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“A little,” I admit.
“Tell you what,” he says. “Let’s practice.”
I nod and reach for the drawer on his nightstand.
He grabs my hand. “No.”
“We’re using a condom, Brock. I won’t be that woman.”
“I know a little about women’s physiology. I grew up on a ranch.”
“I’m not sure how to tell you this, but human women are different from cows.”
“Ha. You’re funny, Rory. What I mean is that you’re close to getting your period, so it’s unlikely you’ll become pregnant if we have unprotected sex.”
“True, but it’s no guarantee.”
“Then let’s take a walk on the wild side,” he says, his eyes sparkling. “I want to make love to you. Just you and me with no latex separating us. I want to feel all of you, Rory, and I want you to feel all of me.”
Then his mouth is on mine, and he’s wrangling the towel off my body.
My face is still a swollen and red mess, but he wants me. I feel it in his kiss, in his movements. He wants me, and he wants me without the barrier of a condom.
I won’t get pregnant—most likely anyway.
And part of me isn’t ready to stop being sad yet.
But part of me…
Part of me is horny as hell and wants Brock’s hard dick inside me now. Make that yesterday.
I grab his cock through his towel, grasp it, and squeeze.
“God…” he groans into my mouth.
My nipples are hard and taut, and they want his lips, teeth, tongue… But I won’t be the one to break this kiss—this kiss that’s like a narcotic.
A narcotic, and I’m addicted. So addicted.
And my pussy…
God, my pussy…
It wants his lips, teeth, and tongue…
It wants his cock. His hard cock, thrusting, thrusting, thrusting…
But Iwon’tbreak this kiss.
I won’t break—
I jerk at the sound of my phone ringing.
Brock leaves my mouth, nibbles over to my ear. “Ignore it,” he whispers.
Good advice. I’ll ignore it.
The ringing eventually stops.
