Total pages in book: 135
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 132321 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 662(@200wpm)___ 529(@250wpm)___ 441(@300wpm)
Heat slides over my skin. Am I really asking this? I’m pretty sure I already know the answer. “How come, and please don’t let this go to your head, you’re, um, a lot bigger than any other experience I’ve ever had. But it doesn’t hurt?”
Instead of the laughter I expected, dead silence fills the space after my question.
Finally, he takes a deep breath and asks in a much calmer than he looks voice, “Did any of those other experiences ever bother to warm you up?”
“Not the way you do,” I admit.
He slides his fingers over my shoulder and down my arm. “Your body needs to be ready.” His hand slips between my legs and he groans. “You don’t have any problem getting wet. I’m guessing whoever you were with didn’t bother with foreplay.”
Now that I know the difference, I can say, no, there was never real foreplay.
“Your mind’s important too.” He strokes his fingers through my hair. “If you’re anxious or worried it’s hard for your body to get excited.”
I squirm closer and rest my hand on his chest. “Are you always so considerate and patient? Or am I receiving such a robust education because you want to be a good teacher?”
The tenderness in his expression vanishes. He rolls to his back and throws his arm over his forehead. “Fuuuck me,” he mutters.
“What?”
“Nothing.” He stares at the ceiling for so long fear prickles over my skin. Is he mad at me?
“Thank you.”
He flicks his gaze to me. “For?”
“Being such an excellent teacher and letting me ask weird questions. Even if I annoy you.”
He sighs and pulls me closer. “You don’t annoy me.” He glances over. “Now will you tell me what your asshole ex said that made you think you’re not good at sex?”
“No. It’s too embarrassing.” I lift my chin. “Besides, it doesn’t matter anymore. You’ve proved him wrong.” When he doesn’t answer right away, panic claws at me. “Right? You think I’m good?”
“I think you’re perfect.” His gaze shifts to the ceiling again. “And I hope to fuck you won’t try to waste your time winning him back.”
“What?” I push up. “Why would you think…that’s not what this is about.”
His jaw clenches tight. “Isn’t it?”
“No. Look, just say it if you want to. We’re done with lessons. You’re done.” I choke on a sob. “With me now.”
“What? No.” He sits up and pulls me against him. “Why would you even say that?”
“Because we had sex. It was amazing. You don’t have anything else to teach me.”
He rumbles with laughter, but there’s a hard edge to it that leaves me uneasy. “How wrong you are, little one.”
Tingles of desire push my concern and exhaustion away. “Oh.”
“I told you I was happy you bought that big box of condoms.” His fingers trace a lazy path between my breasts to my stomach. “There are still many, many things left to teach you.”
Jigsaw
“I’m looking forward to learning them.” Margot seems less hesitant.
Fuck, for a minute there, I was going to agree with her and say, yeah, let’s call this good.
But I can’t fucking do it.
“Did you say something about food before?” I pat my stomach. “I’m starving now.”
“Yes.” She sits up quickly, like she’s worried she hasn’t been a good hostess. “I made a baked sausage and cheese rigatoni earlier. I was planning to freeze it and have it throughout the week.”
“That sounds good.”
She blows out a relieved breath. What’d she think I was going to do, reject a home-cooked meal?
Being with her is so comfortable, I sit up without thinking and swing my legs over the edge of the bed, tapping the lamp by her bed on.
Behind me, she gasps and moves closer, her knees rubbing against my hip.
“Who did this to you?” Her feathery touch against the ancient scars crisscrossing my back sends a shiver down my spine. Why does this one tiny woman have the power to make me tremble?
Who did this to you? Not what did you do? Most people assume it was an accident or even that the scars were self-inflicted. The ink I tried to cover it with didn’t quite get the job done.
“My father.” None of the shame I usually feel from admitting my own flesh and blood enjoyed whipping me to shreds comes with the admission. The twisted glee I sometimes get from shocking people with the truth is absent too. Understanding. That’s all I want from her.
“Your father?” Her voice soft and pained.
Unable to speak, I nod.
Light, feathery sensation slides over my skin. “Does this hurt?”
“No. It feels…weird, like, less sensation in spots. But it doesn’t hurt anymore.”
Heat from her soft naked body. Something wet splashes against my skin.
Having her at my back, touching me but not looking directly at me, makes it easier to say, “He was a mean fucker.”
“What about your mother?”