Kiss and Don't Tell(85)

Good God, I wrote cock. I bury my head in my mattress, my cheeks burning from embarrassment. But then he texts back.

Pacey: And then?

Winnie: With my index finger, trace your length to the very tip and then pull away again.

Pacey: Goddamn it, I’m hard. Right now, fucking hard. I want your finger on my cock, Winnie. Your whole goddamn hand. Your mouth.

He’s so dirty. I love it. I shift to my side as I feel a dull pulse start to throb between my legs. I’m just as turned on from the mere thought of doing something so salacious to Pacey and him letting me.

Winnie: I would make circles up your abs again, but this time, I would smooth my leg over your legs while doing it, drawing closer to your body so you could feel how hard my nipples were.

Pacey: Would you be naked?

Winnie: No, but at your request, I’d take off my shirt.

Pacey: I would DEMAND you take off your shirt.

Winnie: I wouldn’t want to disappoint you, so I’d sit up, look you in the eyes, and take off my shirt, exposing my bare tits to you. I would revel in the way you took me all in.

Because I’m feeling extra spicy and because Pacey instills such bold confidence in me, I turn on my nightstand light, flip my phone to camera mode and drag down my tank top so my breasts are almost entirely exposed, leaving just my nipples covered. Leaving my face out of the picture, I send it to him.

Pacey: Holy fuck . . . Winnie.

Winnie: I’d climb on top of your legs, loving the way you reach out and slowly roll my nipple between your fingers, and I’d pull your cock out to rest it on your stomach.

Pacey: I’m so goddamn hard. It’s painful.

Winnie: Bracing my hands on either side of your hips, I’d lower my head, and starting at the base of your cock, I’d drag my tongue up your length until I reached the tip. Then I would suck on the head.

Pacey: Winnie . . .

Winnie: Jesus, Pacey, I’m so turned on right now. I’m throbbing.

Pacey: Are you touching yourself? Like, I’m gripping my cock right now.

Winnie: No. But I need the relief. What would you do to ease the ache between my legs?

Pacey: Why don’t you come here and find out?

Winnie: Why don’t you tell me?

Pacey: I’d start with demanding you strip for me. And then stand in front of me, naked, so I can see just how goddamn sexy you are. You’d twirl for me, and then I’d spread you across the bed.

Winnie: Would you force me down?

Pacey: Only because you let me.

Winnie: Would you spread my legs?

Pacey: I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.

Winnie: Would you want to taste me on your tongue?

Pacey: Fuck.

Pacey: Yes.

Pacey: Your pussy would be my goddamn feast.

I moan out loud as my hand inches down to my pajama shorts. I don’t really know what I’m aiming for, but I just know I need something. A touch. Something to stop this terrible aching.

Winnie: Would you

God, this is embarrassing. I don’t even know if I can orgasm. How do I ask for something when—

Pacey: Would I what?

Winnie: Would you help me orgasm?

Now I feel stupid. I’m sure he’s ready to turn off his phone and bolt. I bet no other woman has ever asked him that because they don’t even know if they’ve orgasmed before.

He doesn’t respond right away, and because I’m way out of my comfort zone, I think about retracting that last text, but then my door opens and Pacey pushes through, shutting the door behind him.

Standing in the barely lit room, Pacey is wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts that prominently display how aroused he is. His chest rises and falls and his hair drapes over one eye as he stares me down. There’s no mistaking what he wants.

He wants me.

The image in front of me is carnal.

The man before me is everything I want. Everything I need.

I set my phone on the nightstand and sit up in bed, letting the comforter slide down my body, exposing the way my nipples are pebbled against my shirt.

“Stand up,” he says.

The deep, demanding tone of his voice has me lifting from the bed, ready to listen for his next direction.

“Take your shirt off.”

Adrenaline pumps through me and as I reach for the hem of my tank top, my hands shake. I grip the hemline tightly and, with one smooth pull, bring it up and over my head, allowing the fabric to slip out of my hand and drop to the floor. When I find the courage to look Pacey in the eyes, he doesn’t meet my gaze; instead, he’s dragging his hand over his mouth, taking in my chest.

“Shorts. Off. Now.”

I slip my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts and push them down. When they hit my ankles, I toe them away and stand in front of Pacey with nothing but my hair in two braids.

He deliberately gives me a once-over, starting with my legs, moving up my abdomen, to my breasts, and then connecting with my face. He takes a step forward and I feel a bout of chills roll up my spine.

Another step and my mouth goes dry.

One more and I watch him push down his shorts, as well. I take a deep breath and allow myself to take in the beautifully sculpted man in front of me. A powerful chest pushes and pulls with his deep, turned-on breaths. His abs contract as my eyes land on them, and his erection sits thick between his two powerful thighs, enticing me. Begging for my touch.