“I . . . uh . . .” His brows are drawn together in thought. “What’s your favorite plot twist?”
“In books?” I warm to the topic.
“Sure. Let’s start with books.” His dimple is winking at me, and I sense he means something else.
“No, what do you mean? Like movies, shows?” My brain floods with all my favorites.
“I mean like our discussion on the plane.”
“Ohhh.” My cheeks feel hot. I face forward in my seat. The leg I had curled under me straightens and presses into my other leg. My palm slides up and down my thigh as I resist burying it in my lap to ease the throb. I know he’s switching topics to avoid getting too serious,and I get it. Despite my body’s reaction, I can’t ignore the train of my thoughts. “Can I ask you something first?”
“Always.”
“Do you think everyone has sex like us? Like as much as we do?” As soon as the question leaves my mouth, he barks a sharp laugh.
“God, I hope so.” His dimple deepens with his smile. I pinch his thigh and wait. He sobers immediately. “I don’t know, love, but I really do hope so.”
“I mean, I’m pretty new at this and I just . . . well, I kinda want it . . . you . . . all the time.” I let my free hand press into my lap now—my body unconsciously responding to the sex talk and the new term of endearment. It crosses my mind to wonder if it’s weird to talk about it. But Julian doesn’t make it awkward. Or . . . more awkward. He’s the opposite. Deliberately encouraging, whether it’s in conversation or physically.
“Ever . . .” He drags out my name like he’s about to say something significant, and I hold my breath. “This is new for me too.” He reaches for the hand on his thigh and pulls it to his lips again, takes a quick glance at me and continues. “I’ve never let anyone in before. Only you. Always you. And we don’t have to make this conversation about sex. We can talk about anything you want. I mean, I like our talks whatever the topic. Pick one.”
His words have me blowing a long sigh out through puffed cheeks and pressure building behind my eyes. I decide to use his trick to distract myself from the emotions hovering on the brink. “So . . . plot twists . . .”
I’m rewarded with his deep, rumbling sexy little laugh. “I’m all ears. And your timing is perfect. We’re home.”
I look out the windshield as we cruise into the driveway. My heart thuds in anticipation.
We drop our bags inside the door, and I kick off my shoes next to them.
Julian is right behind me and does the same. With bare feet, he pads the two steps to me and snakes his arms around my waist, drawing me back to him. Tilting my neck to unconsciously invite his kiss, he obliges me by nuzzling the sensitive spot behind my ear with his nose. He places small kisses there before he whispers, “Tell me, Ever, what would be your favorite plot twist right now?”
My heart pulses in my neck. His lips must feel it.
“I . . .” His lips steal my words. I try again as my hand travels up his neck, along his jaw, up to the longer hair on top of his head. Running my fingers through it, I grab a handful and tug his head away from my neck. So I can think straight. I still feel his breath where his lips used to be, but I try again. “I . . . think . . . the best . . . plot twist is . . .”
“M-hm.” His breath flutters across my skin. He urges me, “Is . . .?”
“The one you don’t see coming.” I release his hair, the pull on him, so that his lips fall back onto my neck.
He kisses the pulse there once, twice. Then, without warning, sweeps me off my feet, flips me over his shoulder and smacks me hard on my leggings-clad ass. The sting sends a shock straight to my center, followed by a flood of moisture. He doesn’t speak but carries me toward the stairs, the bedroom.
My mind screamsplot twist.
He tosses me onto the bed and yanks the waistbands of my leggings and thong down my legs in one fluid movement. He leaves my shirt on but whips his over his head before he leans his hands on the bedat my feet and begins inching his way up my body. His blue eyes are dark, almost black, and never leave mine as he closes in on the vee of my thighs. His warm breath hits the bundle of nerves a second before his lips. A soft kiss, then another. Then he stops.
I open my eyes that closed at first contact and look down.
He’s watching me, waiting for me to look at him. He pushes his hands under my thighs and scoots me farther onto the bed so my upper body is propped against the pillows. Stretching out between my legs, he purses his lips and blows softly on my sensitive bud, still watching me with dark hungry eyes. My knees are bent on either side of him and press in with the intensity. He smiles and shakes his head slowly, moving his hands to my inner thighs and pressing them down, spreading them.
Moisture slips down into the crevice below my opening. I clench the comforter in my fists and curl my toes. “Fuck, Julie. Don’t tease me.” I squeeze my eyes shut, arching my back, begging him with my body to give me what it wants. Each expanse of breath creates friction between my T-shirt and nipples. They strain against the fabric, drawing Julian’s attention.
“Want me to stop?” He places a soft kiss to my center after he asks.
“Uh-uh. You know I don’t.”
“Lose the shirt.” I raise my eyebrows in question, and he nods slowly likeyou heard me.
I reach for his head, to pull him tighter to me, to make him give me what I want. Like a lightning strike, his hands snake under my bent knees and clamp onto my wrists, pinning them to the mattress. This holds my thighs up and apart while keeping me from touching him. Ican’t use anything except my words, so I do.
