That’s not nearly enough.
I officially have it bad.
26
Cooper
Waverly hasfreckles on her belly.
Not many—just a smattering—but I’m connecting them with my tongue, and let’s be honest here.
There’s no better way to wake up than a rousing game of connect-the-freckles-on-Waverly’s-belly-with-my-tongue. Especially when this rousing wake-up game will be followed by more orgasms posthaste.
Her skin wavers beneath my mouth as she giggles. “That tickles.”
“Good or bad?”
“Good, but you’re getting close to—ooooh, yes.”
I smile into her softness as my thumb brushes her clit and her legs part wider. I don’t know what time it is. The sun’s shining brightly through the gauzy curtains in her second-floor bedroom in the Hollywood house she grew up in. Everything’s ivory and gold, with arched windows supported by columns, and if it weren’t for the very down-to-earth woman running her fingers through my hair grounding me in this plush, silky-sheeted, massive bed, I’d feel a little out of my league.
I grew up here, she told me when we got here yesterday afternoon.I don’t think I’d pick it if I was house-hunting, but it makes me feel close to my mom whenever I get back to LA, so I keep it. I still sleep in my old bedroom. Wanna see?
And I’m going to quit thinking about how I’m fingering Waverly in her mom’s house in her childhood bedroom and concentrate instead on the fact that I’m with Waverly.
Period.
“This is way better than the All-Star stuff,” I tell her belly button.
“You’remyAll-Star.”
I slip one finger into the slick heat between her legs, and her breath catches.
Yeah.
Definitelybetter than all of that All-Star stuff. This is helping my bruised ego over not being there this year.
“I’m—oh, yes—canceling every—god,Cooper,how?”
My lips drift lower, and I shift in her silky sheets to move my whole body down. Her pussy’s bare—freaking costumes and societal expectations, she said yesterday when I asked—and I’m fascinated. “How what?”
“How—so good—everything—but not—so big?”
I choke on an unexpected laugh and lift my head to look at her face. Her neck is arched, head tilted back, hands still gripping my hair. “What?”
“You’re not—big.”
I push up on my elbows to look down at my very happy cock, who is by no means small.
Then back up at her.
She pushes my head back to her lower abdomen, squirming and offering me more of her bare skin and pussy. “I’m not saying it’s a bad thing. Youdefinitelyknow how to use everything you’ve got. And you’re not like, less than average or anything. But I remembered you…bigger.”
I stare at her.
My dick swells in indignation, but not…massive…indignation.
Fuck.
