You Again Read Online Lauren Layne

Categories Genre: Chick Lit, Contemporary, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 73
Estimated words: 69858 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 349(@200wpm)___ 279(@250wpm)___ 233(@300wpm)
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It had felt like a slice of real life, the kind of little moments that add up to big ones when you’re not looking.

Thomas hadn’t asked me to stay over, nor had I asked to. Somehow we’d just found ourselves in his bed, and instead of reaching for each other with restless, eager hands, Thomas had pulled me close, as though understanding that I was all up in my head and I needed a chance to sort my thoughts.

It’s the first time we’ve gone to bed without sex, and instead of feeling worried, it feels like another of those pivotal moments—a warning sign that this has become about something bigger than sexual release.

I rub my chin against his chest hair. “Do you think I’m a fuddy-duddy?”

He lets out a quiet laugh. “You’re a lot of things, Mac. That’s not a word I’d use for you.”

I tilt my head up and find him watching me steadily. “But am I getting boring? With the new job, and . . .” You?

His hand rubs over my hair, the thumb gliding on the blue. “You told her about your promotion?”

“Mm hmm.” I don’t elaborate on her reaction, but from his slight frown, I’m pretty sure he knows.

“I liked your mom, the time I met her,” he says after a moment.

“But?” I smile.

“And,” he says, smiling back. “She struck me as a woman who is very clear on who she is, and who likes who she is. That’s a rare thing, and a good thing.”

“Now the but,” I joke.

“But,” Thomas says, his arm pulling me a bit closer. “I wonder if maybe she isn’t so enamored with her way of life as the best way that it hasn’t occurred to her to let you form your own vision of what Mac wants.”

I shake my head. “She’s always been very into encouraging me to follow my own passions, not hers. It’s why I got into design, when she has no interest in that whatsoever.”

“Just because you forged your own career path doesn’t mean she wasn’t making you into a, uh, let’s say Mini-Me in other ways.”

“She didn’t make me anything,” I say defensively. “We’ve just always been cut from the same cloth.”

Thomas says nothing. He doesn’t have to. The gap of silence does it for him, forcing me to sit with some uncomfortable thoughts, to reframe some old memories, to reassess . . .

Me.

“My life was simpler before I met you,” I say, even as I stroke a finger over his jawline, grateful for his quiet nearness.

“Mine too,” he says quietly. “More boring though.”

“I thought you liked boring.”

“I did. But maybe you’re not the only one rethinking some things.”

I want to ask him what, but I’m too terrified that the answer will change everything. Too terrified that everything’s already changing.

Wanting a distraction, needing it, needing him, I slide a leg over his and shift positions until instead of lying beside him, I’m lying atop him, my legs straddling his hips.

“Reassure me,” I say quietly, running my hands up his chest, over the undershirt he’s sleeping in. “Reassure me I’m not a boring fuddy-duddy.”

“Well, now,” he murmurs, his hands sliding to my panty-clad ass, pulling me a bit further against his already growing erection. “It seems to me that a non fuddy-duddy would go to bed topless, and yet here you are, in one of my T-shirts.”

“Hmm.” I look down at the gray Dartmouth shirt I’d commandeered for the evening. “I guess I’ll have to take it off?”

“I think that’s probably best,” he says, with fake regret.

I take my time, easing the shirt upwards, halting the process just below my breasts, relishing the look of eagerness on his face before I tug it over my head, let it drop to the side.

“How about this?” I say, running a finger along the side of my breast, highlighting their nakedness. “Better?”

“A little,” he says hoarsely. “You still seem a bit reserved though.”

“Reserved, hmm.” I scoot up and lean forward slowly, positioning my breast just in front of his mouth. “And now?”

“Better.” His breath is hot on the tip of my breast, and I arch just a tiny bit, letting my nipple brush against his mouth.

Thomas lets out a tortured groan, his tongue giving my nipple a single teasing lick because his hand slides between my shoulder blades, pulling me all the way to him so his lips can close around me.

He sucks hard and I gasp, my hands bracing on either side of his head as he sucks on one breast, then the other, using his teeth to tease them into hard, aching peaks.

I feel a finger teasing around the edge of my underwear, slipping just under and then retreating, getting me wetter and wetter until finally a finger slips all the way beneath. Inside.

I cry out, and sit up, the position allowing him to slide a second finger inside me as he looks up at me with hot, silver eyes. “Show me,” he says. “Show me how unabashed you can be.”


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