The Deal(90)

I suddenly remember how Allie confessed that she had to “train” Sean to do this because he used to go all motorboat on her clit from the word go. But Garrett needs no training. He allows my pleasure to build, going slow and making me crazy, making me beg.

“Please,” I whimper when the tempo once again becomes excruciatingly leisurely. “More.”

He raises his head, and I’m pretty sure I’ve never glimpsed anything sexier than the sight of his glossy lips and burning gray eyes. “Do you think you can come like this?”

I surprise myself by nodding. I don’t think I’m lying, though. I’m wound up so tight I’m like a cartoon bomb about to detonate.

With a low growl of approval, he leans down and wraps his lips around my clit. He sucks hard, simultaneously pushing one finger inside me, and I go off like a rocket launcher.

The orgasm is a thousand times more intense than the orgasms I’ve given myself, maybe because my body knows I wasn’t the one who made it happen. Garrett did this. Garrett turned my limbs to jelly and sent this wave of sweet, pulsing satisfaction racing through me.

When the incredible sensations finally abate, they leave behind a warm rush of peace and a strangely bittersweet feeling. What happens next is something I’ve only seen happen in movies and it embarrasses the crap out of me.

I start to cry.

In a heartbeat, Garrett climbs up my body and searches my face in concern. “What’s wrong?” His expression goes stricken. “Oh shit. Did I hurt you?”

I shake my head and blink through the onslaught of tears. “I’m…crying…because…” I breathe deeply. “Because I’m happy.”

His features relax, and now he looks like he’s trying not to laugh. His jaw twitches as he meets my eyes. “Say it,” he orders.

“Say what?” I use the corner of his blanket to wipe the moisture staining my cheeks.

“Say Garrett Graham, you are a sex god. You have achieved what no other man ever has. You—”

I punch him in the shoulder. “Oh my God, you’re such a jerk. I will never, ever say those words.”

“Sure you will.” He smirks at me. “Once I’m through with you, you’ll be shouting those words out from the rooftops.”

“You know what I think?”

“Women aren’t supposed to think, Wellsy. That’s why your brains are smaller. Science proves it.”

I slug him again, and a howl of laughter flies out of his mouth. “Jeez. I’m kidding. You know I don’t actually believe that. I worship at the shrine of womanhood.” He dons a solemn face. “Okay, tell me what you think.”

“I think it’s time I shut you up.”

He snickers. “Yeah? How do you plan on—” He hisses when I cup his package and give it a hearty squeeze. “You’re evil.”

“And you’re a cocky jerk, so I guess we both just have to deal.”

“Aw, thanks for noticing how cocky I am.” He smiles innocently, but there’s nothing innocent about the way he thrusts his erection into my hand.

Suddenly I don’t feel like teasing him anymore. I just want to see him come apart. I haven’t stopped thinking about the way he looked last night when he…

My sex clenches at the memory.

I tackle his belt buckle, and this time, he lets me undo it. In fact, he falls onto his back and lets me do whatever the heck I want.

I undress him as if I’m unwrapping a shiny gift, and once I have him naked, I take a moment to admire my prize. His body is long and sleek, boasting a golden skin tone instead of the pasty white you see on so many of the guys at Briar. I run my fingers over his rock-hard abs, smiling when his muscles quiver beneath my touch. Then I trace the tattoo on his left arm and ask, “Why flames?”

He shrugs. “I like fire. And I think flames look cool.”

The response amuses me, but it also impresses me. “Wow. I was expecting to hear about the bullshit meaning behind it. I swear, every time you ask someone about their tattoo, they tell you it means “courage” in Taiwanese or something, when we both know it probably means “potato” or “shoe” or “stupidly intoxicated.” Or they give you a whole spiel about how they hit rock bottom x many years ago but worked their way through it and this is why they have a phoenix rising from the ashes tattooed on their back.”

Garrett laughs before going serious. “I guess this isn’t the time to tell you about the tribal tattoo on my shin. It means eternal optimist.”