Page 78 of Best Served Cold

He’s also crazy hot, and I definitely want to have sex with him.

I’m not ready to consider anything more meaningful either, so why worry about what I might want in the future? Shouldn’t I just live in the now?

So I swallow my worry and say, “You don’t tell me what I want. Besides, I’ve asked Mrs. Ginnis, and she approves.”

He flashes me an impish grin. “What if I’d like to tell you what to do?”

Damn it. My body likes hearing that. A lot. “Maybe I’d allow it, under very specific circumstances.”

“Spread your legs for me.”

They open without bothering to check in with my brain. He glides his hands up my inner thighs, and the roughness of his calluses against the skin there drives every last worry out of my mind. “Your hands are so rough.” He laughs, and I rush to add, “In a good way. From playing, I guess. That feels really nice, and?—”

He leans in and kisses my inner thigh—very close to where I’m aching for him—and then lightly bites it. My eyes flutter open. Goodness. No one’s ever done that there before…

My legs open wider in silent invitation. I run my hand through his hair, grabbing on, as he spreads my legs wider and kisses his way inward, switching between my legs so neither gets lonely. It feels so otherworldly, so deeply good that the ache might kill me. Literally. He’s playing with me, toying with me, and I need his mouth on me. Now.

“Rob.You’re in the wrong place.”

“Lie back and think of England,” he says devilishly as he tugs on my legs, pulling them over his shoulders.

Oh.Oh.

He sucks me in, his mouth so clever, and I bury my hand deeper into his hair, needing something to hang on to, because he’s really good at this.

Or are you just really into him?an aggravating voice asks, trying to steal me from the moment.

But I have to admit both things are true. If it had been someone else with their head between my legs—a stranger from a bar—it wouldn’t feel like this.

And then I can’t think anymore. Sensation and pleasure have so thoroughly taken hold of me that I can’t process anything but the feeling of his mouth on me and his soft, shaggy hair clutched in my hand. I’m overcome. I’m?—

“I’m coming,” I whisper, shocked, because usually it takes much longer than this, and my words have him sucking harder, moving his tongue in a way that makes me release a shocked moan as pleasure tightens its grip.

My body tenses and then releases, and I’m left with a feeling of serenity that’s frankly amazing.

He leans back, letting my feet drop to the floor, and makes a show of licking his lips.

IknowI have to be blushing. “That was…wow.”

He smiles. “Good. Wow is my baseline. Anything below it, and I’d have work to do.”

I don’t like thinking about that, about all the other women he must have been with. The thought doesn’t last, though. I feel too good. And from the way he’s looking at me, he’s not done yet.

I reach for him and pull him on top of me. His body feels incredibly warm and big and firm.Veryfirm.

He kisses me and trails a hand up my shirt, and self-consciousness catches me unaware. My boobs have always been small—but perky!Hannah said when I brought it up. They’re a source of embarrassment and have been ever since I had to change in front of other girls in gym class. My exes never paid them much mind at all.

“You don’t have to do that,” I say, moving his hand.

“Does that mean you don’t want me to,” he asks, “or are you just informing me that I don’t have to?”

“I know they’re small. It’s not like I’m blind or anything.” I never would have been so direct with another man, but Rob has made it clear that this is a no-strings situation. Besides, I don’t feel nearly as self-conscious with him as I’ve felt with other people.

He lifts himself up so he can look me in the eye and very pointedly lifts the hem of my shirt. I let him help me take it off, but now I feel my cheeks burning.

“You have to take yours off too. It’s only fair,” I say.

His answer is to pull his shirt up by the hem—his arms flexing with the movement—and reveals a very nice, defined chest that I instantly want to run my fingers and tongue over.

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