Page 116 of 10 Rings I Hate About You
I had four orgasms last night. I think I’m better than okay.
MARC
Are you aware you say my name differently when I kiss that spot on your neck?
My breath caught.
MARC
I can still taste you on my tongue.
Holy shit.
Heat pooled low in my stomach, and suddenly I was back in his bed, his hands everywhere, letting him absolutely ruin me for any other man. Two sentences. The man had destroyed my higher brain function with only two sentences.
I stared at the screen, trying to form a response. Nothing came out. Not one single word. Not one syllable.
MARC
Is someone getting shy?
DELANEY
Or so turned on my brain short-circuited.
MARC
When you come over again, spend the whole night.
DELANEY
If I come over again will I get to fuck you?
MARC
That depends on whether you’re going to be a good girl for me.
MARC
Next time I’m going to take my time with you.
I made a sound somewhere between a whimper and a laugh and then slapped my free hand over my mouth.
The door to my apartment slammed open.
I shrieked. And threw my phone at the intruder. It skidded two feet across the floor and landed face up, screen still glowing.
Adele stood in the doorway, auburn hair perfect, coffee-less, chin up, shoulders squared, her eyes searching the apartment, already collecting data.
She took in my oversized T-shirt, my wild hair, and the phone on the floor, and her eyes went wide. “Tell. Me. Everything.”
“What the actual fuck? You can’t just break into my apartment.”
She picked up my phone, stormed into my kitchen, grabbed a coffee mug from the cabinet, and pointed dramatically at the door. “You gave me a key.”
“Foremergencies!”
“Thisisan emergency!”
