Total pages in book: 89
Estimated words: 84195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 84195 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 421(@200wpm)___ 337(@250wpm)___ 281(@300wpm)
He spotted me in the crowd and motioned me over, then bent down and whispered in my ear, “I meant what I said. I expect someone to be naked when I get home.”
I shivered as something pure and emboldened arose inside me. It was now or never. “Maybe you should be naked too, on your hands and knees for me.”
When Skylar got my meaning, his eyes widened. “Holy crap, is that what you want?”
“Maybe…yeah.” I faltered briefly before finding my nerve again. “I just…yes, it’s what I want.”
He kissed me again, and the crowd went wild.
“Thanks a lot,” he said as he drew back. “Now I’ll have a boner for the rest of my shift.”
“Sorry, not sorry.” I pecked his lips. “See you later.”
29
Skylar
I was excited to get home to Clark.
That should have made more warning bells go off in my brain, but they either weren’t there or I was doing a good job ignoring them. I told myself it was because—well, because sex. Clark wanted to fuck, and I definitely wanted to fuck, and God, I was going slightly crazy thinking about Clark inside me.
Maybe it was strange to think of it this way, but I was really proud of him for tonight. Not just for coming to the bar on his own, but for telling me what he wanted. That was a big step for him and one he deserved to take.
My shift ended a little before closing time. I cleaned up and changed into pants and a tee before jumping into my car, an unmistakable nervousness flittering through my veins.
Holy fuck.
I was nervous.
To have sex.
I’d never been nervous about sex in my whole life, not even the first time. I’d known I wanted it, and while it hadn’t been the best, because it had been his first time too, it had been exciting and new and everything I’d wanted it to be.
But this was Clark. My Clark. And that made it unique. That made it special and scary and nerve-racking. What in the hell was he doing to me?
I hurried home—to Clark’s place. When I arrived, it was dark other than the light he always left on for me. My legs felt ridiculously weak as I made my way to his room, expecting to see a very primed and ready Clark there, but when I stepped inside… The soft glow of his lamp illuminated him, and he was naked like we’d said, partially propped up by the pillow, but it was clear he’d fallen asleep waiting for me. He still had his glasses on. His head was tilted slightly to the side, his lips parted just a bit.
I moved closer and closer, this strange fullness in my chest. My heart sped up, then did this weird stumbling thing as I looked at him, hand on his belly, flaccid cock resting on his thigh, and…God, I liked coming home to this. To him. The truth of that ran laps around my brain, the urge to bolt intensifying, but a stronger emotion kept me there. One that wanted me to climb in bed with him, wrap myself around him, and ask him not to hurt me, not to be one of those guys like Mom always ended up with, who threw her away, but then, like I’d said, she hadn’t always been perfect either, and what if I was like her? What if I somehow hurt Clark too?
I shook those thoughts from my head.
My eyes flickered to the nightstand, snagging on the condom and bottle of lube waiting for us. It made me smile because it was extremely him, the two items lined up and handy. He was so damn cute, so silly and amazing and dorky, and I liked it so, so much. Way more than I should. That thought flashed through my head much too often, and I always shook it off, making sure to outwardly stress we were friends and just screwing around, while inside a quiet little voice wanted to ask him to keep me.
Yeah, my thoughts were so fucked up tonight. I needed to chill the hell out.
I didn’t want to wake him, so I quietly stripped out of my clothes and put them in the laundry basket. Even though he’d teased me about socks earlier, I was much better at making sure I cleaned up after myself.
Clark didn’t move when I slipped his glasses off and set them down, when I clicked off the light and climbed into bed beside him. Unfortunately, my dick was half-hard and my eyes fully open. I turned down the lighting on my phone so it wouldn’t be too bright, and pulled up the ad I’d run into before. My pulse kicked up that it was still there.
For the hundredth time, I read it, wanted it. It was stupid. I had zero experience. There were probably people way more qualified than me—and, okay, I might have had a slight fear of rejection when I really cared about something.