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“Maybe, but I have control in a car,” he argues.

“Of your car, maybe, but you don’t control other drivers,” I say. “You don’t know that the next person you pass isn’t going to swerve into you and kill you.”

“No, I don’t.” He chuckles. “The point you’re missing is that doesn’t matter if it’s rational or not …” He pauses. “I just I can’t do it.”

“When was the last time you flew?”

He pauses. “Never.”

“Never?” I repeat, shocked.

“Yeah.” He chuckles. “I guess you could call me a virgin.”

“You’re an asshole,” I mutter.

He starts laughing so hard he rolls over, so he can bury his face into his pillow. I shake my head, wishing I wasn’t finding it as funny as I am.

“Come on, Katie. I can tell you’re trying not to laugh,” he teases. “You felt sorry for me, didn’t you?”

“Don’t talk to me. I’m asleep,” I snap.

I roll over, trying to drown out the sound of his laughter, wishing he would just stop. I could kiss him. That would shut him up pretty fast. I smile.

Too bad I’ll never have the courage to do something like that.It’s five in the morning and I’m still awake. I’m bordering on delirium, because I’m so tired, but I just can’t get to sleep. I’ve tried listening to music, clearing my mind, counting backward … nothing is working.

There’s still one thing I haven’t tried …

I hold my breath, listening to the sound of his breathing as I creep my hand under the blankets and down over my stomach. I freeze when he stirs, but he doesn’t wake up. My heart pounds as I focus on the sound of his breathing and nothing else.

My body tenses as a part my legs, just enough to slide a finger along my entrance. I hold my breath, the air catching my throat, then I quickly exhale as I slide a finger inside myself. I close my eyes and concentrate as I massage my clit, trying so hard not to make a sound.

What would it feel like to kiss him?

I sigh, imagining his lips brushing over mine, while I rake my hands over that thick, uneven stubble. I swallow, my pussy aching as I tease myself, imagining my fingers sliding over his muscular chest.

I work myself faster and harder as my body reacts. The soft lapping of my finger sounds a thousand times louder than it really is. I gasp as my finger slides deeper inside me. I want to scream, but I can’t, so I force the sound back down my throat and ride the last of my climax out in total silence, all while still imagining his hands on me. It’s torture and bliss at the same time.

Holy fuck.

I stare at the ceiling, unable to do anything other than lie there, listening to my heart pounding in my chest. I kick off the blankets, my skin all hot and sweaty. Then I smile and swallow a giggle. That was incredible. I’ve never experienced a rush quite like that before.

Snuggling into my pillow, I sigh. I’m so close to asleep …

And then I hear that familiar chuckle.

Fuck.

I hold my breath, not trusting myself to do anything other than lie there and panic. I slowly relax when he doesn’t react. He’s asleep. It’s fine. I imagined it. I breathe out and then close my eyes. Just as I finally feel like I’m going to fall asleep, his sleepy voice cuts through the silence. I lie there, holding my breath, my eyes wide open.

“Feels good to be naughty, doesn’t it, Katie?”

His sleepy voice cuts through the silence. I don’t answer, because I can’t.

“Next time you do that? I’ll be participating.”Chapter TenAdam“Adam, I—Oh God.”

I open my eyes and squint at Darcy and Katie, who both face the other way, their hands covering their eyes as they laugh hysterically. I glance down at my erection and chuckle. I forgot I wasn’t wearing pants.

“You’re allowed to look, but just remember,” I smirk, my immediate reaction to make a joke out of the situation, “You poke it, you play with it.”

Darcy turns around. She frowns.

“Doesn’t look like there’s all that much to play with.”

“Fuck.” I make a face. “That was harsh.”

I glance down and shrug. It might not be Dwayne’s twelve inch lightsaber, but it’s still pretty damn impressive. I get up, not bothering to dress, and just saunter over to the bathroom, closing the door behind me.

“How’s Lily?” I call out.

“Still in bed. She’s been throwing up most of the morning into a trash can by the bed. She’s feeling pretty sorry for herself.”

I almost feel sorry for her, because there’s nothing worse than a bad hangover.

I have a shower, then get dressed and pack our things in the car. It’s just after eight, and I’m keen to get on the road as quickly as possible.

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