Page 94 of Blind Luck

“Have I cooled off enough yet?” She fished a couple of ice cubes out of the drink she’d asked him to bring and ran them over her nipples. They pebbled instantly, and a drop of water ran down her taut stomach. “Should I go sit in the refrigerator?”

“I thought you were inexperienced?”

“Okay, so I don’t have the first freaking clue what I’m doing in bed, but I spent two and a half months serving drinks in a strip club, so I learned a few tricks.”

She hopped off the bed and began swaying her hips to the music from the closing credits, then undid the zipper on her shorts and slid them seductively over her hips. Erin was a roller coaster of contradictions, but Rusty was a red-blooded man, and his last thread of self-control was rapidly unravelling. When she flicked her underwear across the room with a toe, he gave in and tossed her onto the bed.

“You’re sure you want this?”

Fuck it. She writhed underneath him as he ran his tongue over her clit.

“Yes!”

He hooked her legs over his arms, giving himself full access, and then he went to town on her, licking and sucking, taking his cues from every breathy little gasp and moan. He knew when she was ready to come. Her whole body tensed, and she pulled some of his hair out by the roots. He didn’t care.

And when she gasped his name, a little bit of love turned into something he hadn’t felt in years, not since those early days with Florence. An overwhelming desperation to know everything there was to know about this woman. To kiss her awake every morning and fall asleep with her in his arms every night. Gradually, that feeling had slipped away with Florence. Hockey hadn’t helped, but she’d changed too. Somewhere along the way, between her law degree and her frequent commutes to Bemidji, she’d changed. Replaced the fun side of herself with ambition.

Erin was wild, slightly kooky, the type of girl who’d set out on an adventure without a second thought, and he loved that about her. A girl who’d push her fears aside in search of pleasure, who’d try all the new things this world had to offer. The woman he wanted by his side.

He stretched out on the bed and kissed her. She kissed him back, then pulled away.

“I can taste myself. And I’m not sure if that’s gross or hot.”

“Hot. It’s definitely hot.”

“So when do I get to taste you?”

“Whenever you want.”

Rusty’s dick was so hard it ached.

“Can we get the sex part over with first?” She crinkled her nose. “That came out worse than I intended. I mean,I’m sure you’re fantastic, but I haven’t had the best experiences, so I have, like, this mental block, and…”

“I get it. It’s okay, I get it.”

And he did. He figured that if he were a vile old man with five wives, he wouldn’t put much effort into getting his rocks off—it would be the missionary position and nothing else. So instead of leaving Erin lying on the bed, he picked her up and carried her to the overstuffed couch in the corner of the room.

“What are you doing?” she whispered.

“It’ll be better this way. You’ll be in control.”

“Eeuw, don’t sit your sweaty ass on there. And what if something drips?”

Actually a good point. Nobody wanted to be sponging stains off of velvet in the middle of the night.

“I’ll get a sheet.”

After the couch was suitably protected, Rusty sat with Erin straddling him and rolled on a condom. She looked down dubiously.

“Huh. It’s bigger than I thought it would be.”

“I’m going to take that as a compliment.”

“Why do men think bigger is always better? Wouldn’t smaller be more comfortable?”

“I never really thought about it that way.”

“See, I should go find a man with one of those giant monster trucks because he’d definitely be small enough to handle.”

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