Page 37 of From Fling to Ring

Or just say thank you?

Look, I know I’m not bad-looking, and on a good hair day and when my skin is clear, I might even be slightly on the pretty side. Sometimes. Certainly not always.

But hey, if Tyler wants to think I’m beautiful, he’s damn well welcome to.

“Thank you,” I say quietly.

By now, the elevator doors have opened behind us and I can see in the mirror that we can walk directly into Tyler’s apartment. But he still doesn’t let me go.

“Hey, don’t we need to get off this thing? You know, before the doors close on us and take us back downstairs?”

“They won’t. Not until I swipe my card.”

That’s some deluxe shit.

He finally releases me and takes my hand. “C’mon. Let’s go.”

I’m relieved to look away from my reflection and follow him into his apartment. My jaw drops at the floor-to-ceiling windows and view of the Golden Gate bridge and the hills behind it.

“Oh. My. God.”

“You like it?” he asks.

“Like it? I may never leave. Especially since it doesn’t smell like dirty jock socks.”

Of course it doesn’t. A playboy, hotshot has to have a nice home. Girls won’t stick around for a pigsty. Every guy knows this, at least anyone who wants to get laid. My friend Gilly once went home with a guy whose place turned out to be so bad she made up an excuse to leave and never saw him again.

Tyler chuckles. “Yup. Just got rid of the dirty sock smell yesterday.”

I peer up at him. “That was decent of you. Have you been happy here?”

I mean, how could he not be?

“Are you kidding? I love it. I didn’t even need to look at anything else when I saw this. I signed on the dotted line as fast as I could and made this baby mine. Like I’m about to make you mine.”

He sweeps me into his arms where I’m standing, marveling at the view, and buries his lips in the crook of my neck. I gasp as an unexpected shiver jolts me.

What is it about this guy?

Other than he’s a big swinging dick who women need to be wary of?

Do as I say, not as I do.

He leads me to the sofa, where he shimmies my jeans down my hips and flings off my panties. He releases a barely-audible groan when I part my legs for him, and immediately runs a finger through my pussy, spreading the moisture that started collecting the moment he first kissed me in the car.

Sliding one finger inside me, he makes a ‘come here’ motion, tickling a spot that, until this moment, I doubted actually existed.

This is what players do, right? They get lots of practice and know exactly what women like.

God, I’ve got to stop with this obsession.

I squirm under him, grinding my hips into his hand, and he slides another finger inside me. The sensation grows exponentially more intense.

“Oh God, Tyler. Yes, just like that,” I mumble, my breath hard and rasping.

He breaks into a crooked little smile, one hundred percent focused on fucking me with his fingers. When I begin to tremble, he speeds up, and an orgasm hits me, hard.

“Look at baby coming. So fucking hot,” he growls.

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