Page 13 of Please Open Me
She barely suppressed a whine, sinking her teeth into her lower lip. Her legs tensed, grinding against me with a need she couldn’t contain.
My grip on her ass tightened as I slipped my wandering hand into her shorts.
“I can’t even pick you up without you soaking your panties, and you think you’re in charge?” I snorted.
“It’s not like that,” she murmured.
“Then what’s it like? Because right now, I see you dripping wet and trying to boss me around.”
Her gaze fell from mine. I cupped her chin, squeezing her cheeks just enough to force her to look at me again. Guilt flickered across her face. I couldn’t tell if she felt bad for mouthing off—or just sorry I wasn’t letting her get away with it.
Without breaking eye contact, I reached behind her and slammed my palm against the fridge's ice dispenser. The machine groaned, then rattled. Cubes fell fast, clattering to the floor—one stayed behind, landing in my hand.
I lifted it slowly, letting her see it melt between my fingers.
Her lips twitched like she wanted to smile, but she wasn’t ready to let me win.
“Do you know what this is for?” I rasped.
“I read a novel where they shoved it up the girl’s ass,” Mason blurted, tripping over the words.
I almost forgot her books were more adventurous than I’d ever be. I was a little stunned, that was her first thought.
Wordlessly, I pressed the cube to her collarbone. Her head snapped back against the fridge with a softthunk.
“Fuck, ah—” She turned her face as I yanked the neckline of her tank top down and swirled the ice over her nipple.
Pearls of milk beaded at the tip. I leaned in and greedily lapped them away.
Her milk tasted a little like honey and vanilla. I enjoyed it, so I sucked harder.
“Jesus Christ,” she groaned, twining herfingers in my hair.
I pulled away with a satisfyingpopand grinned at her.
“Wrong man, baby girl.” I used the ice to cool the spot my mouth had just warmed.
She bucked against me like she didn’t care I could drop her any second. Maybe because she knew I’d rather die than hurt a single hair on her pretty little head.
I pushed up the hem of her tank top and ran the cube down her exposed stomach. A drop of water pooled in the divot of her abs and trickled lower, meandering along the stretch-marked skin from her pregnancy with Rosie.
God, I couldn’t wait to see her like that again. My brain waged a mental bet—when would she start to show? Six weeks? Eight? Would she tell anyone? Would she tellme?
Focus.
I brought the cube down to the waistband of her shorts.
“You gonna tell me what else they do with ice in your books?” I teased.
Mason beamed and shook her head.
Guess I’d have to figure it out.
Her entire body stiffened like she’d grabbed a live wire when I slipped what remained of the cube under the band of her shorts. Before she could recover, I pressed it to her clit, moving it back and forth.
I started slowly, testing the waters, waiting to hear our safeword:trust.
She didn’t say it.
