Her heels to his back, she gave a little nudge of encouragement to carry on like he was before. That curlicue thing was something he should write down for all of posterity.
He didn’t take her hint.
“Why not?” he asked again.
“What?” The word was breathy coming from her lips.
“You said I can’t go down on you every time I want you to be quiet. Then I asked, why not?”
He leaned back on his calves, his hardness right there and still standing right at attention.
Actually, okay, she could be fine with that.
“I’m good with going down on me to make me quiet,” she said, the words gruff and filled with desire. “If you just do that tongue turney thing again.”
He still sat back on his heels, surveying her and grinning like he’d won the lottery.
Fine. You know what? She had two hands and a very intimate knowledge of exactly where she needed to touch to set herself off. She could just do it herself.
But before she could do so much as twitch a finger, he got back to it. The curlicue tongue thing was just the beginning.
“I just want to be totally clear on one thing,” she said as she groaned and moaned and made a squealing sound all at the same time.
“What’s that?” He hardly lifted his mouth from her as he spoke.
“You can’t always manipulate me to get what you want.” She said this as he used his fingers to get in on the action.
“You want me to stop again?” he asked, blowing a warm wind over the intimate spaces between her legs.
Then he did another, different, curlicue thing, the other direction and…yeah, she was okay with manipulation.
“Never mind,” she said on a gasp, her heels digging into his shoulders. “Manipulation is fine.”
When it came packaged like this, she’d learn to be a-okay with it. Because it turned out, he had a pretty good idea of exactly what to do to set her off.
Twice, actually.
Then she returned the favor. Just the once, for obvious reasons.
Chapter Twenty-Four
“My Canadian mother’s favourite is, ‘if you can’t say anything nice, don’t say anything at all.’ My succinct variation on this is ‘be nice, or leave.’” —Laura, England, United Kingdom
Molly
“You spent the entire night with Gavin and you want to talk about what you ate for breakfast after?” Kaiya asked.
Well, yes, because if she actually started digging into all the other stuff, she’d have to actually think about it. Thinking about it meant processing it.
In her experience, processing it meant lots of regrets were soon to follow.
Couldn’t she just enjoy this for as long as it lasted? Not fuss about an expiration date and the inevitable blow of the ending?
This wasn’t going to last—she knew that. But then she’d sort of forgotten it. Forgot she was more than halfway through her free trial and really freaking enjoying it. She’d need to decide soon, and what the heck was she supposed to decide?
She’d had an entire day to think about everything. An entire Saturday to worry herself into a tangle. Now it was Sunday, and the twists were only tighter.
“Uh-oh,” Rachel said, rearranging the blanket as she sat back down.
