Something Reckless(73)

I lick my lips. I don’t know why I want to do this for him. I’m not even sure why he wants me to. All I know is that the feel of my own fingers resting against my slick flesh has never been so arousing. All I know is that I want this as much as he does.

I roll to my side, facing him, but I don’t remove my hand from between my legs. “I was on my stomach,” I whisper. “Do you want me to roll onto my stomach or stay like this?”

“Stay like this.” The command is rough, scratched out against a throat full of need. I want to kiss him, to tell him this wouldn’t be so hot to me if he weren’t here. If he weren’t looking at me, talking to me. “You were having a good dream,” he prompts.

I lick my lips and begin moving my hand between my legs. “It was easier that way,” I say softly. “Being half asleep, I mean. It’s not like I thought there was anything wrong with masturbation, not . . .” My breath catches as my fingers find my clit. His eyes go dark. “Not intellectually.”

“Let go, sweetheart. Just ride with it. Don’t worry about me.”

I watch him for a while, captivated by the way his eyes lock on my fingers as they work between my legs, the rise and fall of his chest, his audible swallow as he holds himself back. His fingers are locked around my other wrist, trapping it, adding pressure from time to time. Otherwise, he doesn’t touch me at all. It’s by my hand alone that I ride to that summit. I stroke my clit, pinching it lightly before softening my touch and simply rocking my hips to rub against my hand.

I let my eyes float closed and take myself there, guided by nothing but my own pleasure and the sound of his breathing.

When I come back down, I roll to my back, muscles loose, body satisfied. He kisses my collarbone.

“Thanks,” he whispers.

“Thanks?”

“Yeah, that was one of the best things I’ve seen. Ever.” His grin is so charming, and it sends a buzz of warmth all the way through my sated body.

“You know some guys don’t like the idea of their woman touching herself.”

He cocks a brow. “I am firmly not in that category.”

I bring my hand to his lips. “I noticed.”

Grabbing my wrist, he draws two fingers into his mouth, wrapping his tongue around them and sucking hard.

All that sleepy warmth tingles at the attention of his mouth on my fingers, and my body starts to wake.

“Let’s just say that, even if it took you until college, I’m glad you finally came around.” He winks. “What do you think changed?”

I snort. “I was frustrated. I’d get close when I was with guys, but they could never quite get me there. I guess I finally decided if you want a job done right, you’ve gotta do it yourself.”

My eyes flick up to his and I watch him as he swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing. “Connor didn’t . . .”

“Most girls don’t their first time, silly.”

“I would have made sure you did.”

“Easy for you to say. You weren’t there.”

“I would have made sure,” he repeats.

“Okay, Mr. Confidence, how would you have made sure?”

He lowers his head on the pillow and stares at me for a minute. I like this—Sam and me, naked in bed, bodies turned toward each other. It’d be too easy to get used to something like this.

“I would have made damn sure you got off before I ever slid inside you. I would have played with you until you had no choice but to come. And I’d have only let myself fuck you after I’d felt your pussy squeeze around my fingers. It’s not rocket science.”

I laugh. “Is that going to be part of your proposed pussy class for young men?”

His brow wrinkles in confusion, and I feel as if an invisible fist has punched me. Because it wasn’t Sam who’d talked about a “pussy class.” It was River. And I just confused them.

“What pussy class?”

It’s not rocket science. Hadn’t River said something similar? And for a minute, I forgot Sam isn’t River. For too many weeks, I believed he was, and now I’m all screwed up.

I swallow hard and force a smile. “I’m thinking of someone else. Sorry. That wasn’t you.”

He rolls onto me and pins my hands above my head. “You’re thinking of someone else while you’re naked in bed with me?”

“What are you going to do about it?” I say in my best show of bravado, but he’s already kissing his way down my body, showing me exactly what he plans to do.





Chapter Twenty





Liz



“You’re here early.”

I’m setting out pastries and coffee from Hanna’s bakery on the table in the conference room when I turn and see Mr. Bradshaw leaning in the doorway. “First time in my life I’ve had a job that made me excited about Monday morning,” I say. “It’s an odd feeling.”