Total pages in book: 108
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 101736 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 509(@200wpm)___ 407(@250wpm)___ 339(@300wpm)
She wasn’t exactly skittish, but she was anxious. Her bashful gaze darted to me and then dropped to her hands resting on her legs, like she wasn’t sure what to do with them, or how to get back to where we’d been before the interruption.
But I had that covered.
“Come here,” I urged. “Sit in my lap.”
Her expression hung. She was a little scared and a lot excited to do it, and maybe she worried how she was going to execute the maneuver in the cramped back seat. I had moved my seat forward, and that had helped, but there still wasn’t a lot of space.
She slowly turned toward me, making the leather seats creak beneath her, and I figured I might as well help her. I put my hands on her waist and guided her, getting her to lift one leg over mine so she could plant a knee on either side of my hips. Her head nearly hit the ceiling, but she lowered in until she was straddling me.
“What are we doing?” Her tone was soft.
It wasn’t clear if she was asking about my lesson plan, what we were doing right this second, or if she meant in general. “Practicing,” I said. “We need to get comfortable with each other like this.”
She set her hands on my chest, looking awkward but trying not to. “Like what?”
“You know. Fucking around. Being more than friends.”
“Were we ever friends?” Her voice went plain. “You didn’t even recognize me at your graduation party.”
“That’s not my fault. I hadn’t seen you in years, and you showed up looking way too hot to be Colin’s little sister.”
She liked the compliment, even if she didn’t want to, but she had a point. We hadn’t hung out when we’d been in high school, and once I’d gone to college, I saw even less of her. I only knew of her, really, instead of who she was.
“You’re right.” My focus drifted away from her for a moment, and I stared at the darkening clouds on the horizon. “We weren’t friends, but that’s a good thing.”
Her tone was dubious. “How’s that?”
“I’m better than I was back then.” She could interpret my statement however she wanted, whether I was talking about how good I’d become at sex, or my personality.
It was true in both cases.
Cassidy and I had lost our virginity to each other, and the truth was I hadn’t a fucking clue what I was doing back then. Of course, at the time, I was sure I did. Worse, I believed I was amazing at it.
Naturally talented.
Fucking gifted.
Like me, Cassidy hadn’t known what she was doing either. She had nothing to compare me to, no way to know how much I sucked—which meant I didn’t get negative feedback from her. Really, I didn’t get any feedback at all.
No, that came from my other ex-girlfriend, Iris.
We’d dated my sophomore year at Vanderbilt and been together six months when she’d left her phone in my room by accident. My name in a text message rolled across her screen, catching my attention.
Apparently, she’d told her friends in a group chat about my less than spectacular performance, and I’d become a running joke to all of them.
The damage to my ego was intense, and fatal for our relationship.
After the messy breakup, I’d gone to visit Colin at his fraternity, we both got wasted, and I confessed all the hurtful things Iris had said about me. It was fucking embarrassing, but—shit. I needed help. I loved sex and wanted to keep having it, plus I was competitive.
If I was going to do something, it was important I be the best at it.
Colin had given me all the pointers he had, explaining I’d get better if I studied. He didn’t mean porn either. I needed real-life experience, to get hands-on with as many partners as possible, and be ‘open to their honest evaluation,’ he’d said.
If you needed ten thousand hours to be considered an expert, then I had to start honing my craft as soon as possible. And I’d done that over the last three years. Surprisingly, I’d gotten addicted to, like . . . learning.
Sex when we were both having a good time? It was on a whole different level from anything I’d had before. So, I was confident I no longer sucked. In fact, the last few girls I’d been with had told me, unprompted, how much I didn’t suck.
The first few raindrops splattered against the roof of the car, then built into a steady drum.
My hands were still on Sydney’s waist, and I subtly tightened my grip as I stared up at her. She was all wide-eyed and innocent looking, with a flush across her cheeks, and her chest moved rapidly with her uneven breath.
As if being this close to me was dangerous and thrilling.