“It’d be a shame not to find out whether you like the ending of your book.” I shrug, feigning nonchalance. “And you did feedme so well yesterday,” I continue, running my hands through his hair as he leans into my touch. “Plus, I don’t want to find someone else to give me orgasms tonight, you know? Seems like a lot of work when you get the job done so well.” At that, his eyes darken, and he rolls us both until he’s on top of me, nudging my thighs apart with his knees.
“No one but me will be giving you orgasms, Elizabeth.” He takes my hands, trapping them over my head and holding them with one of his own. “Do you hear me?” It’s the first time I’ve heard him so serious, so assertive, and demanding. My pussy clenches as a wave of arousal washes over me.
“I hear you,” I say clearly, knowing he wants my words. Needs them.
His lips lower to my breast at the same time his hand brushes against the inside of my thigh, moving higher as he sucks harder.
“No one but me making you this wet and needy.” His talented fingers get to work as his mouth moves to my other nipple. “No one but me tasting you and fucking you, understand?”
I wait a few seconds, but when he bites on the underside of my breast, I yelp. “Mmhmm. Yeah.”
“Give me your words.” His voice is pure gravel, rough and harsh, and I love it.
“I understand. No one but you, Peter,” I whine when he removes his fingers to suck on them, but he doesn’t make me wait long. In the next second, his lips are around my clit, and my hips are bucking off the bed. My hands are now free to hold on to his hair, and when I tug, he moans into my sensitive skin like he can’t get enough, like I’m the best thing he’s ever tasted.
With his fingers curled just right, and his tongue working my clit better than any apparatus I have at home, I come with a hoarse scream. When I come down from my high, I giggle, thinking about how this isn’t exactly the same day as yesterday. It might actually be better.
CHAPTER 8
IT’S TIME FOR ME TO HEAD DOWN HOME.
DARCY
It was even better. Today was somehowimpossiblybetter than yesterday. After giving my dream woman seven orgasms since we woke up this morning, I should be spent. Should be snoozing the night away like she is, a small, content smile on her lips as she shifts, always keeping at least one hand on me.
But I can’t.
I can’t sleep.
I can’t stop looking at the time.
And it wasn’t even just the sex.
It’sher.
The way she confessed how she’s deathly afraid of squirrels and the weird noises they make. How her brows wrinkled when she saw my cowboy hat tattoo with the words “to infinity” below it, and all I wanted was to tell her how my best friend has the second half. It’s the way she talked about her love of the East Coast, how the salt air sometimes feels like it can fix anything, and how lucky she feels that she can hear the ocean waves crashing on the shore anytime she wants.
She told me—I think by accident, after admitting she forgot her phone on the counter at a coffee shop—she has ADHD, and she’s always felt like she’s not in control of her brain. She apologized, resignation all over her face when she offered to go back and get it alone. “I’m such an idiot. And this is exactly why I’m too much. I always do shit like this. It’s so annoying.” Those words, said with a wobbly chin and watery eyes, nearly broke me in half, but they also allowed me to see a vulnerable side of Beth. I could tell she didn’t believe me when I told her she’s not too much, that I didn’t mind walking back with her. But I was determined to show her.
She was quiet, wringing her hands as I held the coffee shop door open for her to walk through, her shoulders curling in more with every step she took. As we approached the barista, I smiled. “We’re back. I accidentally left my girlfriend’s phone on the counter. It’s got a yellow case with white daisies on. There’s a scratch on the top right corner of the screen.” Beth watched quietly as the barista handed me her phone, and as I said thanks and left another five-dollar bill in the tip jar.
When I passed her the phone on the sidewalk, she tucked it into her back pocket, whispering a thanks. I wrapped an arm around her, pulled her into me, and kissed her hair, breathing her in and wishing I could erase every moment when she felt too much because of something she has no control over.
It was all of that, these little moments that made these last three nights some of the best I’ve ever had.
But it was also me. How easily I laughed with her. How not once did I feel the urge to read my emails or check in with anyone at the office. How I wanted to tell her everything about myself, including the fucked-up parts. The fact I know, deep in my bones, my parents would love her.
Who am I kidding? All of that was her, too. She’s the reason for all of it.
In five hours, I’m going to gather my things and go back to my room, and she’ll be checking out so she can get back to her life. Later today, I’ll pick up my rental car so I can head to Balsam Bay on Monday morning to surprise my best friend, and she’ll be wherever she lives.
A familiar feeling starts to build, spreading like a wildfire from my feet all the way up to my ears. My breaths come in fast. Too fast.
My chest constricts. The pounding of my own heartbeat is all I can hear.
Closing my eyes and counting through my inhales and exhales isn’t working.
No. No, no, no, no, no.
