I shifted my gaze back to his. I could see he meant it. And even more disarming, I couldn’t find any hint that he was holding back. There were no emotions hidden behind his eyes. No pain that I could detect. In fact, what I saw was the same restraint he’d shown with his sister. He’d held back to give her the space she needed. And he was doing the same for me.
Damn. He was giving me the choice…and the decision. Whatever I wanted, he would work hard to accommodate.
“What do you want?” I asked.
“To lick you until you scream.”
I blinked. That was not at all what I thought he’d say, and it temporarily robbed me of words. My body, however, had no trouble keeping up. My belly clenched, and my thighs tightened in hunger.
“Um.” What could I say? “Okay.”
He grinned as if I’d just given him a gift, and maybe I had. Sure, I was about to get another mind-blowing orgasm, but he got to avoid being truly intimate with me. We both got what we wanted. I wouldn’t speak about being so lonely that I built elaborate fantasies around a coworker, and he wouldn’t tell me about whatever made him so paranoid about publicity.
Win-win, right?
Wrong. I was going to figure out his secret, but right now, he was kissing my breast, and I lost all coherent thought. Coiling his tongue around my nipple, he sucked it in while pleasure spiraled through my body. He was thorough and leisurely, and everything else disappeared beneath his steady intensity.
Chapter Nine
Connor
You can’t have her. Stay focused on baseball.
I’d just had the best orgasm of my life, and already the negative self-talk had begun.
You can’t have her. You can’t have her…
Sports psychiatrists spent a lot of time addressing self-defeating habits. At least once a season, someone forced me to sit and listen to psychobabble around mental toughness. It all boiled down to mind over matter, even if your mind whispered bullshit in your ear. Especially if it did.
So I’ve rooted out all that crap when it comes to baseball, but I was up to my ears in it in my dating life.
You can’t have her.
I knew it was bullshit. I was a good guy. I deserved a special woman who loved me. But that didn’t stop the endless stream of negativity in my brain that told me I wasn’t good enough for her. That I’d be better off if I didn’t want her in the first place.
But damned if Gia wasn’t the most special, the most amazing woman ever.
I loved that she didn’t hide, but attacked the world with gusto. Like every time I nipped, or pretended I was going to abandon those glorious breasts of hers, she gripped my head and drew me back. She loved what I was doing almost as much as I loved doing it to her.
“Let me touch you,” she’d begged as she reached for my dick. I angled away. This was all about her. About enjoying a special, wonderful woman for the one night I had her. But she was determined—my Gia—and she wriggled against me in a way that made my dick pulse hot and hard.
She wasn’t ashamed to spread her legs beneath me, either. There was no girly shyness, which I appreciated. I intended to taste her in all the ways I’d been dreaming about since she bounced into the locker room and introduced herself as our social media mistress. I wasn’t the only one who’d envisioned her in black leather that day. But I was the only one who was going to make her scream.
In a minute.
After I spread her out like a banquet before me, then went in for a taste.
It was like chasing a baseball in the best possible way. Shemoved. That’s what was so fun. But it was nothing compared to what happened when she came.
She always started with a whimper, as if she was surrendering to the tide when it was just starting. And then her butt cheeks would pulse in my hands. I was holding her ass as a way to control her movements. It didn’t help much, but it filled my palms with sweet Gia, so I didn’t mind. I had a choice, then, whether to go for the gusto right away or drag it out. I chose both, just because I could.
Eventually, though, I would head for her clit. By that time, her hands were on my head, demanding I do what she wanted. She loved it when I licked, but when I sucked—wow—she was like lightning in my hands. She stretched tighter and tighter, her sounds building in pitch until I knew she was on the verge. And then, after one hard pull on her clit, her whole body seemed to fly apart—legs wide, chest lifted, arms splayed.
Glorious.
And God, I wanted to spend the night watching it, over and over. But a man can deny himself only so many times. Especially when she lay there gasping, but still managing to give orders.
“Condom now.”
