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“Oh…” Her mouth is agape.
“Good?”
She nods. “So good.”
My free hand pulls her down for yet another kiss; I cannot get enough of her sweet, soft mouth, her shy tongue, her soft moans.
At the same time, I coat my hand with her stickiness. “You’re so good and wet for me. Is this pussy ready for me?”
She pulls back abruptly.
“Harley,” she whispers. “I have something else to tell you before this goes any further.”
CHAPTERSIX
Charlotte
Every guy I’ve ever dated reacted negatively to me being a virgin, especially about wanting to go slow.
Harley is making me realize that no explanation is needed.
And that alone is making me fall hard and fast.
Harley also makes me want to do anything but go slow.
With his hand on my pussy, I feel so many new sensations I never thought possible. How could anything that feels this good be wrong?
“What is it, sweet pea?”
Harley withdraws his hand from my shorts. Sigh. My noble decision to tell him the entire truth will not get me laid tonight.
Sometimes having a conscience really sucks.
“It wasn’t just professionalism. I…hesitated to date you because of how big you are.”
His brow furrows. “How do you know how big I am?”
I roll my eyes. “Everybody knows, Harley.”
He gapes at me like he can’t believe I said that out loud. Then he devastates me, folding his arms over his chest in a defensive posture.
“Harley. Come on. You have to know.”
“I guess.” He lifts one shoulder, sulking.
“I kind of paid you a compliment, and you seem more upset about this than about me deceiving you.”
He scoffs. “I’m upset because you didn’t trust me to be good to you. I’m upset because you dismissed me because of something I can’t control.”
God, I never thought of it like that. But he’s right. It’s no different than a man dismissing me because of my inability to have kids.
“I’m sorry for being scared of your big dick, Harley.”
I say this as I stare at the wall, wondering what will happen next. Does he want to leave but feels stuck here? My words hang in the air momentarily, and I realize how ridiculous it all sounds.
And then, he wheezes.
I snap my gaze to his. He has one hand on his stomach, and his head rests on the back of the sofa. At first, I think he’s having a health crisis. I lean in closer to him. “Harley?”
