Total pages in book: 104
Estimated words: 98134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 98134 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 491(@200wpm)___ 393(@250wpm)___ 327(@300wpm)
“Help me?” I tilt my head, not sure what he means. “You have been helping me all night.”
“No,” he says, voice darker and deadly serious. I feel his fingertips on my stomach. They inch downward, stopping at the waistband of my jeans. “Let me help you.”
My lips curve up in a smile. “Who says I need help down there?”
I see his tongue slide across his lips, smooth as velvet. “Because I think you’re already soaking wet for me. Want to make a bet?”
I bite my lip. God, he is dirty, and I kind of love it. “Um. I was told I don’t have the impulse control or foresight to bet.”
His breath is hot on my neck. “Tell me you’re not already wet. Tell me you haven’t wanted to cum for me all day. Say the words, and I’ll go to sleep. I’ll leave you alone.”
“I was also told I shouldn’t tell lies,” I whisper.
Jesse’s breath hitches and his fingertips slip beneath my waistband. He finds me, fingertips sliding down until he confirms what he already seemed to know.
He starts doing that magic thing with his fingers again and I arch my back, forgetting all about the dull throb in my ankle or my doubts about our little arrangement. When his hands are on me, it feels like the perfect plan. The perfect situation. Why wouldn’t we do this whenever we can? What could possibly go wrong when it feels this good?
I’m breathing harder and I keep catching myself looking at him. I’m watching his downcast eyes and his long lashes. I’m watching his parted lips and the way his chest is rising and falling, his breath heavy from nothing but his enjoyment of doing this to me.
He isn’t asking me to return the favor. He doesn’t even seem to think I would be able to sleep with him, maybe because of my ankle. I have to admit I’m impressed he’s not just rolling me on my side and taking what he can get.
My thoughts start to lose their clarity. The edges blur until my brain is just full of happy mush. His fingers feel so good and I can sense the wave of release rising up.
I reach down, gripping his wrist hard with one hand and the back of his neck with my other hand. I pull his face into my chest. My whole body goes tight and I cry out. He pushes a hand to my mouth and shushes me as I cum for him. My body pulses with release.
When it passes, I feel emptied out and blissfully at peace. I smile. “Thank you.”
“The pleasure was all mine.”
I laugh. “Actually, I think that’s the opposite of how it went. I could… if you want.” I touch his belly, meeting his eyes.
He shakes his head. “You should be resting.”
I laugh again. “Says the guy who just used his magic fingers on me in the middle of the night? You think I’m going to be able to sleep after that.”
He looks down. “Sorry. It’s selfish of me, but I want you all the way when I have you. There’s… a certain way I want things to go. You’ll need your ankle for it.”
I frown, then giggle. “That sounds oddly specific.”
He looks embarrassed. “I don’t mind taking things a little slow.”
“Really?” I ask.
He doesn’t respond, and I try to puzzle out why he would say something like that. My brother has told me all about NHL guys. They treat sex as casually as going out for drinks. Why would Jesse have any interest at all in taking things slowly with me?
“Are you… not ready to do it?” I ask.
He waits a long time to answer. “Trust me. I don’t know if I’ve wanted anything as badly as I want to feel you–all of you.” He chuckles softly. “But, you’ve got some kind of hold over me, Andi. I keep trying to tell myself it’s only sex. Just bodies seeking satisfaction. I keep trying, but my brain wants it to be more. So… I guess maybe I’m hoping I can sort my shit out before we do anything.”
“Because you’re worried it’ll mean too much if we do it now?”
He doesn’t respond, but he doesn’t have to.
I smile in the darkness, scooting closer to him and resting my head on his bicep. I lift my eyes, looking up at him from below. “You must really like me, Jesse Prince.”
“Don’t do that.” He can’t even meet my eyes.
I plant a kiss on his arm, wrapping both hands around it. “You like me.”
One corner of his mouth twitches. “You’re attractive.”
“You think I’m pretty. And you like me.”
“You should get some sleep.”
“Oh, sure. Except, this hot NHL guy just snuck into my room, woke me up to finger bang me, then told me I’m so enchanting he’s afraid to sleep with me because he’s worried he’ll catch feelings. So, excuse me if I’m feeling a little wide ass awake right now.”