Page 54 of Sweeper
He stops his mental dance and eyes me curiously. “What is that supposed to mean?”
“Well, I’ve had five sexual partners in my life that never got it done. So, the odds of finding someone who can do it in my next relationship are probably not good. I’m currently one for six.”
Zander frowns as he stares back at me, his voice taking on a surprisingly honest tone when he says, “Well, it’s not much different than soccer. You probably just need practice.”
“What am I to practice exactly?” I ask, turning to him with confused eyes.
“Practice figuring out what you like. I mean…sex is a team effort, so communication is the first step.”
I frown at that thought. “You mean I should just tell the bloke what to do?”
Zander nods. “Basically.”
“But I don’t even know what to tell them. I didn’t tell you anything. You just figured it out.”
“That’s because I’m a Premier League sexpert.” He chuckles like a moron.
“Don’t be daft.”
“Okay, okay.” He wraps one of his muscly-soft arms around me, and my body instinctively tucks into him, inhaling his manly scent for comfort. “What if we keep this going between us?”
“What?” I peer at him out of the corner of my eye, hoping he’s not winding me up. “Keep having sex?”
“Yeah…I mean, we can keep it casual. But like, regular. That way, you can figure out what you like. Then someday, when I’ve provided you with enough sexual healing, you can direct a mere mortal’s cock to perform better for your pleasure.”
“I really hate that I told you all of this.” I groan and drop my face into my hands. “Your ego does not need it.”
“I love that you shared this with me.” He chuckles sweetly. “I’ve been a fumbling moron around you since the moment I arrived in London. It’s about damn time I got a leg-up for once.”
I roll my eyes and glance over at his stupidly cute face. He’s like the perfect combination of sexy and adorable. It’s really inconvenient.
“Just admit you like my cock, Ducky.” He leans in and waggles his dark eyebrows at me.
“Shut up.”
“And you like my mouth too.” He bites his lip again, and my center clenches with desire. Bloody hell, I do like his mouth.
Honestly, how am I not exhausted from those three orgasms already? It makes no sense.
“Basically, you like everything but the words that come out of my mouth.”
“That, I will agree to.” I give him a playful shrug.
“So, let’s keep this going. Let’s have some fun and get to know each other…biblically.”
“So would you call this friends with benefits?”
“Friends is a stretch when you just openly admitted you hate everything that comes out of my mouth.” He laughs good-naturedly. “But I know you like labels and rules, so let’s call us…neighbors with benefits.”
“Neighbors with benefits,” I repeat the silly label and feel myself nodding slowly. “What’s the worst that could happen?”
Zander
Marvin Gaye’s lyrics for “Let’s Get It On” boom through my portable speaker as I sit in my living room at eleven o’clock the next day. I’ve been up since eight and have already worked out and picked up my apartment. I even went to the post office and sent a Bethnal Green jersey to my mom.
And the best part is, I’ve done it allquietly.
Which makes me hope that when Daphney hears my not-so-subtle music through these paper-thin walls, she doesn’t stomp over here and rip my head off. I’m genuinely not trying to piss her off. Then again, she’s cute when she’s mad, so even if it does get her riled up, I’m still pulling in a W. No one ever said I was mature.
