She squirms as she lets herself relax back onto the bed, her legs still around my hips. “I’ve been…uninterested.”
I didn’t know she could have any more of my attention, but here we are. “Uninterested?”
“I had a bad breakup and I’ve been really busy and I’m not sleeping well, and—”
I rotate my hips to rub my hard-on against her pelvis—and yeah, I knowexactlywhat I’m hitting under that dress—and her eyes cross and drift closed.
“More, please,” she whispers.
“Why aren’t you sleeping?” I murmur against her neck while I continue the slow torment over her black dress.
“Too much thinking.”
“About what?”
“Everything.”
Fuck.
I sometimes lose sleep thinking about the team, but that’s small potatoes compared to the empire Waverly’s running.
I brush a kiss to her jaw. “This is a no-thinking zone. Feeling only.”
“But—oh, no, don’t stop.”
“No-thinking zone,” I repeat, hovering above her while she tries to tilt her hips back up to cradle my cock.
She pouts. “Fine. No thinking.”
“Very good.”
“Bossy.”
I grin as I go back to teasing her neck with my lips. “I take orders too.”
“Strip me naked and make me feel good.”
“Metaphorically or literally?”
“Cooper.”
God, her skin tastes amazing. It’s like she’s made of cotton candy and steak, which are basically my two favorite things in the world, put together in a way that works because she’s Waverly and everything works on her.
“I’m a full-service friend,” I tell her delicious skin. “Whatever you want. And you’re going to have to be very specific.”
I rub my cock between her thighs again.
“Unzip my dress.” Her order is breathy, her eyes drifting shut once more while her hands explore my neck and shoulders and chest.
“With my hands? My mind? My teeth?”
Her soft laugh fills my bedroom. “Yes.”
“High standards.”
“Yes.”
I like that about her.You want me, you earn me. Self-worth is fucking sexy.
