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Wick shook his head and blew out a breath as he watched me. “God, you look good doing that.” He began to enter me slowly, watching us unite, only to stop abruptly. “Ah, shit.” He lifted his face, grimacing. “We can’t do this here.”
“What?” I cried in despair, only half of him impaling me, which made my body crave more, dammit. “Why not?”
Wick glanced around the room as if looking for someone else before he explained, “The first night my roommate moved in, she made me promise not to have sex in the front room while she was home.”
My mouth fell open. Realizing he was freaking joking, I shrieked, “Wick!” and slugged him in the chest. “Oh my God. I thought you were being serious.”
Grinning he pushed deeper, deeper, and then deeper still until he was all the way in. Then he winked. “I am being serious. You really did make me promise that.”
“God. Okay. Oh hell, that feels good. I’m officially—shit, don’t stop—relieving you of—mmm—that promise.” Wrapping my legs around his waist, I dug my heels into his ass. “Now fuck me like you mean it.”
“Yes, ma’am.”
And he did.
I was sore for the rest of the day. It was the most delicious ache in the world. If I moved just right, I almost swore I could still feel Wick in there, lodged deep and stroking me.
Damn, I think he’d turned me into a nympho.
More than once in my morning classes, I had to cross my legs tight because I began to think about what we’d done together, and my body would ignite, ready for more.
So I texted him on my lunch break, kind of hoping maybe we’d have the same hour free so we could meet up somewhere on campus.
For a quickie.
HAVEN: What the hell did you do to me? I can’t stop thinking about this morning. And last night. And then this morning again. I need more. When’s the next time I can have you?
Seeing the little dots appear as he immediately began to reply, I hopped in anticipation until his response appeared.
WICK: And… I just got wood in my internal auditing class.
HAVEN: Whoops. Sorry. I was actually hoping we might have the same lunch hour free, so we could meet somewhere if you wanted to, and you know, not-talk-but-do-other-things. But I guess not.
WICK: Jesus, now you’re just torturing me. I would have loved that. Can you rain ch
eck until about 6:30 tonight when I get home from practice?
Six thirty? He was killing me here. He’d showed me how awesome sex could be and now he was holding out? That just wasn’t going to fly with me.
So I answered with blunt honesty.
HAVEN: No deal. You can’t rock my world like you did and then deny me your hot body anytime I want it thereafter. You created this monster, bud. Now you have to feed it.
WICK: Trust me, I like this monster. I WANT to feed it. How about I make it up to you when I get home…at 6:30. An orgasm every hour on the hour until you fall asleep tonight. Deal?
My eyebrows lifted in interest.
HAVEN: Can you actually do that?
WICK: No idea. But I’m willing to try.
That was good enough for me.
HAVEN: Deal.
It wasn’t until I was working at the preschool and leading my little team of kids in a song and dance routine about five little monkeys sitting in a tree and teasing Mr. Crocodile that I remembered Izzy and her ability to read every message Wick received.
“Oh my God.” Gasping, I slapped my hand over my mouth and closed my eyes. Oh Lord. Well, I guess his sister now knew Wick and I were sexually active. That wasn’t embarrassing at all. Nope.
