Page 51 of Strictly the Worst

“Carmichael,” I say, because I’ve noticed she relaxes more when I call her that.

“Yes?”

“How about kissing? Have you kissed anyone in two years?”

“You’re weirdly fixated with the two year thing,” she says. “And no. For the record, I haven’t kissed anybody either. Not the way you’re talking about anyway.”

“Is there another way?” I ask.

“I’ve kissed my daughter.”

Oh. Yeah. For a moment there, I forgot she had a kid.

“What about orgasms?” I ask her. She frowns up at me adorably.

“I’m not telling you that.”

“So yes, you’ve had orgasms.”

“Salinger…” It’s a growl and I love it.

“How often do you touch yourself?”

Her cheeks pink up.

“How can you be so fucking together about work and your kid and everything else, yet get embarrassed by orgasms?” I ask her. “They’re just sneezes to the power of eight.”

“What?” She looks at me, trying not to smile.

“Orgasms are like a powerful sneeze. Seriously. I read it somewhere.” I frown, thinking about it. “Though the ones I give are probably more like thirty times a sneeze.”

“Of course,” she says dryly.

I drop my shoes then take hers and let them fall to the sand, too, before taking her face in my hands. I drop my head until our brows are touching and she doesn’t pull away. Her skin is so fucking soft it’s making me even harder.

Her eyelashes flutter and then I start to throb.

Wait. Why are eyelashes making me hard? They’re just tiny hairs. I push the thought away, because right now my brain is between my legs.

“Carmichael,” I murmur. “I’m going to kiss you now. Unless you stop me.”

She doesn’t move. Just looks at me with those big, wide eyes. And I want them to be looking at me as I make her come.

It’s all I can think about. Nobody but her has made her come for two years.

That’s a long fucking time. An eternity. And yes, touching yourself is good. It fills a need. But coming with somebody else?

That’s heaven.

I want to give her that. I want to have it.

She tips her head up almost imperceptibly. But it’s enough for me to feel the warmth of her breath against my lips. Every part of me is tingling. But I resist the urge to close the gap between us.

I want her to do it.

I want her to want me. The same way I want her.

Her breath hitches. Her head tips back a little more.

---