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There’s nothing ugly about this girl. She’s fearless. She’s challenging. She’s so fucking beautiful that my chest crest craters and my cock throbs every time I look at her.
And it’s finally crossed my mind that she’s also lonely.
“You don’t scare me, baby.”
She shakes her head. “Conner.”
“Quiet now. Come over here.”
But she never takes orders without putting up a fight. “What for? To finish the conversation with a fuck?”
“No, not right now.” And not like this, with a hundred people on the other side of the door and the catcalls of other men as a sick soundtrack. The first time I get her underneath me I’m taking my motherfucking time.
She finally obeys, strutting past my knees to sink into the far side of the sofa. It’s difficult to crush the need to haul her into my lap, pry her thighs apart and tear that dress like a tissue.
Haven, with no clue about my inner turmoil, slouches into the suede cushion and stifles a yawn.
“Bored?” I ask.
She tsks her tongue. “You know that nothing about you is boring. I just don’t get much sleep at night. I have a habit of dozing off in here for a little while.”
“That’s a good idea. Let’s have a nap.”
“A nap isn’t sex.”
“Jeez, you’re obsessed with sex. It’s borderline abnormal.” I snatch one of the couch pillows and balance it on my thigh. “There.”
She stares at the pillow. “Amazing. What trick will you perform next?”
“It’s a buffer.”
“A buffer against what?”
“The prospect of my dick accidentally landing in your mouth. Lie down.”
There she goes, her jaw steeled, her eyes flashing stubbornness. She doesn’t move when I slide my hand across the back of the sofa, close enough for my fingers to capture a section of her long hair. I let the strands filter through my fingers and this is enough to make her squirm.
My eyes drop to her soft mouth. I can’t wait to use the hell out of those lips in the filthiest sense. But first, I’m going to prove that I’m not here for something quick and dirty. I can get quick and dirty anywhere. I want more from her.
Winding one finger in a circle, I trap her hair and draw her closer, inch by inch.
She must really be tired. It only takes seconds for her resistance to crumble. She curls her legs up on the couch before pressing her cheek to the pillow.
I’m forced to bite my own tongue to destroy a lusty groan. But I’ll behave myself. For the moment. Can’t make any promises about what will happen later.
Haven settles in and I try to think about something besides the reality of her head being inches from my cock. She sweeps her hair aside, letting it fan out in a dark curtain. Right above the shell of her ear I catch a glimpse of gold trying to break through at the root.
My thumb finds the nape of her neck and rolls in slow circles, massaging gently. Her eyelids flutter closed and the tension drains from her muscles. Using my free hand, I try to wrestle my phone out of my back pocket without disturbing her. Once it’s in my palm, I ask, “Beach or rainy day?”
She yawns again. “What?”
“It’s a sound app I use every night. My favorite is the beach but I’m willing to compromise.”
“I don’t like the rain,” she says and fights another yawn. “When it rains the whole east side smells like a landfill.”
“We’ll stick with the beach.” I press a button and waves crash. Seagulls scream through the wind in the background. Stretching, I reach for the light switch on the wall with the tips of my fingers.
Haven doesn’t stir when I flip the light off. The faint sigh escaping through her lips is something sweet and fragile. I can feel the rise and fall of her breath turning steady as she descends into her dreams, completely trusting and vulnerable.
