Page 99 of Road Trip to Forever
I move my body and straddle her legs, then lean forward and graze my teeth down the slope of her neck. “Did you bring any toys with you?”
“No. I didn’t think this was ever a possibility, especially before the trip. I wasn’t planning on using a vibrator while you slept four feet away from me.”
“That’s a shame. It sounds hot.” I nip at her ear. “If you can’t finish, I’ll still get to spend time with my head between your legs, and you’re never going to hear me complain about that. Arms up, Lola. I want to take off this shirt so I can see more of you.”
She sits up, our mouths inches apart. Her arms lift and I bring the large T-shirt over her head, tossing it into a forgotten corner of the room. My eyes stay locked on hers, waiting until she lowers her chin in silent approval before I look at her the way Iwantto look at her. The way I’ve dreamed about looking at her.
Permission granted, I drop my gaze to her throat and watch her play with the silver pendant on her necklace. It’s a bumblebee, the piece of jewelry a gift from her dad on her eighteenth birthday.
There’s a second or two where I forget to breathe, where my face turns blue because of the lack of oxygen getting to my lungs. I inhale sharply when I get to her chest, nearly choking on air.
Nothing—not a goddamn thing—in life prepared me for seeing the woman I’ve loved for months practically naked under me. Writhing and wiggling, her pupils wide. Chest rising and falling, as if she’s been sprinting for miles, and cheeks impossibly red. She releases the sheets from her grasp, her fingers moving to my hair and pulling hard.
It’s like she’s trying to control herself. Trying to hold back and not go too fast, too soon. I know I told her I want to savor her, but seeing how perfect she is makes it really difficult to rememberwhy.
“Patrick,” she whispers.
I’ve never heard my name sound so beautiful. I want to record the two syllables so I can play it on a continuous loop every day. It’s just on the edge of begging, and I’ve never seen Lola—independent, fierce, determined Lola—so needy for something before.
It ignites me. It makes me tilt my hips into hers so she can feel how hard I am and how badly I want her. When she arches her body into mine, it’s encouragement, adding fuel to the fire.
“Can I try?” I ask again.
I cup her bare breast and run my thumb over her nipple. Relish in her quiet sigh and how touching her is even better without any clothes. Her skin is smooth and warm, with tan lines and freckles. I smell the faint trace of sunscreen and a hint of flowers.
I decide right this very second that if a day comes when I know I only have two minutes left in this world, I’ll ask to be right here, touching her. It’s heaven.
She nods her assent and kisses me. “I’ll do my best,” she murmurs against my lips.
“You’re perfect. Lie back for me.”
Lola rests her head against the pillows. Her hair really does look like liquid sunshine, blonde strands scattered across the silk. I hover over her, my elbows on either side of her shoulders.
“Are you going to tell me what you like?” I whisper in her ear. I pull at the waistband of her shorts and snap the elastic against her hips. Her moan is low and long, a sound of pleasure from the back of her throat. “Or do I get to spend all night figuring it out for myself?”
“I like a lot of things,” Lola says. She rests her hand on her stomach, fingers drumming against her skin.
“You don’t sound too sure.”
“Because you’re making it impossible to think straight.”
Good.
I don’t care how long it takes. I’m going to be the first—and last—person to make her come. Whether that happens tonight, tomorrow, or in a month, I don’t care. I’m going to wear the damn badge with pride, knowing she’s wholly and completely mine.
My lips move to the top of her chest, then farther down. I take her breast in my mouth, tasting her, and her moan is louder than before. It echoes off the walls and rings in my ears.
I need to learn what else I can do to hear that sound.
“Found the first thing you like,” I say. My teeth bite down on the soft flesh around her hard nipple. I’m awarded a string of muttered words, my favorites beingfuckandyesandagain. “Let me guess. No one has bothered to pay attention to you before. Learned the little things and worshiped you like you deserve.”
“I guess not,” she says, gritty and rough. Her hands move to grip my shoulders then my arms, sharp nails leaving pink marks on my skin from where she’s trying to hold on. “More. I need more.”
I enjoy watching her come apart, and I like knowing she needs me. I think she’s always relied on me a little, and this is another moment where she’s trusting me, needing me, and I plan to deliver.
“What else do you need? What else do you like? Maybe if I put my hand here?” I place my palm on her thigh, my thumb playing with the hem of her pajama shorts. I thought they were cute before, but now I want to rip them off her body. “Do you like that?”
“I like that a lot.”
