Page 63 of Festive Faking
Licking my lips as a shaky exhale escaped them, I marveled at how many different ways Mac had brought me to orgasm. This time, he’d done so without removing a single stitch of clothing. In fact, I was wearing extra.
My prior experience might’ve been non-existent, but Bex had shared hers with me over the years. From her stories, I’d learned it wasn’t always easy for women to achieve climax with a partner. The chemistry I shared with Mac, his ability to command my body so effortlessly, was special.
He would be the benchmark I used to measure the men who came after him. I was almost positive I would find them all lacking, and that thought had a shudder running through me.
“You’re cold. Let’s go inside.” Mac rose to his knees, offering me a hand.
My eyes dipped to his crotch; he was still rock-hard, no wet spot to be seen. A feeling of inadequacy crashed over me, causing my shoulders to slump.
Had I done something wrong that prevented him from getting off? I wanted to ask but was too afraid of the answer, so I kept my lips pressed firmly shut.
Concern colored his tone. “Something wrong? You went from a sexually satisfied vixen to a sad puppy.” He snapped his fingers. “Like that.”
I couldn’t meet his gaze, electing to keep it trained on the blankets twisted around my legs. Summoning every ounce of courage I possessed, I stated the obvious, “You didn’t finish.”
“Failing to see how that’s a bad thing.” Chilled fingers gripped my chin, forcing my eyes up. “Most girls would be thrilled that I didn’t blow too soon.”
His mention of other women set me over the top, and I wrenched out of his hold.
He was so stunned that it took him a moment to spring into action when I hopped off the back of the truck so fast that I almost face-planted.
Heavy footfalls alerted me that he was hot on my heels, and I quickened my pace. If I got to the cabin first, maybe I could lock myself in the bathroom for a minute to calm down.
I yelped when Mac cut me off, stepping in front of me so that I slammed right into his hard chest.
With a steadying grip on my biceps, he forced me backward until I was standing at arm’s length. “What the hell, Aspen?” A flicker of both confusion and hurt was etched across his features.
Shrugging my shoulders, I pulled out of his grip, putting even more space between us. “I’m notmost girls!” My nostrils flared, breaths coming in short puffs that created icy clouds in the air.
Instead of backing down, Mac stepped into me until our chests touched. One hand tangled in my hair and gripped the strands at the nape of my neck, causing me to gasp. “You’ve got that right, honey.Most girlswould be having a private moment in a quiet library, and I’d turn tail to avoid entangling myself in their drama.Most girlsdon’t make me smile by simply walking into a room.Most girlsdon’t know what it’s like to fall asleep in my arms. And if all of that’s not enough,most girlsdon’t knowand probably wouldn’t like the guy I am when you strip away the wealth and connections my last name provides. You are the furthest thing frommost girls, Aspen Sullivan.”
The part he’d left unsaid hung heavy between us. If I wasn’tmost girls, did that mean I wasthegirl?
Not wanting to pull on that thread for fear of misreading between the lines, I challenged, “Then why wasn’t I enough?”
“Enough?” His brows furrowed.
I shifted my hips, rubbing against his erection. “It didn’t take much the last time. When you were driving.”
His mouth dropped open, and a disbelieving exhale flew out. “That’swhat this all stemmed from? You think it’s your fault that I managed to hang onto the tiniest shred of willpower to hold off until I was buried deep inside that hot, tight pussy of yours?”
Well, when he put it like that . . .
Embarrassment blazed a path up my neck and onto my cheeks. With how he held my head immobile, there was no way to avoid his burning gaze.
“And for the record”—his face filled my entire field of vision—“one more thrust, and I’d have been done for. I was that close.”
I shoved at his chest, needing space to breathe. He let me go easily, and I stumbled backward a few steps, placing my hands on my knees to try and clear the black spots dancing across everything I saw.
“What was your plan in the unlikely event you managed to outrun me?”
Head popping up, I found Mac standing a few feet away with both hands shoved into the pockets of his sweatpants.
My cringe was audible. “Hide in the bathroom?”
The man actually snorted; he was so amused.
Saying it out loud, I heard how silly it sounded. What was I gonna do? Camp out in there all night? It’s not like there waseven a tub I could sleep in. Logic kinda flew out the window when I’d let my temper take over.
