Page 81 of Ripple Effect

“Showered together?”

“Mhm.”

He regards me for a moment, the corner of his mouth lifting in a smirk, a flicker of amusement in his eyes. “Don’t be shy. I told you, pretty girl—” He tilts my chin, leaning in for a quick kiss. “—I like it when you’re greedy.”

Gulping down my growing nerves, I say, “I know, but we still haven’t ... gone all the way yet.”

“Oh, we’re getting there.” He smiles, a lopsided, boyish grin that robs me of air. “But we’re taking it slow, remember? Figuring out what you like, what you need?”

“Same goes for you, right?”

“Exactly.”

“Well, I think what Ineedis to have sex with you,” I confess, the heat of embarrassment coloring my face. “I mean, God, just look at you right now.”

A storm brews in his eyes, darkening them. His gaze slides to my lips, and he unconsciously wets his own with a slow swipe of his tongue. “Gracie’s still here, isn’t she?”

I arch a brow, feigning indifference. “Yeah, so?”

“So, let’s maybe wait until we’re completely alone. We can make a whole night of it over at my place.”

“Oh, a whole night of it, huh? Ambitious.”

“Only time you can call me an overachiever.”

“So, tonight, then?”

With a predatory swiftness, he draws me closer, eliminating the space between us. His arousal, hard and insistent, presses into me through the thin terry cloth of his towel. “Eager, aren’t you?”

Drawing in a shaky breath, I manage to mumble some sort of affirmation. My fingers graze his lower back, seeking more of him. He leans closer, lips peppering kisses against my neck as every inch of him presses against me.

“You want me to fill you up, Daisy?”

“Yes,” I nearly moan.

“Pump inside of you until you’re so fucking full that you can’t stand it?”

“Jesus, El.”

He chuckles, deep and low. “You like that, don’t you? When I talk to you like that?”

“I really do.”

“Good to know.”

I tilt my head, genuinely curious. “Where do words like that even come from?”

“At this point, it just comes naturally.”

“I’d like to say I know what you mean, but I think my mind just goes blank during sex. I feel like if I tried to come up with something, whatever I said would make me sound silly.”

His brow furrows, a shadow of concern crossing his features. “Sorry, back up—your mind goesblankduring sex?”

“I mean, sometimes?” I shrug a tad defensively. “Is that not ... normal?”

“I mean, there are variations of normal. But ... I don’t know, that doesn’t sound all that great.” He hesitates, searching for the right words. “I mean, if we’re talking about the same kind of blank here, then I can relate to the feeling. I dissociate a lot while I’m working, disconnect from my real self to get the scenes done. Though, I’d imagine you wouldn’t want to when it’s someone you care about.”

I take a moment, digesting the depth of what he’s saying and finding it surprisingly hard to swallow. “Oh, I see.”

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