Blurred Lines Page 33

My hands are on either side of her, her hands are on my waist, and I pause as long as I can, drawing out the moment.

I slide forward, and oh fuck she’s perfect. Tight and wet and ready. I gasp a little as I slide further into her, her nails digging into me, pulling me forward as she moans something that might be please.

When I’m all the way inside her, I pause.

I savor.

Now, I wouldn’t say I rush this moment with other girls, but, let’s face it, once you’ve found your way home, it’s all sort of the downward rush toward glory, right? I tend to sort of get in, get out.

But it’s different with Parker. More important somehow, so I linger just for a moment, feeling her, watching her face, learning her breathing.

And then she says it again. Please.

I lean down, my lips finding hers as I pull out—all the way out—and then sink back in, all the way, our moans mingling together.

I keep the pace slow and steady, at least as slow as I’m able, wanting to make it good for her, because, like she said…three months.

But apparently her sex hiatus has her all revved up and ready to go, because her breathing quickens in no time, her hips urging me on at a faster pace.

I know she’s close and my hand slides down, and that’s all it takes; one brush of my finger against her, and she’s arching, crying out, and clenching around me all at the same time.

The sight and sound of her coming apart destroy me.

I manage only two more strokes before I, too, go over the edge, pulling the soft skin of her neck between my teeth, softly, as I shudder inside her.

I collapse.

She lets me, her arms falling from my back to lay limply out at her side, as I pant into her neck.

I don’t know how much time passes. Seconds? Minutes?


She turns her head so her mouth is near my ear. “So.”

“So,” I say in response, before pulling myself up just slightly to look into her face, praying I won’t see regret.

“That was…” She breaks off.

“Yeah.” I say. Because I get it. No words.

“So…again?” Her voice is hopeful, and I smile.

Yup, definitely should have done this a long time ago.

Chapter 13


Twenty minutes later, the sex haze has receded at least a little bit. Long enough for Ben and me to get back to doing what we do so well:

Arguing about the shower.

“I won the kissing bet fair and square,” I say, trying to pinch the arm that lays draped across my stomach. “The kiss sucked, so therefore I get first shower. Now, and every day for the next month. That was the deal. Now let me up.”

“No way. Yesterday’s kiss did not suck. I had you pinned between me and the kitchen wall and you liked it.”

“That was the second kiss,” I say, hoping he appreciates the patience in my tone. “Our deal was about the first kiss.”

“No, the second kiss was just round two of the first kiss. I could have sworn we agreed on this last night. You let me pick the TV channel, as was our agreement.”

“Well, now I’ve had time to reconsider it,” I say primly. “I’ve decided that I won.”

“Oh, you decided,” he says, lifting up on one arm slightly to stare down at me. “So that’s it?”

I pretend to think about this. Then, “Yup. Pretty much.”

His eyes narrow. “I made you come. Two times. You don’t get two orgasms and the first shower.”

I manage to lift his arm high enough to wiggle beneath it. “It’s because of those orgasms that I need the shower. I’m all…sticky.”

He lifts an eyebrow, then sits up naked, unabashed. “Oh, you want the logistics of the aftermath. I’ll show you the aftermath.”

He points toward the floor, and we both look down to the two used condoms.

Gross. So, so, so gross.

“Not it,” we say at the same time.

Then I’m darting toward the bathroom, squealing when I hear his No fucking way! followed by the sound of his feet hitting the floor.

I nearly have the door closed before his palm hits it, shoving it back open again, backing me into the bathroom.

“Be a gentleman, Olsen,” I say, even though I’m giggling.

“Be a lady, Blanton.”

We’re grinning at each other like fools, and I can’t figure out why I ever thought that this wouldn’t work. Sure, it had been weird for, like, a half second when he took my shirt off, but then it had been…good. No, it had been perfect.

And, best of all, it had been fun, and wasn’t that the entire point of sex?

He moves toward me and I take a step back, glancing behind me and realizing that there’s virtually no room between me and the tub.

When there’s nowhere else for me to go, he stops and leans toward me, then a little bit more, and then…

His hand snakes behind the curtain and he turns the water on.

“Tell me you’re turning that on for me,” I say as he stands upright again.

“Nope.” He jerks the shower curtain to one side. “I’m turning it on for us.”

“What? Oh…oh,” I say as his hands find my waist, lifting me up and into the tub. He follows me in, closing the curtain so it’s just us in our nakedness and steam.

“Clever,” I say, my voice catching a little as his hands move up over my sides.

“Yeah?” he leans down, his teeth softly tugging at my earlobe. “I thought this had a nice win-win appeal to it.”

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