Page 24 of College Boy

“That’s just pillow talk,” she promised, hoping against hope it was anything but.

“You’re so tough,” Mitch teased, peppering her sweaty forehead with butterfly kisses that seemed to chip away at her stone cold resolve to keep things temporary, one by one. “We’ll see how tough you are when I’m through with you.”

“That sounds like a threat,” she teased, though, honestly? She’d never heard anything quite so thrilling in all her days.

“Only if you’re afraid of having the best damn week of your life,” Mitch muttered in reply, eager words bathing her face in his warm, sweet breath.

“Petrified,” she said, only half-joking. Mitch tugged her even tighter, as if knowing the feeling all too well...

Chapter Fourteen

Mitch

“So youdosleep, after all.”

Mitch stood in the doorway of a sprawling bedroom, looking all the bigger for its downsized, stripped away décor. White walls, that big bed, one stylish bureau, black and white framed wall art and, well ... not much else. Less is more, anyone?

“After nine straight orgasms?” she teased, lying flat on her belly and peering across the room at him with a thick, leering smile beneath dewy, half-lidded eyes. “How could I not?”

“Only nine?” he teased, padding closer on his big, bare feet and wriggling the fancy blue bottle of lavender lemonade seltzer he’d found in the fridge in one hand. “I thought I counted at least ten.”

She chuckled, tremors of laughter oozing through her soft, flawless body as he admired its ripe, raw nakedness as if he hadn’t just fingered her senseless only hours before. “Okay, okay,” she eased herself onto one side, taking the bottle as he handed it to her as if they’d done this a million times before. “A few of them might have doubled up on each other but, maybe this time, we can make it to an even dozen?”

Mitch eased onto the bed beside her, hungry all over again. “A dozen doesn’t really sound like an even number to me,” he insisted, admiring the soft, pink peaks of her nipples and the gentle crest of her soft, feminine belly. “Maybe we can shoot for something a little easier to count, like ... twenty?”

She chuckled heartily, the lip of the blue bottle mere centimeters from her own. “Sounds pretty ambitious for a College Boy,” she teased before sipping greedily of the fancy-shmancy seltzer. “Besides, relax. It’s not a competition.”

“With you? Like this?” He wriggled closer, taking the seltzer back and sipping one last time before setting it on the uncluttered nightstand. “Fat chance.”

“I meant, you already brought me to my personal best tonight, no need to shoot for more.”

“Nine?” Mitch could hardly believe his ears. “Nine times is your personal best? Weren’t you married, girl? For years, I mean?”

Emma chuckled, eyes looking sad despite the forced chuff of late-night laughter. “Climaxing isn’t just about what someone who’s supposed to know your body does to it,” she explained, their eyes meeting in the austere bedroom’s dim light. “It’s about how excited you are about the person you’re going to bed with, you know?”

“Hell,” he murmured, inching closer as the bed jostled beneath their combined weight. “I was always just excited to get laid, let alone who with.”

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