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Maybe that was why I was idly brushing the back of my hand over my nipple when Cain walked back into the room. He growled.
“Sophie. That is not fucking fair.” He had two bottles of water.
I was surprised. I had thought he meant he was getting himself a beer. Maybe he liked being sober with me. Not that it mattered. I wasn’t a solution to Cain’s problems, any more than he was to mine. Though mine suddenly seemed insignificant next to his. I knew how to navigate my life with my quirks and tics. I hadn’t had someone betray me the way he had.
His own brother.
Geez, that was crap.
“I realized something,” I told him, trailing my fingers down my stomach and over the small patch of curls I had tamed but hadn’t bothered to eradicate. I wasn’t sure why I was shifting my hand up and down other than my skin felt so alive and it just felt good. It was instinctive, not a calculated maneuver.
He handed me the bottle of water, the cap twisted loose for me. “What’s that, you little tease?”
I took a sip and set the water on the nightstand. “After tonight I’m going to be sexless again, at least for a while, so I was stupid to turn your earlier offer down.”
“Why sexless after tonight? You leaving town tomorrow? I thought your sister was getting married here.” Leaning over the bed, his hand covered mine and he traced the path with me, his blue eyes narrowed with desire.
“She is.” His touch was very distracting. Intimate. Sensual. He was steering my caresses now, taking over, and guiding me into the depths of my inner thighs. “But Saturday my mom and dad arrive and then I won’t have any free time.”
My breath hitched when he used his index finger to push mine inside of me. Right into that moist heat.
“That means I have you tomorrow still though. And maybe even Friday.” He stroked our fingers together with a slow, steady rhythm.
I wanted to sit up, feeling exposed, overwhelmed. But I didn’t. Because it also felt damn good. Freeing. Intoxicating. “Is that an invitation?” I asked. It probably sounded flirty, but I really was asking a genuine question.
“Yes. Only I want to fuck you tomorrow in your pretty princess room in your big house.”
“I don’t have a princess room. I have a very generic guest bedroom.” I was breathy and distracted because the obvious reality was that with both of our fingers stroking inside me, it was double capacity. Which felt fantastic. “I’m twenty-four years old, not twelve.”
“I’m very aware of how old you are.”
I tried not to squirm under both his stare and his touch. “How old are you?” I realized I had never actually asked him that. He seemed older than I was. But younger than thirty.
“Twenty-six.”
My guess had been accurate, then. “How long have you been a lobster fisherman?”
He removed his finger and mine and teased them both over my clit. “You’ve picked the worst fucking time to ask polite ‘getting to know you’ questions, Sophie Bigelow. You can’t possibly give a shit right now about my career path. I know right now I don’t care about yours.”
I wasn’t sure that at precisely that moment I needed extensive details on his career. That was true. But I was genuinely curious. I had to concede though because when he raised his hand with mine to his lips and sucked on our dual fingers I was shocked into complete silence.
He was tasting me.
Clearly, he had already, on several occasions, but…this was different. This was so intentional. So dirty. “Why are you doing that?” I asked.
He sucked a little harder, then spoke around our fingers. “Because you taste good.”
That wasn’t exactly a satisfactory answer, in my opinion. I didn’t quite see the logic in it. But maybe there was no logic in sex because even though it was based on chemistry and pheromones and the science of attraction, it was a touch and tease that had no base in the urge to procreate. It was…emotion. Right along with the physical.
It was a startling feeling to think I felt this connection with Cain, the lobster fisherman. The stranger. The hookup. How could I be comfortable doing this, right here, right now? But I was. He was teaching me. And I was learning.
So when he brought our fingers back to tease at me again, I shuttered my thoughts and just enjoyed the sensation of complete and utter sensual abandonment.
As he flicked his finger and mine up and down, up and down, it reminded me of my need to flip light switches. Will it work? Yes. Are you sure? Yes. Until I came, bursting forth like an electrical surge.
“See?” Cain said, moving in on top of me. “Perfect.”
He thrust inside.
