Page 37 of French Martini

“Can’t wait to see you. Are we gonna be matching?”

I huff a laugh. “Absolutely not. We’ll complement each other though.”

“I already knew that, beautiful.”

I get his shirt open and can’t resist boldly running my hands down his soft, hairy chest, noticing how his nipples harden and pebble beneath my touch.

“Low,” he whispers.

“Yes?”

“I want to touch you so bad.”

I flick my gaze up, aware of my heating cheeks, but I don’t care. “Why don’t you?”

“I need to hear that you want me to.”

This is the part where I tap the brakes and put distance between us, but I don’t seem to be able to. “Do you think I don’t want it?”

“I’ll be honest, kitten, I have no idea what’s going on in that brilliant brain of yours.”

“A lot of things.”

“You can talk to me about any of it.”

I smile but shake my head. No, I can’t. I can’t even process all the emotions swirling around inside me. All I know for sure is I’d like to feel him in my mouth again. I’d like to kiss him again.

“Do you want to talk about Sam?”

The question is a cold bucket of water and I push his chest gently as I step back. “No.”

“That reaction is exactly why we should.”

“You don’t owe me an explanation.”

“No, but maybe I’m okay with giving you one. Can I ask why he bothers you?”

I narrow my eyes, crossing my arms over my chest. “He doesn’t. I don’t even know him.”

“Okay.” He peels out of the vest and the shirt, ignoring me as he removes the pants too until he’s standing before me in nothing but his briefs, his fancy clothes in a pile at his feet. “He picked out these silky briefs too. He said they were sexy. Do you think they’re sexy, Lowen?”

I twist my lips. He picked out underwear for him? “Are you fucking him?”

“No.” He takes a step toward me, but I move back, hitting the edge of his mattress. “We’re friends. He wanted me to look good.” He brushes his rough fingers over my cheek. “For you.”

“For me?”

Oakley nods. “He asked me to call you so he knew exactly what look to go for so I could impress you. We talked a lot about you, actually.”

“Is that so?”

Oakley gently pushes me until I sit down on the mattress, then with his knee, he separates my legs so he can stand between them. His cock is right in front of my face, swelling with each passing second.

“I want to tell you the truth.”

I nod, trying to resist sinking my teeth into him.

“We used to mess around.”

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