I think about lying, but something about this girl draws me in, and I think she could crack me open, and I’d let all my secrets seep out, and I don’t think I’d be mad about it.
“Marine.”
Her mouth falls open. “You were in the Marines? she asks, leaning in a little closer, her long blonde ponytail now falling over one shoulder, and I imagine wrapping her silky hair around my fist, tugging her head back as I take her from behind.
“Yes.”
“That’s hot. Maybe I should fuck you.”
I clear my throat and cover my mouth to hide my smile. She is so unexpected in the best way. I never know which version ofher I am going to get when she opens her mouth. Sweet Noelle, Bratty Noelle or Flirty Noelle, and secretly I love it.
“Did you get to keep the uniform?” She asks with a waggle of her brows.
“Yes, why? Do you have a fetish for men in uniform?”
“No, but my old roommate at college, she slept with this Navy Seal, and oh my god, she said it was the best sex of her life.”
“Really?’ I ask as I sip my champagne.
“Yeah, made her come three times, I mean, who does that? What a champ.” I choke on my drink and bang my chest to regain an even breathing pattern.”
I lean forward and she meets me halfway across the table.
“Noelle if you haven't been able to come three times in one night, then you have been with the wrong men,” I say, my voice low.
“Oh, really? You sound very confident there. Are you saying you can make a woman come three times in one night, Beckett?” She says with a teasing tone.
We lean back into our seats, and I press my lips together in amusement, loving the way my name sounds when she says it.
Oh, you have no idea.
“It’s three times minimum with me, Noelle.”
I am having so much fun with this girl, I’ve forgotten all about my shitty day.
“So, how old are you anyway?” She asks.
“How old do you think I am?” I throw her question back at her.
She narrows her eyes, schooling my features and chewing on that damn lip again that has my dick stirring to life. Truthfully, I am just thankful that he’s still working. I was worried today's events had stopped me ever getting the urge again.
“Thirty-one.”
“Close.”
“Care to share?”
‘Thirty-five.”
“Oooh, you are old,” she teases, biting down on her lower lip again, her eyes dancing with mischief.
That damn lip.
“I prefer experienced,” I say, my tone suggestive.
“Oh, I have no doubt you’re full of experience and could teach me some things.” She winks, and I am a fucking goner.
Oh, angel, you have no idea what I’d like to teach you.
