Page 67 of A Song for You

“What I like.” She tests the words out on her tongue. “And why do you care what I like?”

“I should know the kinds of things my girlfriend likes so I can be sure to please her,” I say, holding her steady, my eyes locked with hers, hoping she sees how serious I am.

“Girlfriend?” she squeaks.

I nod. “I did just have breakfast with the family, didn’t I?”

With a chuckle, she says, “You had brunch with my brothers as Jay, my brother’s best friend. Not as Jay my boyfriend.”

“Semantics,” I scoff. “We’ve gone through the family thing, so now it’s all about things you like. I think they approve of me, don’t you?”

She rolls her eyes. “You haven’t ‘gone through the family thing’ until you’ve met my grandparents.”

“I got it in the bag, Kitten.” I shrug and plant a kiss on her forehead. “Grandparents love me.”

With a swat to my chest, she huffs a laugh. “No, they don’t. And mine definitely won’t.”

I smirk, unfazed. “Yeah. grandparents really don’t love me.”

With that, I wrap my arm around her shoulder and walk into the library. “But I don’t care, beautiful. Because with or without their approval, you’re mine.”

She pauses and pops up onto her toes, pressing a kiss to my cheek. “Fine, I’ll be your girlfriend.”

My heart squeezes at her admission, but outwardly, I remain aloof. “It’s cute that you thought that was a question.”

Hidden in a corner between shelves of the second floor of the Boston Public Library, Cat is settled in my lap. With a book in her hand and my arms wrapped around her, we take turns reading lines from a romance novel of her choosing. This is the fourth book she’s picked up. There was a shirtless man with long hair on the cover and a woman looking at him longingly. That was the only clue we needed when gauging the story’s steam level.

She giggles as I deepen my voice for my line. “I want you to swallow every drop. Be the dirty whore I know you are and suck me off.”

With every word I speak, I draw circles against her smooth thigh, noting the way her knees shift open each time I stroke upward.

“Does my dirty girl want to play?” I whisper, watching goosebumps erupt across her skin.

When I lick them away, she moans.

Cat tosses the book to the side, surprising me, and flips around so she’s hovering above me, her knees on the ground, her hands on either side of my hips, and her eyes blazing with lust. With the way her skater skirt fans out and how her tight T-shirt hugs every curve, she looks like a fucking prep-school girl and every one of my teenage dreams. “I’m ready for my next lesson, professor.”

My mind goes blank at the display, but my cock practically rips through the seam of my pants at her words.

“What are you doing, Kitten?” I ask, fisting my hands to stave off the need to touch her.

The smell of old books mixes with her vanilla perfume as she presses closer to me. “Say it again.”

“Say what again?” I ask, truly confused.

“Tell me to suck your cock,” she says as she sits up on her knees and reaches for my belt.

I grip her wrists to stop her, and she practically hisses at me like a fucking cat. Releasing her, I fall back against the shelf and prop myself up on my elbows, letting her take control.

“Say it,” she demands.

I shake my head, speechless and lost at the sight of her on her knees before me in the library aisle. When my cock springs free of my boxers, looking angry and ready, she licks her lips like it’s the greatest thing she’s ever seen.

“You’re going to need to talk me through this,” she says, bringing her attention up to my face, her brow furrowed seriously, as if she’s studying to take a test.

My blood has all traveled to one area, as is obvious from the swollen head already leaking for her attention, so my thoughts are jumbled.

“Kitten, be more direct. What do you need?” I grit out, lifting slightly while she slides my pants all the way down. When she’s forced them past my knees, I drop back down, my bare ass touching the rough carpet.