“No.” Her hands are coasting across my back urgently, like she’s trying to touch all of me at once. “Don’t stop.”
I lift most of my weight off her so I can pull her sweatshirt—my sweatshirt—higher. “You never gave the last one back.”
“I’m keeping this one too,” she informs me.
“Fine by me.” I reach into the pastry bag by her head.
Wren’s mouth opens in outrage. “Are you seriously …” Her voice trails when I swipe some frosting from the cinnamon bun, then smear it across her stomach.
She moans when I lick it off her, then unbutton her jeans and tug them down, followed by her underwear, flinging both toward Wesley’s side of the room.
I kiss my way back up her thigh, just to tease her a little more. But honestly, I’m more impatient than she is. Not only because it’s been nine months or because this will be our first time as an official couple, but because I’m the only one who has ever seen Wren like this. I did a shitty job conveying to her last night how learning that made me feel.
I was stunned she wanted her first time to be with me. The fact that she wantedallher times to be with me … I can’t describe how knowing that feels, even to myself.
“Sawyer …” She wiggles under me, trying to get me to move faster. Shoving at my shorts with her feet.
Maybe we’re equally eager.
“What?”
“You know what.”
I push the hoodie a little higher. “Do I?”
“Yes. Fuck me.”
I grin, shoving more fabric up her chest. Thenrealize, “Are you wearing nothing under this?”
“I couldn’t find my bra and was trying to be quiet. Can you critique my fashion choices later?”
“No. Because you’ll be naked later and we’ll still be in this bed.”
She smiles. “Promise?”
I flip the hoodie over her head, tugging it out from under her and letting it slip off the side of the mattress.
Finally, we’re both naked, nothing but warm skin pressed against each other. “I’ll promise you anything, Wren Kensington. Anything I have, it’s yours.”
57
“We’re too old for this,” Sawyer tells me.
I scoff. “Speak for yourself.”
“I’m only two months older than you.”
“And aging like wine. Or cheese.”
“It’s a teenager spot.”
“I’ll go alone.”
“The water’s still cold.”
“Again, I’ll go alone.”
We both know he won’t let me. That he’ll insist onsupervising.
