“Puss—”
“Nope.” He puts up his hands like he’s trying to ward me off.
“Okay, but you call my vaginalady petalsor something equally ludicrous, it will be the last time you get in my pants. Are we clear?”
“Completely.”
“Now for the rules,” I say, sitting on the edge of the mattress and pushing myself back until I’m laid out in just my panties and bra. “You do not have decision-making privileges when it comes to making me come. Is that clear?”
“Umm…”
“Harder doesnotmean faster. Those are two separate commands.”
“Okay.”
“Also, and wait,”—I snap my fingers, and he startles, looking guilty as his gaze trails up my body to my face—“are you a tit guy?”
“I think I’m just ayouguy.”
My heart stutters in my chest because that was remarkably sweet and I have no idea what to do with it. So I do nothing.
“You haven’tearnedthe right to dictate how and when I orgasm. That will come later.”
“No pun intended.”
I ignore him even though I want to laugh. “The biggest mistake men make is that as soon as they hear a woman is excited, they immediately start changing their rhythm—basically everything they’re doing with their hands and their mouth. It’s theworst.”
“That does sound terrible.”
“And you’d have to start over.”
His brows furrow. “That doesn’t sound so bad.”
“Look at me, Royce.” Sitting up, I wait for him to join me and when he does, awareness has replaced the lust in his eyes. “Sometimes it’s hard for a woman to get there. Sometimes shewants it so bad and it takes a lot of focus on her part even though he’s doing all the things he knows will make her get there.”
“I’m listening.”
It’s my turn to swallow hard. “It’s frustrating if it’s not a game y’all have agreed on playing. Teasing can be fun and so can prolonging the anticipation, but if that’s not what you’re doing, it can make her feel like something’s wrong with her.”
“But there’s not.”
“And a good guy will know that.”
I let the words hang in the air between us as he laces our fingers together, his eyes on our hands instead of on me.
“I’m probably gonna screw that up.”
“I know,” I say on a chuckle, “and that’s okay becausethis,”—I shake our joined hands—“is what we’re doing. We’re making you a stud in the sack—completely irresistible to the next woman you meet.”
“Could we not put that image in my head? Seriously, do you know how many times I run into Mrs. Crane when she’s out walking that little dog that’s older than she is?”
I laugh, falling back on the bed as I pull him down on top of me.
“Fair enough, but it’s still a worthy cause.”
“Selfless,” he deadpans.
I drag his palm up my stomach until he’s cupping my breast, his tongue peeking out to wet his lips making me desperate for any kind of friction. “You have no idea.”
