Page 25 of Paxton

He pulls back from our kiss an inch, eyes churning with lust. “Still trust me?”

I nod immediately, not a hint of hesitation in my soul.

His hand moves higher, just barely teasing the cotton fabric covering me. “Still want me to show you?”

“Yes,” I breathe the word. “Paxton, please,” I beg, not caring how desperate I sound. My body is wound so tightly, my skin so sensitive, my lips aching for his mouth. “Just don’t stop.”

“Fuck, Monroe,” he groans before he claims my mouth again, his fingers teasing me over the fabric.

I gasp between his lips, clinging to him tighter as he slips his fingers beneath the fabric covering me, sliding them between my wetness.

“Fuck,” he groans against my mouth before he teases me, gliding one finger inside my heat, then two. He draws back, catching my gaze as he slowly pumps those fingers inside me. “You’re fucking beautiful,” he says, his voice rough and raw. “You feel this?” he says, curling his fingers and making me whimper.

“Yes,” I breathe.

“This is hownotbroken you are,” he says, pumping and curling those fingers, every move feeling like absolute heaven.

My mind threatens to analyze it—to unpack why I can feel this way with Paxton so damn easily—but I force it away. I stay right where I’m at, in the very heated present with my best friend.

“I’ve wanted to do this with you for years,” he continues, wetting his thumb with my slickness before dragging it in teasing circles over my throbbing clit. “That’s how fucking desirable you are, Monroe.”

“Paxton,” I gasp as he presses down a little harder on that bundle of nerves, kissing me and curling his fingers at the same time.

My head is spinning, my body submitting to Paxton’s touch without so much as a second of hesitation. My skin is hot, my heart pounding. Everything in me is aching with need. I rock against his hand, chasing that feeling.

He pumps faster, using the heel of his palm to grind against my clit, all while kissing me, his tongue rubbing against mine and making me see freaking stars with every touch.

“Paxton,” I gasp between our lips. “I…I…”

I can’t speak, can’t form a coherent thought. Not while I’m swept under a current of explosive pleasure, my body clenching around him as waves of heat crash beneath my skin as I come on his fingers.

Andkeepcoming.

Paxton’s moves shift, slowing but still drawing out every ounce of pleasure I possess.

I cling to him as I catch my breath, and he gently pulls his hand out from underneath my skirt. He dips down, kissing me again, slower this time and with more meaning?—

“Monroe?” Blakely’s voice sounds from the entrance of the bar, the inquiry jolting us apart slightly.

“Coming!” I call out to her, not wanting her to peek around this corner and see just how tangled up Paxton and I are. Not that we have anything to hide—we’re both consenting adults—but…I’m not even sure how to explain what just happened, my head is still spinning.

“Okay! Just checking!” Blakely calls back.

I look up at Paxton and he grazes a knuckle down my cheek. “Your disappearance has been noticed,” he says, his voice just this side of rough. “You better get back in there.”

“What about you?”

Pax shifts against me, and I gasp, heat blazing up my spine at the hard contact I feel. He kisses me again, quickly this time. “I need a minute.”

I swallow hard, stuck in a locked battle of knowing I should go before I make a terrifying decision, like beg him to take me home right now.

“What if I don’t want to go?” I whisper the question.

He smirks. “We live together,” he says. “A few minutes won’t hurt.”

I breathe, fully feeling the relief of that statement. We don’t have to do anything else right now or analyze what happened ortalk it out. He’s giving me the space to breathe and think and it’s…it’s everything.

“Go,” he says. “I’ll be inside in a minute.”

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