“From one to ten, how much do you like these jeans?” His warm breath is tracing a path below my belly button…lower…lower…and melting every functional brain cell I still possess. And there aren’t that many left after the last few weeks.
How the hell am I supposed to recall what pair of jeans I’m wearing? I can barely remember my own name.
“Minus eleven,” I grunt, firming my grip on the sheets.
Plink, plink, plink. I hear what I think are the buttons of my jeans hitting the hardwood floor. Jesus Christ, he actually shredded my jeans from my body. I look down to confirm my suspicion.
My jeans are now a heap of fabric, resting near the foot of the bed, buttons nowhere to be seen. Ty inspects my underwear, a baby-blue cotton pair, nowhere near as interesting as the bimbo thongs that hung on his fence. He rips my panties from my body with his teeth. His mouth grazes my sex, making every hair on my body stand. He grabs the pillow next to my head and shoves it underneath my butt, tucking his huge shoulders between my thighs.
“Oh, God!” I yelp as his tongue runs over my entrance, top to bottom. My thighs are trembling and my core is about to explode. Ty sends one hand to stroke my nipples, and digs in, his mouth and tongue giving me no escape. He picks up intensity and speed gradually, sucking on my clit and using his fingers with his free hand.
“This is what I have on my mind twenty-four-fucking-seven, Barbie.” His voice touches everything inside me.
My teeth are chattering. Everything, and I mean everything, tingles. I stifle a moan into my forearm, worried my screams will make his roof fly sky high. I feel high. I have zero control of my mouth, my legs, yet strangely I’ve never felt more connected to my body.
My orgasm comes crashing in waves. It washes over me from the top of my head to my curling toes. A scream escapes my mouth and Ty rushes back up to shut me up with a rapturous kiss before the neighbors call the cops on us. He forces me into tasting myself. I pant heavily as his weight crushes against me and he grazes my chin teasingly.
“Shhhhh.” He plants feathery kisses over my lower face. “You'll wake the dead.”
Well, for once, I'm actually speechless. Sex with Ty is like nothing I ever imagined. It keeps getting better and better. And it’s made me realize some not-so-fun facts:
No matter what I previously thought, I never had an orgasm before I hooked up with him.
Every guy I dated previously had absolutely no idea what he was doing.
I, myself, had no idea what I was doing.
Selfishness aside, Ty Wilder should totally give out orgasms for a living.
He is lying on the other side of the bed, lips glistening sexily. I want all of him, so badly. There’ll never be enough of him to keep me satisfied. I want to drink him in, to gorge on him, to have him every second of the day. Hell, I want to know that he is mine.
I shoot him a glance, digging up my courage. “You make me happy, Tyler. Which is weird, because you’re not even my type!”
Ty smiles his blazing hot smile, half his face still smashed against the pillow. “Yet you’re here.”
“Yet I’m here,” I agree. “Guess you had me at ‘I won't hit you, but I'll hurt you'.”
“You had me at ‘Keep walking, cowboy,’” he rasps.
The room is so hot my eyes are burning like I’m standing too close to a bonfire that’s about to get out of control. Beads of sweat glue my hair to my back and both our bodies shine under the yellow light in a caramel hue.
“Really?” I laugh, repositioning myself on his bed so I can lean and watch him closely.
He nods, picks up a bottle of water from underneath his bed and takes a swig. “When I first met you, I thought you were pointblank crazy. You’re less than half my size. I could have killed you just by blowing air in your direction. But I liked how feisty you were. Also, you were pretty funny.”
"Thank you."
"And sexy. I wanted you before I even knew your name."
"Buttering me up, are you?" I grin and crawl my way to his side of the bed, shamelessly nuzzling. "So, do we still need to have that talk about me not telling you about Shane?"
“No, but you really need to work on that honesty thing."
"Are you one hundred percent honest with me?" I ask. He exhales sharply, the mist of his body heat and luscious scent prickling my face.
To my surprise, he shakes his head. My heart plummets when he stops the caressing and straightens up against the headboard. "I need time to sort some shit out,” he says. “I got myself into a sticky situation before I met you. I guess I need to share this...I just don't want to do it right this second.”