I lick the tip of his thumb, then close my teeth around him, sucking him between my lips.
Ty tips his head back, pulling in a long, slow breath. It’s his tell that he’s turned on, and it fuels me with so much confidence and desire that I forget about all the ways I’ve struggled to forget about Ricky’s words, realizing his assessment was never a reflection of me or my worth, but rather of himself.
Tyler’s skin is still hot from being under the covers as I trace over his abs and continue sucking on his thumb. Fire burns in his blue eyes as he releases a harsh breath. “Are they still asleep?” He tilts his head in the direction of the bedrooms, keeping his focus on me.
I lick his thumb a final time before freeing it. “They’re gone.”
His eyes dilate, the thin veil of hesitation now ash as he claims my mouth, his tongue and lips forceful and demanding as his hands skirt beneath my shirt, gripping my waist. It takes my full attention to meet the challenge his mouth offers, but when his hands don’t continue to explore my body, I nip at his bottom lip and move them to cover my breast.
“I like when you’re bossy,” he says with a grin, his thumb grazing over my hardened nipple. His lips come down on my throat, kissing and sucking at the sensitive skin as his hands skate along the sides of my breasts. I turn my neck, wanting to feel his lips everywhere as he rolls my nipples between his fingers, his tongue tasting my skin.
I place my hand over his erection and smile when he groans against my neck, encouraging me to trace over his length.
Tyler reaches for my sweatshirt and pulls both it and my tee clean off, his hungry gaze on my chest. Then he slides his hands gently into the waistband of my shorts and underwear, kissing me from my collarbone down to my breasts as he slowly begins to lower my shorts. He closes his lips over my nipple, gently biting into my flesh, making arousal pool between my legs. His fingertips skim over my chest, my abdomen, the few inches of my exposed backside where my shorts are still on, just lowered. He moves to my other nipple, flicking his tongue across the surface and making me moan as I bury my hands in his hair, trying to pull him closer, but instead, he traces a path down along my stomach, sliding my shorts and underwear to my ankles where they pool on the floor. He kisses me down to my pulic bone, making me shiver with anticipation. Sitting back on his heels, Ty looks up at me, like I’m something to marvel—something to praise. “God, you’re beautiful.” He places both hands on my hips. “Lean back.”
I do without turning to see what’s behind me. My trust in him has become second nature and undeniable. The coolness of the leather couch hits the back of my thighs, sending a shiver through me before his hot mouth seals over my clit, the contrast in temperatures adding to the sensation and making my breaths turn harsh. “I want to come with you,” I tell him, trying to gain control over my body and fight the sparks of pleasure he’s orchestrating with his tongue and mouth and lips as he devours me.
“Ty,” I whimper his name, my fingers twining in his hair as the tension in me grows. “I want you inside of me.”
He runs his tongue flat against me as he emits a low growl, and then he’s standing, his chin wet with my arousal. I lean up and kiss him, my breasts grazing his chest as his hands cup my backside. “Turn around,” he says against my mouth. I do, my heart thrumming, my skin on fire, my body craving his touch. Tyler presses against my entrance, and I gasp, pushing my hips back as the anticipation squeezes my chest. “I need to see you,” he rasps.
I peer over my shoulder to meet his scorching gaze. His fingers drag down my back, and then he thrusts into me, pleasure blazing so bright I see stars as he moves inside me. His tempo changes from slow and controlled to fast and hard, his hands gripping my waist, his eyes locked with mine, tracking my reaction to each of his moves. “You ruin me,” he says, his voice a low, guttural growl. “Tell me that you need me as much as I fucking need you.”
He moves a hand to my clit, making my thoughts spin as I work to focus on his words through the clouds of pleasure that are making me come apart. His fingers are relentless, and his thrusts become harder and faster.
“Tell me,” he demands again.
“I need you,” I rasp. “I love you.” The words tumble out, raw and unguarded, making me feel a million times more vulnerable than any sexual position I could imagine.
He pauses for a moment, laying kisses to my shoulder, and then his movements pick up faster, harder, losing all sense of rhythm as his fingers pinch my clit, distracting me from my admission as I begin to shatter, and then his heavy breaths grow louder as he thrusts deeper, and we explode together with an orgasm that leaves me limp as his chest comes down on my back, his arm barring around my waist. His breaths are still coming hard and fast like his heartbeats as he kisses the back of my shoulder and then slides out of me and moves back. The air feels icy against my heated body as I turn to face him.
“Do you want some breakfast?” he asks. “We could order something or go down to the restaurant or pick something up on our way to the Golden Gate Bridge?”
With the absence of him, my words sound louder, ringing in my ears, and even more deafening is the fact he didn’t return them.
I don’t expect him to.
Didn’t expect him to.
We’ve only been together for a second.
I don’t even know where those words came from, much less why I said them.
Truth pierces me in the lungs, calling me on my silent lie.
“I’m game for whatever.”
He smiles, but something is missing, and I swear it’s not just because I’m feeling so vulnerable and self-conscious.
Or is it?
28
Chloe
“Why don’t we get ready? Then we can decide.”
I nod.
Tyler links our fingers, leading me to our room, where the glass shower shines with the reflection of the sliver of sunlight peeking through the curtains. He opens the glass door and steps inside, turning the knob and standing shamelessly, gloriously naked at the side of the spray as he waits for the water to warm. His gaze is on the drain, the window, the bed—everything but me.
“It’s warm,” he says, his eyes flashing to me before he moves to the small bench that is set back far enough not to get wet and that houses all the same products I’ve grown accustomed to seeing at each of our stops.
I step into the shower, struggling to get out of my head, reasoning that I’m feeling so exposed because my filter has seemingly gone from active and dependable to nonexistent in the span of twelve hours. This is me. This is in my head. Nerves are what have me feeling unsteady. I stand under the spray, letting it hit my face and body, trying to rid the feeling that has me desperate to call Nessie so we can meet up and she can organize this mess in my head.
Strong hands run over and then through my hair, the scents of the expensive French shampoo perfuming the air. My body melts like butter as he drops another kiss to my shoulder. His fingers rake over my scalp, massaging me. It feels so good an audible sigh leaves me. He kisses me again, his tongue dancing across my skin. “Tonight, I’m going to fuck you on that bench,” he says, capturing my ear with his teeth. “Then, against the glass.” He runs his hand under my breast, taking the weight in his palm as he grazes his fingers along the edge and avoiding my nipple. “And when you can’t remember your own name, I’m going to take you on our bed and make you come again.” I drop my head back against his shoulder, feeling the embers of desire stirring low in my belly, making my breath catch when his fingers slide down my abdomen.