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“Not tonight.” I cup his jaw so he has to see I mean it. “I think deep throating me and coming without being touched are enough of a lesson for today.”
He pouts down at me. “But—”
“No buts,” I laugh. “Move over so I can get us a washcloth and some water.”
I kiss him softly and encourage him to climb off of me. As soon as he’s next to me on the bed, I roll off and walk naked to the bathroom. He watches me come back, and I sit next to him and clean him off before offering him one of the bottles of water I grabbed.
I lay back on his bed and pat my chest. “Come on, rule number seven. It’s time to cuddle.”
FORTY-TWO
QUINN
I wake up warm, which is new, and it takes me a second to figure out why. I’m in my bed. Daniel’s in it with me. We’re both naked, and his arm is slung over my waist.
Normally, I want space in the morning. Especially the first thing, before coffee, before I’ve decided I can handle being touched. But I don’t want space. I want to stay exactly where I’m at and look at his face while he’s still asleep, because the smile lines are there even when he isn’t using them.
Our clothes are strewn all over the floor. My glasses are on the nightstand and the untouched notebook with the unchanged rule sits open. But it doesn’t seem as important this morning.
Morning light cascades over my bed, highlighting his hair with golden highlights that aren’t normally visible. I should wake him.
An idea forms, that makes the butterflies in my stomach start up. I can feel him soft against my hip. Without thinking much further, I slide down his body, and he makes a soft noise when I press a kiss to his stomach. But I don’t stop there.
I wrap my hand around him and feel him start to grow in my fist, my mouth goes dry for reasons that have nothing to do with sleep. I’ve only done this once. Last night. But I liked it.
I take him into my mouth.
He gasps like I yanked him out of a dream. His hand finds my hair, clumsy, then sure.
“Quinn—fuck—baby, you—”
I hum around him so he knows I heard him. His hips twitch like he’s trying to keep himself on the bed. His grip tightens, and he holds my head still and slides into my mouth in slow, shallow thrusts, watching me through barely-open eyes. When he goes too deep, I gag and he eases back, thumb brushing my temple, and then he does it again.
“That’s it. Just like that. God, look at you, sucking on my cock.”
His words do something to me. I brace a hand on his thigh and try to keep my mouth open for him. I’m hard against the sheet, and I don’t care. I try to take him deeper again and gag a second time, my eyes watering.
“I’m close,” he moans. “You can pull off—”
I don’t. I suck harder and look up at him, and that’s what does it. He comes with a broken sound, spilling on my tongue. I swallow what I can, more than yesterday. The rest runs down his length and smears on my lips. I stay until his hand goes loose in my hair, then I lift up, keeping our eyes locked.
He hauls me up the bed and kisses me, tasting himself on my lips and tongue. His hand goes between us and he wraps his fingers around me.
“Your turn. Come here—”
“No.”
He freezes. “No?”
“Not no forever.” I wipe my mouth and grab my glasses. The room comes back into focus and so does he. “We have to figure out the trip. If you put your mouth on me, I’ll forget what to pack and then we’ll be at your house, and I’ll be annoyed about it the whole time.”
He stares at me. Then he laughs, dropping his head back onto my pillow. “You woke me up with your mouth, and now you want to plan our trip?”
“Yes.” I sit up. The sheet pools in my lap. I’m still hard, and I’m ignoring it on purpose. “Where the bus is leaving from? What time? What your mom needs to know? If I have to wear anything nice? How long are we staying?”
“Take a deep breath, brainy bear.”
The nickname catches me off guard. I stare at him. I like it as much, if not more than the first time he used it. Maybe more.
