Page 79 of Best Served Cold

I must say so out loud, because he says, “Me first.”

He caresses my breasts, then lowers his head to suck one nipple at a time, the sensation making the heat from my cheeks invade every inch of my body.

“They’re perfect,” he says, lifting his head again. He sounds a bit angry about it, frankly.

“They’re not?—”

“They are. They’re absolutely perfect, exactly the way they are. I could write a song about your nipples.”

“Please don’t,” I say. And then he’s grinning at me in that teasing way of his, and I feel a rush of fondness. It twines with the need I feel, driven by the sensation of him against me—his mouth and hands on me and the feeling of him hard and demanding inside of his pants.

I lower my hand below his waistband and trace the hard length of him. Excitement spirals through me, especially when he releases an impatient moan, bowing his head to kiss my throat, then my lower lip, while his hand caresses my breast. Treating it like it really is perfect.

“Do you have a condom?” I ask, my whole body tingling at the thought of having him inside me. I need that.Now.

“Uh, no,” he says, pulling back. “I didn’t come over here thinking you were into that. I wasn’t sure you’d even talk to me.”

“You don’t keep one in your wallet?”

He lifts his eyebrows. “Do you?”

I suppose he has a point.

He runs a hand through his hair. “You don’t…you know, have any here?”

He means from when Jonah and I were sleeping together. “Oh, no. I threw them all away as part of my purge.”

His lips form a half-second smile, but it drops quickly, probably because I’m still moving my fingers against his hardness, unwilling to stop.

It’s just, he’s here in my room, and suddenly I can’t get enough of him.

I don’t know if this is ever going to happen again, and it’s horrifying to think that I might not get the Rob Price experience in full.

“I could ask my cousin,” I say, inspired.

“You’re going to ask your cousin for a condom?” he asks flatly.

“Yes.”

“You’re that desperate for my dick?” He moves over me, pressing it into me, and the truth tumbles out:

“Yes.”

He swears under his breath, then kisses me beneath my ear. “That’s incredibly hot. You drive me crazy.”

I feel giddy with a sense of victory. He’s a very sexy man, undoubtedly very experienced, but I drivehimcrazy. That doesn’t sound vanilla, now does it?

“I’m going to do it,” I say, bucking my hips so he’s pressed where I want him, separated only by his pants. “I really am.”

He groans as I give him a final squeeze before getting up.

His gaze lingers on me, as if he’s mapping me inside his brain. “You’re gorgeous.”

I feel it.

I throw the shirt on quickly, followed by the shorts. I probably look insane, and I’m never going to live this down. But I need this to happen. If it doesn’t, I don’t know what I’m going to do with myself. Probably eat more ice cream with a fork.

I leave the room, shutting the door behind me, and march down the hallway to Otis’s room. I lose steam as I reach his door. I mean. I don’t know anything about Otis’s sex life beyond that movie he was watching earlier. What if he’s a virgin? Will he be offended if I ask him for condoms?

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