I’d been close to orgasm before, and as he swirled his tongue over my clit, I found myself right back at the edge, my lower body humming with pleasure, my breath coming fast, my knees opening wider.
He slid a hand up my stomach to my chest, which was dripping with his cum. Stretching his fingers, he smeared it all over my breasts while sucking my clit into his mouth. The sight of it sent me barreling over the edge, the orgasm tearing me to pieces like he said he would. I cried out repeatedly as all the tension inside me eased in blissful beats against his tongue.
“Enough, enough,” I panted when the sensitivity grew too much to bear. “Stop.”
He got to his knees and looked down at me. Without a word, he took the hand from my chest and rubbed two fingers over my lips. I opened my mouth and licked them, sucked the salty sweetness off the tips, eyes locked on his.
The moment was so intense, it frightened me. In the silence I heard myself speaking words I didn’t want to say, feeling things I didn’t want to feel. I was on the hard kitchen floor, but it didn’t feel solid beneath me. It was splintering, breaking apart piece by piece—I had to get up soon or I’d fall through it.
“Wow,” I forced myself to say. “I’m a mess.”
Quinn made a noise between a groan and a laugh. “It’s so fucking hot. Do we have to clean you up?”
“Yes, we do.” I sat up all the way and looked down at my chest. “Or, rather, I do.”
“Let me do it.” Quinn popped to his feet, turned on the faucet, and started opening drawers. “Where are your towels?”
“They’re in the third drawer down, but I think I might just get in the shower and rinse off.”
“Oh. OK.” He turned off the water and gave me a hand getting to my feet. “Sorry. I guess I did make a bit of a mess.”
“Hey.” I didn’t want him to feel bad. “I asked for the mess, and I loved every second of it. It was my idea.”
“You did ask for it. That surprised me.”
“Really? After all the stuff we’ve done?”
“Well, yeah. That’s like a personal thing, jerking off. Not usually done in the company of others. In fact, never, for me.”
“No?”
He shrugged. “No. If there was a girl around, why would I? And no girl ever asked.”
“Finally, I’m first at something with you.” I pumped a fist in the air as I repeated his words from earlier tonight.
He laughed. “And what about you? Ever asked anyone to do that to you before?”
“Nope. Never even thought about it.”
“Yes! Another first. I feel like a god.”
I giggled. “I can give you a third one if you want.”
“Anal?” he asked hopefully.
“Uh, we’ll talk. But no, I was actually thinking of inviting you into the shower with me.” A shower was OK, right? It was personal but not too too personal. It wasn’t like doing it without a condom or sleeping over or peeing while he was in the bathroom.
“You’re inviting me into your shower?” He put a hand on his chest. “My God! This means you believe in love now, doesn’t it! I finally did it! And all I had to do was fuck my hand and shoot my load on your chest. How did I not think of it sooner?”
I shook my head and started walking away. “You’re insane. And I don’t like insane people in my shower, so I’m taking back my invite.”
“No way.” He followed me through my bedroom and into the bath. “You’re stuck with me, sweet pea. Face it.”
After turning on the light and blinking at the sudden brightness, I opened the sliding shower door and turned on the water. “Stuck with you, huh?” Facing him again, I pretended to look him over from head to toe. God, I was so lucky. Tonight was perfect. “I suppose there are worse things.”
Twenty-One
QUINN
I might not have a lot of talents, but I can get hard again pretty quickly after an orgasm. It’s not something you can pay the bills with (unless you’re Logan O’Toole, but that’s a different story), and it really only comes in handy in very specific circumstances, but I’m kind of proud of it.
That said, I didn’t want to fuck Jaime in the shower.
OK, that’s a lie—I wanted to, but I told myself I wouldn’t.
I had a good reason.
Jaime could make anything about sex. This wasn’t only because she was the sexiest woman I’d ever known without even trying, but because she felt comfortable with sex. It was safe ground for her.
I wanted new ground.
It had been a month since we’d been dating, and I was crazy about her. I couldn’t say that to her of course, because it would probably make her rock back and forth in agony, but the more time I spent with her, both in and out of bed, the more convinced I was that she and I had something special. I’d never had as much fun with anyone—she made me laugh at myself and let me laugh at her. I got such a kick out of listening to her tell me all the random stuff she knew—she was so curious about the stories behind things and people. Maybe it’s what made her go into advertising.
“Did you know Faygo red pop was created by Russian bakers who used their frosting recipe to create a new drink?”
“Did you know the Disney princesses don’t look at each other when they’re grouped together to preserve their individual mythologies?”
“Did you know that in New York, they call Coney Islands Michigan hot dogs?”