Page 86 of One Week Hating You
“He sounds like a narcissistic ass.”
I think about Peter and his vast assortment of designer suits and ties, his shoe collection, his extensive Instagram feed, his morning hair routine, and how he likes to take over a conversation and be the center of attention. It never occurred to me before, but yes, the man is kind of a narcissist.
“You know how I love Pringles?” I say. “Did you know I’ve never tried any of the other flavors? I only eat original. Iamboring.”
“Really?” he says. “Well, nowthat’s a crime.”
We sit in silence for a beat, my feet resting on his abs, tangled in his hands. “But seriously, you’re not boring, Freckles. You’re one of the coolest people I know.”
I smile up at him. “So are you.”
He plays with my toes again and threatens to tickle me with a wicked grin.
“Don’t you dare,” I warn. “There’ll be a lot of splashing if you do.”
And what does he do? He tickles me again, of course. I squirm and thrash and there’s water everywhere. He finally stops and I settle down. He slides to me and pulls me to him. He presses his warm wet hands against my cheeks and draws my mouth to his. I get lost in his kiss. I wonder if I could ever tire of it. Surely… eventually. I know I’ll never find out because before long, I’ll be gone and heading back to my other life, a life I chose ten years ago when I decided to leave all the bad memories behind me.
He pulls me on top of him, and I glide easily against the length of him. I slide my hands all over him, over the curves and ridges of his beautiful body. I wrap my hand around his hard-on, and between his legs. He throws his head back and moans softly. I love bringing him pleasure – it arouses me so much. Feeling him under the palm of my hand makes me want him again, inside me.
I pull myself over him and reach for his mouth. We get lost in another kiss, and I guide him inside me again. At first, we’re slow and soft, but before long, we go at it harder, faster. I feel another climax coming as he hits my sweet spot over and over again. The water splashes all around us, making a mess. “We’ll need a lot of towels,” I mumble into his mouth.
He grabs my hips and goes harder, knowing that I’m almost there – I marvel at how our bodies seem so in sync. I pull my mouth from his as I reach my climax. I throw my head back and get lost in the amazing sensation.
God, the man is so good at this.
Too good.
