It’s too much. Fuck sakes, I haven’t had sex in months, and her pussy, how wet she is, her heat, how she hangs on tight to my shoulders as she dry-humps the fuck out of me . . . I shoot my load into my pants. A groan rips from my throat.
Out of breath, out of my mind with need, hating myself that she helped me come while she got nothing out of this, I crush her mouth with mine and apologize over and over that she didn’t come. I should’ve had her come first. Taking my pleasure first isn’t me.
“You surrendered.” There’s awe in her voice. I put space between us. Her face softens, and there’s a shy smile. “I like that you, um, came.” Her face flushes a pretty pink. “It was downright sexy.”
“You’re not put out?”
She shrugs. “I’m fine with just one of us coming.”
She lowers her eyes but not her gaze. This girl is . . . I shake my head.
Needing to hold her, to see all of her, I shift us on the couch and get her on her back with my body off to the side on the large couch. I could easily crush her small, thin frame with my bulk.
“We’re starting our experiment early. We’re going really fast.” She circles her arms around my neck and does something I absolutely dig. She plays with the hair on the back of my neck.
“Are you scared?”
She shakes her head. Her dark hair is fanned around her like angel wings. Her glacier-blue eyes shine with an emotion I haven’t seen on her face—happiness.
“If at any time you are, or you want to slow things down, you’ll tell, right?”
She nods.
I bracket her in with my arms alongside her head. “What happened at the party changes the timeline. Remember my lesson when you have dinner with Rush and his parents. Don’t let him get you alone in the dark.”
“Because he’ll take advantage and use it to get into my pants?” She looks up at me with so much innocence and trust, I could fucking get down on my knees and beg her not to trust the predator in me. I’m the hawk circling above, and she’s the little mouse out in the open, nibbling on a blade of dew-covered grass.
“True that.” Sliding my arm under her body, I shift her so that she’s on top of me. “Back to the mouth-to-mouth action. I’ll surrender on one condition.”
“You already surrendered.” Her gaze dips between us.
Right. I jizzed in my pants. “I want a do-over,” I clarify. “I want to be better.” It’s a jerk move on my part to use her words against her, but I’m not ready to go to our separate bedrooms. I want this night to last longer.
I want this night to last longer? What’s come over me? I stare up at beautiful blue eyes full of wonder and anticipation. It’s Sorrow. She has me under her spell. A girl has never looked at me with wonderment.
They look at me as a piece of meat, another lay, an easy target because of my reputation for bedding and leaving them. Not all the girls cry when I refuse to sleep with them again. They smile with satisfaction. It’s because they did get me to sleep with them, like I have no control or restraint, but I do, damn it.
I can keep a tight leash on my randy beast.
Isn’t that the reason I haven’t had sex in six months? To prove to myself that I am more than a body? That I have feelings, self-respect, and restraint? Sorrow smooths out the line between my eyebrows. “Are you okay? You were staring off into space again.”
“Doing good.” I take her hand and press my mouth on the center of her palm. “Thanks for asking.”
This timid mouse has me, a predator, by my balls. I’ll go along with it for the rest of the night, but come tomorrow, it’ll be a different story. I’ll compartmentalize how good it feels to have her under and above me, with her looking at me with tenderness and awe.
We’re a few hours into this experiment of hers, and already she has the upper hand.
“Oh, good. I’m glad. I thought it was something I said or did. You’d tell, right?”
“Yes, I’d tell. Open communication is important.”
“Thank you, Trace. I need the practice. My parents were, um—” She folds her arms on my chest and rests her chin on them. “They were closed off. I only knew how they felt because of their actions, if that makes sense.”
“It does. Thank you for telling me, Sorrow. Keep talking about them, if you want to. It’s not helpful to keep everything bottled up.”
That’s the great thing about my parents. Unlike other kids’ parents, my parents and I keep in touch often when they’re away, and we have tough conversations when needed. The last tough conversation was about Sorrow and how I was treating her like shit since she moved in. I couldn’t deny what my father pointed out. Boy, he was pissed off, and rightly so. But how do I tell him he’s been treating my mother, his wife, the same way, taking her for granted and spending way too much time with his secretary?
I ran into them in the town center. Her arm was looped through his, and they looked too cozy for it to be a professional relationship. Do I tell my mother? Do I ream out my dad for cheating on her? It’s not my business, but it is.
