Total pages in book: 83
Estimated words: 87856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 87856 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 439(@200wpm)___ 351(@250wpm)___ 293(@300wpm)
My chest warms. My sex clenches. I'm his first here. I want this to be ours too. But—"That's actually… fuck."
"Yeah?" He slips his other hand between my legs. Rubs me over my jeans. "Lie down and you come on my face."
"Not here."
"It's not that private." He runs his fingers over the seam of my jeans. "I get it. I'd prefer that to this, but I don't care, as long as I get you off."
"Tricky—"
"Say it again, baby—"
Fuck. "Tricky, I… I want to go bareback with you."
"Fuck." His fingers curl into my inner thigh.
Even with my jeans in the way, I feel the sharp pinch. And I love it. "Not here. We don't have the privacy."
"Let's get to the bathroom. Right now."
"You would?"
"Fuck yeah," he says. "You're on birth control?"
"An IUD." My mom insisted when I went to college. She said I needed to be safe, all the time, just in case, and I agreed.
"Bathroom. Now."
"Tricky!"
"I'm not kidding."
"Is it even a single stall?" I ask.
"Fuck if I know."
"Maybe after." I turn toward him. "I still want to do this."
"I'm not sure I can concede." He runs his fingertip over the seam of my jeans again.
"You don't have to," I say. "But if we go somewhere else, you can… we can…"
"I can eat you out?"
"I meant—"
"I know. But that's what I want."
"More than bareback?"
"Yeah."
"If you're not ready, I get that." He runs his fingertip over me again. Resumes toying with my breasts. "If you are—"
"I am."
"Okay. Let's go now."
"No." God, his hands feel good on my skin. I could stay here, on the brink, forever. It's the best possible torture.
He undoes the button of my jeans.
"Tricky—"
"Tell me to stop if you want me to stop."
No. I don't want him to stop. I shake my head.
He undoes the zipper.
But my jeans are too high-waisted. There's no way he's getting what he wants here.
I can get what I want.
Everything I want.
I wrap my fingers around his wrists and bring his hands to my chest.
He cups my breasts with his palms, toying with me again and again.
I shift off him, so I'm more exposed, so I can bring my hand to his inner thigh.
He groans as I rub him over his jeans.
He turns toward me, moving closer, pulling my body toward his.
He kisses hard as he toys with me. Again and again.
And I tease him back, running my hand up his thigh, moving closer and closer to where I want to be.
He groans as I undo his button.
Then the zipper.
"Imogen—" He kisses me as I slip my hand into his boxers. "Fuck."
He feels good. He always does, but being here, in public, knowing I'm the one exposing him here—
It's really fucking hot.
I stroke him again.
I push his jeans out of the way.
And then I bring my lips to his neck.
He cups the back of my head and he guides me to exactly where I need to go.
Victory.
But I'm not a sore winner.
I don't brag. I wrap my hand around him. Then my lips.
He tastes good. Like soap and Patrick.
It's been a long time since I've done this. I've never really loved it, but right now I'm on fire.
The power, the control, the feeling of him under my thumb.
And the intimacy too—
The generosity of it—
Everything.
I tease him with a few flicks of my tongue.
Then I find the pressure he needs, the pattern.
He presses his palm into the back of my head, guiding me over his cock.
He brings his other hand to my breast. Toys with me as I take him.
Again and again.
That perfect cycle of his need and my desire.
He pushes a little harder.
Lifts his hips.
Groans way too loudly for the setting.
But that only winds me tighter, urges me further.
I move faster, harder.
He holds me right where he needs me.
Then he's there, groaning my name as he comes in my mouth.
I wait until he's spills every drop, then I swallow hard. I rise. I check our surroundings.
No one here.
No one saw.
Or they didn't care.
I start to right my shirt, but he shakes his head.
"Keep it that way." He does the button of the blazer, covering me, but just barely.
It's obvious I'm halfway out of my clothes under here.
And it's incredibly, painfully hot.
"You ready to go?" he asks.
I shake my head. "I have to finish my drink."
"No way, baby. You don't get off that easy." He fixes his jeans, pulls me into his lap, slides his hand under my jacket. "We can stay as long as you want."
"Yeah?"
"But I'm going to do this the entire time." He cups my breast and toys with my nipple. "I'm going to wind you so tight you burst."
"You promise?"
Chapter Twenty-Three
IMOGEN
Patrick toys with me for ages. It might be ten minutes. It might be ten years. I'm not sure. I only know how badly I need release.
When we finally leave, he doesn't pull into the bathroom. He doesn't stop me in the elevator.