Total pages in book: 80
Estimated words: 78108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 78108 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 391(@200wpm)___ 312(@250wpm)___ 260(@300wpm)
I leave, and while I really should mull over his points, that’s not what I do. My feet take me straight to the main bedroom. There’s only one place I want to be.
She’s asleep, though, so I’m quiet as I get ready for bed, stripping down to boxer briefs and brushing my teeth. When I’m done, I climb into bed, next to her, feeling a little unburdened, a little less guilty.
But still guilty in a whole new way.
How could I ever give her what she deserves? Maybe Sawyer’s right. It would take a choice from me. What if I do it poorly? What if I don’t have the skills to do love, like I have to teach it?
Sure, I could try to figure out my stuff better. Try to work on all these walls I erect. But is it fair to work on them with her? I don’t think it is. It’s not fair to ask her to wait for me to become a better partner either.
My heart twists painfully. I hate that feeling so instead I steal a sniff of her hair, that vanilla-honey scent going to my head.
Making me think maybe someday.
When her eyes flutter open, though, I’m thinking one thing. Now.
“Hey,” she whispers.
I half want to tell her that Sawyer figured me out, but when she cups my cheek and strokes my jaw, I don’t want to talk at all. I cover her warm body in one swift move, grabbing her wrists, pinning them above her head, and dropping my mouth onto hers.
She wraps her legs around me, hooking them over my ass. She’s soft and pliant, arching up into me, asking for what we both desperately want.
I kiss her harder, and at times like this, words only get in the way. But there are a few I need to say. I wrench away and meet her gaze. “Sawyer is staying the night. Can you be quiet as I fuck you?”
“I can try.”
I shake my head as I shift my body next to hers. “You have to, Juliet.”
She smiles. “Then you’ll have to make me be quiet.”
Challenge accepted.
27
QUIET TIME
Juliet
It’s hard to stay silent when Monroe’s strong hand travels down my stomach, then inside my panties.
But I impress myself with my silence skills even as a shiver runs through my body. A shiver that makes me want to moan.
“How long have you been like this?” he whispers as he coasts a finger through my wetness.
“Well, I was asleep,” I say quietly.
He dips his face to my neck, dusting kisses there while he explores my slickness. “Doesn’t mean you aren’t soaked.”
“Are you asking if I was dreaming of you?”
“Or playing with yourself when you got into bed.” It’s less a question and more a statement. Or maybe a hope.
“You want that,” I say.
“Want to see that. Want to watch that, Juliet,” he says, his voice low, his throat going all rumbly, his eyes a little hazy as he, clearly, pictures me naked in bed, getting off to images of him.
“Maybe you need to be quiet,” I challenge.
He tests me, though, two thick fingers traveling between my thighs, then returning to my aching clit with quick, strong strokes. His touch makes it hard for me to keep teasing him. Or to think at all.
My brain starts to go offline, my thoughts turning to colors, bright and hot. The way he touches me feels like more than foreplay. He touches me like he treasures me. I’ve never been touched like this, with such filthy reverence.
I lift my hips up, seeking more, then finally finding the words to answer his first question—how long have I been this aroused. “I didn’t touch myself in bed. This is all from just now,” I say.
A groan seems to come from the depths of his soul as he lifts his face. His blue eyes are flames. “Yeah? From kissing?”
“Is that so hard to believe?”
Like he can’t help himself, he pushes his body against me, so I can feel the hard length of his cock nudging my hip. “No. But I fucking love it.”
More strokes. More mesmerizing brushes of his talented fingers. More sensations overloading my mind.
“And maybe from earlier,” I murmur, breath coming faster. “When I sucked your dick.”
The fire in his eyes blazes. “You’re such a good student, Juliet.”
“Was I?” I know he liked it. But I want to hear that from him.
“Yes,” he groans. “A perfect—” But he stops, catching himself, then smiling wickedly. “But you need more fieldwork.”
I laugh softly as my hips tilt up. “That’s your assessment?”
He nods, a glint in his eyes, a quirk in his lips. “Lots and lots of courses.”
I hear what’s underneath that too, and I love it. I love it too much.
Monroe spins away from me, grabbing a condom from the nightstand, then shoving off his boxer briefs.