Page 68 of Salvatore

Chapter Eighteen

Aedry

Making love with Salvatore is as amazing as it sounds. My problem is that as the weeks pass, it’s clear he’s doing most of the work. My movements are awkward at best, despite his insistence that I’m doing everything right. I find it hard to believe, especially knowing that the women he’s slept with were far more experienced than me.

Research nerd that I am, I start surfing the net for erotica sites. All in the name of science, of course.

I turn my head to the side as I stare at my computer screen, and a little more when I can’t figure out whose arm is where and what body parts I’m looking at. I want to be a better lover. When we’re alone, I often ask Sal what he likes and if what I’m doing is right. He’s patient and sweet, guiding me and teaching me what to do with his body. As much as I try, I often feel like a total klutz.

I want to be more for him and I am determined to match his past lovers in skill and endurance. So, here I am, dressed in flannel pajamas and hopping from one website to another as the deep cleansing mask on my face dries, trying to figure out what the hell I’m looking at so I can do it.

Maybe.

Good Lord, she’s flexible.

A knock on my door interrupts my very important study time. I think it’s the Thai food I ordered and skip to the door, giggling when my stomach gurgles in anticipation.

I open the door, leaving the securing chain in place. You can’t see much. But Sal sees enough.

His eyebrows slowly crawl up his forehead. “Aedry?” he asks.

My fingers pass along the hardened goo covering my face. Weeks. I’ve spent weeks dressing in sexy clothes and lingerie, only for him to find me like this.

He said he wouldn’t be able to see me tonight. He said?

“You on your way to clown school, baby?”

Oh, God. I flick the chain off and let him in, narrowing my eyes at the sight of his smirk. “This is a new look for you, hot,” he says, laughing.

I lunge at him when he lifts his phone and sets it on my face. “Don’t you dare,” I say, trying to snatch it out of his hands.

He keeps it up and away from me. “I need a new shot for my wallpaper,” he says. “This is perfect.”

He’s playing dirty. Well, so can I. I reach around him and tickle his side, that one spot on his body where he can’t handle being touched. I catch his phone when he drops it, backing away from him as he charges.

“Give me back my phone,” he says, his features growing playful.

“You can have it after I wash my face,” I say, running into the bathroom and flicking the lock.

I turn on the water and scrub my face at Mach 1 speed. I manage to take the mask off, but now my skin is blotchy from the cold water. I remove the towel from my head. My thick hair is still wet and the strands stick to my face.

“Adrianna,” Sal says, his voice rough. “You coming out?”

My hands fall to my sides. “Yes,” I mumble, humiliated that this is the condition he found me in.

I try fluffing out my hair, but all that does is partially push it away from my face. I give up, expecting to find him either in the kitchen or the living room.

Wrong again.

My stomach bottoms out when I find him sitting on my bed . . . next to my open laptop. I curse the day I adjusted my screen saver to kick in after ten minutes. I edge closer, dropping my hands against my sides when I realize I’m wringing them.

Sal scrolls his finger down to toggle, his eyes skimming over the images. It’s not until I’m almost to him that he glances up. “You’re watching porn,” he says slowly.

I freeze in place, hating the way my voice cracks. “It’s not porn. It’s, uh, erotica.”

He raises a thick brow. “It’s the same thing,” he says. “Erotica is just a term used by women, so they don’t feel guilty about watching porn.”

My entire body heats. “I was doing it for you?”

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