Page 101 of Fifty First Times (Sharing You 0.40)
It shook me—she shook me.
And she humbled me with this gift, because this was a gift.
My hands slid up her soft legs, to her curvy hips, and my
mouth turned into a damn heat-seeking missile. I kissed her there, reveling in the way she jerked and her hands clenched tighter. I tasted her and she was the fucking best thing I’d ever tasted. I could spend a lifetime on my knees before her and it wouldn’t be enough.
I eased her down so she was sitting on the edge of the bed and it wasn’t long before she fell back, her hips moving in a slow, sinuous motion that would linger with me long after tonight was done.
All of this was to get her out of my system, but deep down, I knew I’d be fucked if I really believed this would work, because now her taste, her scent, and her breathy moans would forever be imbedded in my system, smacked with a label “mine” and filed away.
Her head kicked back, my name a cry on her lips as she came, and I stayed there, between her legs, my head resting on her thigh, my eyes squeezed shut.
I was rattled.
And I was ready. My body throbbed almost painfully, I drew in a deep breath, but it didn’t help. I tried to think about something gross—turtles screwing, because seriously, there was nothing hot about that, but I was still on the edge and I hadn’t even taken my shorts off.
“Ollie?” she whispered.
Opening my eyes, I drew in another breath. I needed to keep it together. I also needed to get off my knees and stop using her thigh as a damn pillow, because that might be weird for her at this point.
I stood, knees locked and eyes wide. “Damn, Brit . . .”
She bit down on her lip, watching me through thick lashes. Lying like that before me . . . ?
“I could get used to seeing you like this,” I said before I could stop myself.
Her cheeks flushed. “For real?”
The slight rise in her voice, the cloud of disbelief that passed across her features, tugged at something in my chest. “Yeah, for real.”
She rose up on her elbows, and for the first time in my life, I didn’t have a problem keeping my eyes on her face. “That doesn’t sound like you.”
“I’m not me when I’m around you.” Yeah, that made absolutely no sense. “I mean, maybe I am me when I’m around you.”
A smile pulled at her lips. “Oliver Ryan,” she said, and holy Christ cookies, I almost came hearing her same my full name. “I think you might actually like me.”
“I do.”
Surprise flickered across her face. A moment passed. “I like you too,” she whispered. “I like you a lot.”
There was a strange swelling in my chest. As I stared into those warm eyes, I knew suddenly this wasn’t just a challenge. Nothing about being her with her was a simple as getting in and getting off. There was no getting her out of my system. This wasn’t that. My heart rate kicked into cardiac territory. Was I having a heart attack? I had no idea what to do with the feeling.
I froze at the unexpected feeling in my chest.
“Ollie,” she breathed, her head cocked to the side. “You still with me?”
“Yeah.” My voice was gruff, thick.
Brit sat up, her gaze traveling down my stomach. Muscles tensed under her gaze. She reached for the button on my shorts, flicked them open with a confidence I’d always admired. She concentrated on the task, easing the zipper down.
Her eyes popped to mine. “You’re commando?”
I grinned, because I was beyond talking at this point.
She laughed softly as she gripped the sides of my shorts. “I should’ve guessed as much. You know.” She eased my pants down, and I stepped out of them. As she checked me out, her mouth opening slightly, she appeared to lose her train of thought. “Wow.”
Male pride pecked at me.
