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West flops down on the bed again, raking his hand through his hair. It’s long enough now that it sticks up when he pushes his fingers through it, which means it’s pretty much always sticking up. “You and me both.”
“How many hours until bedtime?”
“Four.”
I look at the clock. “Five, I bet. She hasn’t been to sleep before ten all week.”
He looks at the door.
He looks at my shirt.
Specifically, he looks at my nipples, then rubs his thumb back and forth over one. Back and forth, until I feel as though I’m turning to lava between my thighs.
“You’re killing me,” I whisper.
“No,” he says. “I’m killing me.”
Then I’m on my back again, and he’s over me. “Keep quiet, and I’ll give you that first orgasm right now.”
I’m about to tell him it’s not happening—not with his sister hovering out there—when he pulls my knee up and rocks into me, hard.
Oh. God. It’s so happening.
“If you’re not out in five minutes, I’m going to eat at Rikki and Laurie’s,” Frankie says through the door. “I’ll tell them you starved me. I’ll say you’re locked in the bedroom making dirty noises, and—”
West picks up a book off the nightstand and throws it at the door.
“Hey!” Frankie shouts.
“We’ll be out when we’re done with the laundry,” he says.
“Fine.”
I hear her footsteps retreating down the hall.
“We really should go,” I say, but it’s completely halfhearted. I can’t make myself mean it, because his eyes are blue in this light, dark and intent, and his hand is moving under my shirt.
“In a minute.”
“One minute?”
“Maybe two.”
“You can’t make me come in two minutes.”
“Watch me.”
His thumb finds my nipple again. My eyelids droop. I can’t keep them open—not when he’s touching me like this. Kissing me this way. Not when he’s unsnapping my jeans, lowering the zipper, finding me hot and wet and making me hotter and wetter.
He whispers dirty promises in my ear, licks and sucks me. He finds all my weak spots and exploits them.
“Ninety seconds,” he says after I come. There’s laughter in his voice. “Easy.”
“Don’t call me easy,” I rasp.
I sound so weak and soft, exhausted as though I’ve run a marathon when all I’ve actually done is breathe hard, tighten up against West’s fingers, and bite down on the noise while he makes my body sing.
West chuckles, clasping my wrists in his hands and collapsing on top of me.
