhythm, hollowing my cheeks, so I could take him all the way to the back of my throat.
“That’s it.”
I wished I had my casted hand free but did the best I could with the one, enjoying his expression of sheer lust.
“Suck it faster. Oh, sweet Jesus.”
I increased my cadence and felt his hips start to arch up. His thighs tensed with his breaths coming out rapid fire. “I’m going to come, Kenz.”
I had no idea if he was preparing me or merely vocalizing his impending orgasm.
“You need to stop if you don’t want it in your mouth.”
I didn’t slow down, opting to satisfy my curiosity instead. When the thick liquid hit the back of my throat, I swallowed it all down, milking him completely dry as he finished in my mouth. The salty taste wasn’t unpleasant. Besides, watching his eyes practically roll back in his head with pleasure was definitely worth the effort.
“What the hell was the terrible experience?” He was looking at me with a mixture of residual desire and surprise.
“Is that your douche bag way of complimenting me?”
He chuckled. “I didn’t mean anything by it, except that you definitely get to skip a grade or two with your lesson, and the only douche bag is the one who made you have a bad first time.”
I giggled and lay down on him, enjoying the feel of his skin beneath my face. The only thing better would have been if I had no clothes on, either.
He immediately stiffened. “No, no, we aren’t doing any cuddling with one of us naked.” He practically jumped out of the bed.
“Hmm, good. I’m tired.”
He laughed, putting on his boxers. “So, we’re, uh, cool after this?”
I rolled my eyes. “You’re such a dude. Yeah, we’re cool.”
“And you agree this is a one-time deal?”
“Huh, I don’t remember agreeing to that.”
“Kenz—”
“Hey, don’t you ‘Kenz’ me. You came in here denying my vibrator the pleasure of my first orgasm, mister, and now you’re going to start dictating rules?”
He acted as though he wanted to say something but instead concentrated on getting dressed. “Fine, you don’t need to agree because it can’t happen again.”
“Then don’t barge in the next time you hear a buzzing sound, and we’ll be good. Come to think of it, it’ll be easier once I’m back in my own place.” I pulled up my covers and lay on my side, pretending not to be the least bit affected by what had just happened or his panicked reaction.
He sighed, lay on the bed, and then curled up facing me, cupping my face. Something passed over his eyes, but quickly disappeared. “Don’t move out. Not yet.”
“Why do you crawl into bed with me every night?” If he was asking me to stay, then I deserved an answer to this mystery because, for a guy who didn’t seem to want a repeat performance, he was throwing mixed signals like a mad man.
He was quiet for the longest time and then spoke in a whisper. “Because I almost lost you.”
Of all the things he could have said, he picked the sucker punch. I expelled a breath and realized I was in serious trouble when it came to protecting my heart from this man. As if he didn’t have a majority share already, he was inching in to steal the entire thing.
He buried his face in the crook of my neck with his breath coming out unsteadily. “When I think about the car hitting you and then lying in the hospital bed trying to get a hold of me—I about lose it and need to hold you close.”
Pulling back, I framed his face with my hands, glimpsing the first raw emotion I’d ever witnessed from him. “If you feel that way, why can’t we—?”
He put a finger to my lips. “Because I meant what I said in the hospital. You deserve better.” He proceeded to kiss me softly and then fell asleep next to me the same way he did every night.
CHAPTER ELEVEN
It had been almost three weeks since our night of the vibrator takeover with, unfortunately, no repeat performance. Colby had been spending a lot more time in the office during the day, which he insisted was coincidence and not because he was purposefully trying to avoid me. I wanted to believe that, given the days he’d taken off following my accident, he was most likely making up for the lost time.
Currently, he was in Cabo San Lucas for a hotel crisis his brother had needed him to take care of. He’d only been away two nights, but I found myself missing his presence in the bed. That scenario hadn’t changed, and since it felt amazing to be wrapped up in his arms each night, I never did bring it up again.
Yeah, operation Get-Over-Colby-Singer was a big, fat failure. If anything, I
was more determined than ever to figure out why he was so convinced I deserved better. Was it because I was Brian’s sister? Or was it because of Colby’s reputation with women in general? Something told me it was probably a little of both.
Thursday morning brought great news in the form of cast removal for my wrist. My ankle wasn’t as lucky as the break was more severe, but at least I traded up into a removable boot, which meant no more plastic bags while showering. Matter of fact, after a quick trip to get a manicure and wax, courtesy of the spa certificate Sasha sent me to commemorate the occasion, the very first thing I did when I arrived back at the house was take the longest shower in history. It was glorious.
Colby texted me later that afternoon. “Let’s celebrate you getting your casts off tonight with dinner. You did get them removed right? I’ll be home about six o’clock.”
I was anxious to see and talk to him. Aside from some text messages to check in on me, I hadn’t actually had a conversation with him and missed the sound of his voice.
“What am I wearing for this celebration?”
“BRAT! Did you get the casts off or not?”
“Yes, the wrist is off permanently, but I still have to wear a soft boot on my foot. Prepare yourself, as my right arm will be naked.”
“How does it feel?”
“A little stiff, but good, all things considering.”
“That’s what she said.”
I laughed. “Rolling my eyes. I’m supposed to work on my grip strength. Any ideas?”
And now we both had the texting maturity of teenage boys.
“You’re a bad girl.”
“Who needs to be punished?”
“You have no idea. Now behave.”
“Hmm, you’re no fun. Now what am I wearing: jeans, a dress, panties?” I knew I was playing with fire, but damn, I missed flirting with him.
“A cocktail dress with granny panties.”
“You got it.”
“That was too easy.”
“That’s what he said. See you when you get home.”
“See you then.”
***
I was sitting cross-legged on his bed, so engrossed in playing my guitar for the first time in weeks, that I didn’t hear him come in. I was rusty and my fingers were stiff, so I went slowly, singing a stripped-down version of Adele’s “Set Fire to the Rain.”
Bet Me Something (Something Series Book 3) Page 13