Sex Says(78)

My breathing grew needy and ragged when the kiss went on for too long and started to serve as some sort of delicious torture, building my desire to feel him. All of him. I gripped the edge of his T-shirt and pulled it over his head. His jeans were unbuttoned and unzipped, and his cock was in my hands moments later.

I stared down at what he looked like while I stroked my hand up and down the length of him. I was mesmerized by his size…his feel—soft like velvet and hard as stone—but I wanted his taste. My thumb slid over the tip of his cock, and I brought it to my mouth, sliding it past my lips until the sweet yet salty taste of Reed tickled my taste buds.

A husky groan fell from his lips, his chest vibrating, and my thighs clenched in response.

He pulled me off of the dryer, fingertips clenching into the skin of my hips, and set my ass down on the folding table in the middle of the room.

I watched in anticipation, breathing shaky, as he unbuttoned my jeans. Easing the way, l lifted my hips as he slowly slid them and my panties down my body. His hands gripped my thighs again, and he spread my legs, baring me completely to his heated gaze.

His groan of approval made my heart beat faster as he gently slid his index finger inside of me and found me wet with need. “You’re so beautiful, LoLo.”

“So are you,” I whispered, and I meant it.

I’d never met a more beautiful man than Reed—and I wasn’t just talking about his outward appearance. His soul drew me in. The world wasn’t the same through his eyes, and judgment was something best left to God. Every experience was worthy of at least one try, and he’d never met a stranger. He was beautiful. Everything about him.

“I want you,” I whispered.

“I want you, too.” He pulled a condom out of his back pocket and slid it down the length of him, his lips teasing mine.

I felt drunk trying to concentrate on everything at once.

“Watch, Lo. Watch me slide inside you.”

Defiance wasn’t even an option. Slowly, inch by inch, he pushed himself inside me, and I didn’t stop staring, couldn’t stop watching, even when he was pushed to the hilt.

His hand slid up my neck until his fingers reached my chin, lifting my gaze to his. Our eyes stayed locked as Reed moved in and out, bleeding himself into me with every stroke. He wasn’t hurried or harsh, and the intimate connection far superseded our physical joining. There was a current from him that flowed into me, and when it came back out the other side, mine had joined it to form an us.

I could feel everything—his long fingers gripping my thighs, the warmth of his breath brushing across my skin, the way my heart pounded inside my chest. My thighs clenched as I struggled to find air, but I was rooted there, stuck in his blue gaze.

This was the most intimate encounter I had ever experienced in my life. Every time we’d come together had been something, but now, finally free of my own persecutions and judgments, my own avoidance and denial, this felt real.

“This isn’t just sex, is it?” I asked on a whisper before editing my question into a statement. “This isn’t just some random fuck in a public place.”

He shook his head. “Never. Not with you.”

As he thrust inside of me with an intensity that matched his words, it was all I could do to wrap my legs around his waist and bury my face in his neck.

“This is everything,” I whispered into his skin, a rush of emotion clogging my throat and my pores and fighting to escape.

His eyes met mine again, and his hands came to my jaw. I softly pressed my lips to his.

“I don’t hate you,” I said against his mouth, and he smiled against my lips.

One soft piece of hair felt cold against the back of my ear as he tucked it there. “I know.”

Our eyes stayed locked, and I searched his endless gaze. To the bottom of his ocean and back, inside those depths of blue, I found only trust and tenderness and affection. A great deal of affection.

Maybe even the same thing I figured lingered under the surface of my own eyes—love.

Something had changed between us.

And I didn’t want to go back.

Around him, I felt good and strong and like everything someone had once suggested about me was wrong, was right.

For the first time in my thirty-two years, Reed made me feel like a woman.





“Reed Fucking Luca.”

I winced as I lifted the hand not clasped with Lola’s and greeted my favorite coffeehouse owner slash barista. “Hey, Tony.”

His eyes lingered on mine for only a moment before straying to the woman attached to me. In an oversized gray sweatshirt that hung off of her shoulders, cutoff olive-green shorts, and her maroon-colored glasses, Lola looked like everything a comfortable woman should—poised, genuine, and a little bit tired from staying up late with me.