“I won’t look,” I mutter, staring at her.
“Not falling for that.” She half laughs, grabbing her pyjamas from the chest of drawers then disappearing back into the bathroom.
“Spoil sport,” I say to the empty room.
“Heard that,” she calls through the half-closed door.
“You were meant to.” I scoff.
I lean to the left slightly, peeking through the gap. She has her back to the door. The sight of her cotton hot pant style shorts has my cock throbbing. Her black curly hair teases the middle of her back as she stretches her arms up and pulls the matching cropped vest over her head, covering her tanned skin.
She’s going to kill me. I know it.
Sitting up, I try and think of anything to remove the image of her from my mind. Those long legs, full ass, and not to forget the creases under her cheeks that were begging to be trailed by my tongue.
Palming myself through my thick sweats, I willed for this erection to fuck off. The sound of her footsteps closes in; I reachfor a pillow and place it over my dick. She pulls the door fully open, her hair pulled into a high, messy bun.
Her pyjama set is cream with blueberries scattered over. A small bow sits between her tits, and I can see her nipples through the stretched cotton.
“Sorry, my others are dirty… I packed for sleeping alone.”
“It’s no problem.” My voice is tight. All I can think about is sinking between her legs and licking her front to back, making her quiver beneath my tongue.
“What’s in the bags?” She points and I shuffle slightly, moving further on the bed trying not to expose my raging hard on.
“Patience.” I look at her through my lashes. “Another thing your characters don’t have.”
She pouts. “Want to rip it apart anymore?”
I want to rip your clothes off.
“I’m sorry.” I sigh. “The story is amazing, the plot, the world building.”
She blinks at me.
“Anaïs, Nora, and Rue read. You pick up on the lingo.” I smirk. “It’s just…” I lick my lips. “It’s just the sex.”
She flops on the bed and lets out a heavy sigh.
“We’ll fix it.”
“Will we?” She seems cautious.
“Yes.”
“What’s my first lesson?” She flicks her gaze to me. “Professor.”
“Stop that.” I laugh, but also think,please don’t.
I need her. If just once.
Fuck.
She reaches across for her notepad and pen, crossing her legs underneath herself as she waits.
“The build up,” I squeeze out, my cock still throbbing beneath the pillow.
“You need to talk me through it. My ex wasn’t a build-up kind of guy,” she admits, tapping the lid of her pen onto the paper.
