Page 39 of Audiophile

I’m so screwed. No matter what I bargained for, it won’t be enough.

Chapter fifteen

Petra

Reed sets off sparksin all the best places, and I’m still trembling when we reach the bed. “Reed, that lift was swoon worthy, but can you get me a towel?”

Reed chuckles and sets me down. “I wanted to dry you off with my mouth.”

“Oh. Was that a term of the agreement?” I can’t remember. My brain is still giddy and jumbled. I was desperate for an orgasm and would have agreed to anything.

“Gray area.” His dimple deepens, smug and amused. “You told me to shut up and get you off.”

“I did?” I laugh alongside him. I don’t know if it’s Reed or the orgasm, but I’m relaxed. Carefree. “You’re soaked! I’m cold just looking at you.”

Reed whips off his shirt as he walks away, and the wet splatter of it against the bathroom floor echoes while he produces a towel for each of us. I clutch it, stock-still, as Reed pulls off the rest of his clothes.

“Reed!” I squeak.

“It’s fair, since I’ve seen you naked.” He pulls out a pair of sweatpants as I swallow the overwhelming urge to lick my way down his spine. He was attractive before, but his clothes hid the gorgeous, stocky build he has underneath.

“Do you play rugby?” I wonder as I drink him in.

“I did, just on a rec team, until a few years ago,” he says with a laugh, and doesn’t bother with a shirt. “How’d you guess?”

I can’t exactly admit to my social media feeding me videos of juicy rugby players. “Do you miss it?”

“Nice deflection, rubber girl.” I’ve been too busy staring at his ass to dry myself off, and he notices, judging by the smirk climbing up one side of his face. God, thatdimple.“Enjoy what you see, baby?”

Chagrined, I laugh at myself while he wraps me in a towel and pulls me into his arms.

“Are you happy?” he asks, cupping my warm face. “Or having another nervous giggle fit?”

My face flames further. “Both. I haven’t done this in a while. Don’t expect experience or confidence from me, okay?”

He pulls back to search my face. “What are you talking about?”

“Your blow job.”

He frowns. “That wasn’t the bargain. I want my hands on you a second time.”

Jesus. Who needs a heater with this man around? But his hard length against my hip is impossible to ignore. “I thought you’d need—”

“What I need isn’t your responsibility to handle, especially if you’re stressed about it.” My bruised ego must show on my face, because his voice softens. “You let me in, Pet. You let me see you, touch you, and that was a leap forward. I meant it when I said I’m not trying to sleep with you. Am I open to it?Abso-fucking-lutely.But I don’t want it if you’re apprehensive.”

His words make sense, but the rejection stings. “I want to repay you.”

“I appreciate that.” Reed rubs my back over the towel. “But sex isn’t a transaction—at least, you’re a great reminder that it shouldn’t be. I don’t want you to be hesitant to try something because you’re expected to reciprocate.”

It’s the opposite of what all prior sexual encounters required of me. My family and church youth groups refused to talk about sex, except that it was forbidden outside of marriage. It left me unprepared for the pressures of relationships. Teenage boys,college guys: both had wild appetites that I’d been ill-equipped to deny.

Reed tugs me firmly against his chest. “You have power here. Everything is your choice.” I’m still wet, dripping water down his bare chest, but he doesn’t complain. His skin on my skin calms my nerves.

“I’m sorry,” I whisper.

“No, I’m sorry. If I pushed too hard—”

“You didn’t. I wouldn’t take it back for anything.” I place a tender kiss on his jaw. “Thank you.”

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