Page 46 of Forget Me Twice

The ink on my thighs are visible but they don’t hold the same meaning.

Feeling him pause, I cringe, and silently hope I wasn’t too obvious with my rejection. Poor guy. It’s not a move that anyone wants a hook-up to pull, especially when things are heating up.

I just…don’t kiss.

Anyone.

Ever.

Sex? Sex for me is transactional, and I know that makes me a selfish lover. I can’t help that it’s never just been about getting each other off. The real goal has always been those precious moments when I am no longer trapped by the nonsense in my head.

Kissingthough? Some leftover part of my younger self still believes in the sanctity of that special kind of theater—the way our mouths intimate everything we’re feeling without the need for actual words. The problem, of course, is that I’m in possession of a heart that’s a nothing but barren, emotional wasteland, and I just can’t bring myself to let my lips lie.

So I hold on firmly to the fairytale.

Leo drops his forehead against my collarbone in defeat, giving my ass another solemn squeeze. He’s resigning himself to us not taking this any further. But he’s wrong. So wrong. I’m just not letting him pasttheselips.

Dropping my hands down between us, I get to work on his belt and jeans, hoping to distract him from looking too closely at my kissing hang-up. With his neck now free and clear, I give it a nice long slow, lick followed by a bite to his earlobe.

I’m rewarded with a hoarse groan and another, more forceful, squeeze.

Thatta boy.

Rocking back to give myself more space to play, I attempt to lock eyes with him. I want to see what his face does as I skip the rest of the preamble and go straight to pulling his dick out.

It’s quite comical really—and I watch in amusement as his heavy-lidded expression tap dances between proud, athletic stoicism and horny, teenaged delight.

I’m sure my palm is still cold from the condensation of my cocktail glass, but it doesn’t seem to matter any. His cock is plenty hot and beautifully hard, jerking once as I grip it in my hand.

My pussy and I are pleased to find we were not wrong in our forecast of his proportions.

“Sabine,” he croaks, brown eyes rolling back as I squeeze tightly, giving him a few firm pumps with my fist. When my thumb brushes over the head, finding the beginning drops of pre-cum, I gather what I can, spreading the moisture down the large vein on his shaft during my next few passes.

More often than not, I prefer the freedom of submission. Surrender is the fastest route to the peace and quiet I crave, after all. But when the mood strikes, I can and do enjoy being the one in the driver’s seat. Leaning over, I squeeze again and snarl against his ear, “Eyes up here, Baker.”

With obvious effort, he slides his gaze back to mine.

Better.

Flashing him my canines in a wide smile, I rise up to my knees. With one hand, I line his cock up with my entrance, teasing it through the slickness already there and waiting. The hussy never takes much sweet talking. She’s always good to go.

Leo’s eyes flash as he finds a brief moment of clarity before he’s lost beneath the waves of lust. “Condom,” he forces out, trying his hardest to maintain eye contact with me andnotlook down at where my soaking wet pussy is pressing against his swollen, leaking glans.

I’m a terrible fucking person. The thrill of going bareback with a stranger is just too fucking good to pass up. It’s pretty much an addiction at this point. “I’m clean,” I grit back, over the music.

Jax knows I have no sense of self preservation and makes me get tested bi-weekly. Sebastian also made sure a long time ago that his precious asset could never be compromised by something sopedestrianas pregnancy.

But I’m not too far gone to remember it’s never just a question ofmyconsent. So I hover, waiting, but still sending up desperate, slutty prayers to Eros and Aphrodite and Cupid and Freyr that he won’t insist on stopping right now so that he can wrap it up.

He tips his chin down, never breaking eye contact, giving me the green light to proceed.

Thank all the gods and goddesses.

I drop down hard and fast, taking him all the way to the root. The sharp initial pinch takes my breath. The stretch and burn that follows ismagnificent.

I mentally pat myself on the back for taking a chance on this well-kept, well-endowed footballer.

“Fuck,”he barks. “Winters,fuck.”A single bead of sweat skates down his temple as I start to move. His hands never venture any further north, but his thumbs begin to press into my lower waist; his equally large fingers dig into my ass.

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