Page 69 of Harper's Holiday Romance
“No.” It was the last thing I wanted. “Take me back to your room, please,” I begged.
There was only one thing on my mind and it wasn’t the Thai restaurant we were supposed to attend; that could wait.
12
When I initially pictured my holiday to Mexico it was a duller experience than what I found myself enjoying. I scheduled an adequate amount of time for the necessities like swimming in the pool, drinking cocktails, listening to music, gossiping with the girls, and of course scrolling social media.
I didn’t schedulesex.
In my dreams, maybe.
I was fully conscious as I watched Julia’s head roll from left to right. I recoiled at every flick, every suck, every bit of pressure applied to the perfect—
“Spot,”
“What?” Julia said against my clit.
“Nothing.”
Fuck me. The woman must’ve studied the female orgasm. She had to have a degree, or a doctorate, or something educational to do with female anatomy because—
“My God,” I moaned.
Julia pointed to the wide-open balcony door and reached up and placed her hand over my mouth whilst somehow managing to sustain the perfect amount of pressure. I gripped the bedsheets with one hand and Julia’s hair with the other, pressing her face to my vagina as I came close to climax.
But she didn’t allow that.
She suddenly jumped up from her downward dog position. The cool air sweeping over my throbbing clitoris.
“Wait, what?” I was physically panting. My whole body was perspiring. My vagina felt like a volcano about to erupt, and Julia got up to—close the balcony door.
“Seriously?” I cried out.
“Good things come to those who wait.” Julia smirked. She wiped at her lips; she was completely naked and took several long gulps of water from the minibar before returning to my favoured position.
“I wanted you to be able to express yourself without listening ears.” She grinned. “I’d like to make you cum now if that’s okay.”
“Yes, please.”
Six hours later
Did I expect to find myself sprawled out on a luxury queen-sized bed with an extremely attractive soon to be fully qualified neurosurgeon buried between my legs for the second time that night?
No.
Did I enjoy it?
Absolutely.
Is this what it felt like when Sarah used to obsess over Arizona Robbins? Like everyone ever, I had dabbled with my fair share ofGrey’s Anatomyepisodes, but the commitment to watch all twenty-plus seasons was greater than birthing a child and successfully guiding it to the age of eighteen. Instead, I allowed Sarah to updateme on the most pivotal moments whenever she felt the need, which was all the time.
Was Arizona a neurosurgeon? Or was that Callie? Or neither?
I was deflecting.
Julia crawled her way up my body until her face lay on the pillow beside me.
“Hi.” She smirked.
