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“Hell yes,” I reply.
“Maybe you can finish on me here?” She turns around and runs a finger down the center of her chest, right between her tits.
Taking myself in my hand, I stroke up and down, loving how shewatches every move with hungry eyes. “Hurry up, because I can’t fucking wait.”
“Yes, sir,” she says, those two submissive words making me even harder.
This is without a doubt the best night ever.
CHAPTER TWELVE
Lyla
After I got on my knees on my bedroom floor and jerked Barrett off, he came on my chest, then crawled back onto the mattress and fell right asleep. With a smile on his face, I might proudly add.
While I’m a little sore between my legs and my jaw aches, it was all well worth it.
Best. First time. Ever.
I can’t wait to call my best friend, Holly, and tell her I finally lost my virginity.
First, though, I need to use the restroom and clean up the house. Oh, and discard the condom from earlier by covering it and the wrapper in toilet paper so it’s not obvious if my dad looks in my bathroom trash can.
My dress and bra are still strewn in the hallway, along with my necklace, so I pick them up and take them to the clothes to the hamper in the laundry room. I had considered throwing the dirtydress away because I didn’t want the reminder of Laurel’s wedding or the creepy guy I thought I saw before I fell. But Barrett turned my entire night around.
Maybe I should tell him the truth when he wakes up, that I thought someone was following me.
It’ll be hours before my dad or grandma come home, but just in case, I gather up Barrett’s clothes, put away the baby oil, and close the bathroom window.
Barrett is still asleep in my bed, buck naked, curled up on his side, and clutching a pillow, when I get back to my room, but I’m still wide-awake.
I stretch out beside him, admiring every curve of his handsome face, every single short hair in his neatly trimmed beard, his dark eyelashes.
His brownish-blond hair is mussed from my fingers, making him go from badass and sexy as hell with all of his dark tattoos to simply being adorable.
I’m not sure how long I sit there staring at him before the mechanical churning sound of the garage door opening snaps me out of it. As if there was any doubt, it’s followed by the familiar grumbly sound of a motorcycle engine.
Shit!
I shake Barrett’s shoulder. “Barrett! Barrett, wake up. My dad’s home.”
That has him startling awake, eyes flying open. He tries to roll out of bed, but a foot gets caught in the rumpled sheets, so he lands on the floor with a loud thump.
“Ow.”
Running around the bed to check on him, I find him sitting up, rubbing his hip. “Are you okay?”
“Yeah. Find my clothes while I try to get the window up?”
I spin around to grab the pile of clothes I put on the dresser, ready to hand them over as soon as he gets the window up. Whichhe, of course, is strong enough to do in seconds while I struggled with no luck.
“No screen. Good,” he says as he turns to me and snatches his jeans to pull them up his legs. He shoves his socks into his pockets and feet into his boots. His shirt and biker cut are still outside the bathroom window, which I’m sure he won’t forget.
When he’s done dressing, he looks at me for a second, then says, “Thank you for tonight.”
“I’m really glad you stayed,” I tell him rather than say he’s welcome for the sex, blowjob, and baby oil boob/hand job.
“Me too. I felt like myself tonight for the first time in as long as I can remember.”
