Page 19 of My Brother's Roommate (Frisky Business 2)
Prompting him, I say, “So, you like sex, but . . .”
“But it usually takes me a long time to come. I get anxious sometimes. About a lot of things, but mostly sex.”
Slowly, I nod, weighing his words. “Well, lasting a long time doesn’t sound like a bad thing. Most guys seem to have the opposite problem.”
“And certain things just don’t work for me.”
“Like what?”
Part of me can’t believe he’s opening up like this, and the other part can’t believe I’m pushing him to. Wolfie and I don’t discuss things like this, but right now, you wouldn’t know it. Despite this new topic, it feels comfortable, like we were always supposed to be this open with each other.
He swallows, his Adam’s apple bobbing in his throat. “Oral sex,” he says, his voice strained, like the words physically pain him to say. “It just doesn’t do it for me.”
I try to disguise my flinch as curiosity instead of surprise. “Like, at all?”
“I mean, I can get hard from it. But I never come. It’s not worth it, so don’t even try.”
I swallow, then ask on a whisper, “But what if I wanted to?”
He frowns, shaking his head. “I wouldn’t waste your time, Penelope.”
My heart squeezes. Something tells me it wouldn’t be a waste of time with him, whether he finished or not. Just to connect with him in that way would be so entirely worth it. But I’m not going to press him past his comfort zone. Not yet, anyway.
“Well, I guess we’re at a bit of an impasse then,” I say. “Because casual sex is really all I do. My career has to be my priority right now.”
He nods gravely. “I understand.”
“But I do like intimacy. I like orgasms, and I can give them to myself just fine. It’s better with a partner, though, but . . .”
“But you’re not looking for anything serious,” he says, completing my thought.
“Right. Not a boyfriend, anyway. Nothing with labels. Just someone I care enough about to be intimate with.” I glance back at him, and something close to hope flutters in my belly.
“And you wanted that someone to be me?”
Cautiously, I nod. “I’m attracted to you.”
He inhales slowly, his wide chest rising.
“Do you think that someone could be you?”
The slightest smile passes over his lips, but it quickly fades, a tense frown taking its place. “Maybe. I don’t know. It’s complicated.”
“It doesn’t have to be. We can take it slow.”
Silence again. God, what I wouldn’t give to spend just one minute inside this man’s head.
I trail my fingertips lightly along his forearm, watching as the hairs stand on end in the wake of my touch. “Maybe we could experiment. If I do anything you don’t like, just tell me and I’ll stop. Does that interest you?”
“Yes,” he whispers, his voice strained with need. “Might be good. Just for tonight.”
“Right. Just for tonight.”
He doesn’t say another word, but the look in his eyes is hungry. Lustful. Ready.
And I know we’re not going to get anywhere unless I take a chance.7* * *WOLFIEI can’t believe I just did that.
Never in my twenty-nine years have I been so candid with someone about my baggage. But Penelope insisted she wanted to know it all, so that’s what I gave her.
My anxieties, my hang-ups with sex . . . hell, I even fessed up that I don’t get off from a blow job.
It should have been enough for her to go running scared straight into the snowstorm without looking back. But somehow, she’s still here, cozied up with me in our nest of blankets and bourbon, looking at me with a meaningful gaze.
I guess miracles really can happen.
My breath stills as she slowly trails one pink-painted fingernail down my chest and over my abs. She pauses at the buckle of my belt, allowing me all the time I need to stop her.
But I don’t.
Maybe it’s just the bourbon that has me feeling loose, but the thought of being with Penelope doesn’t scare me the way it has in the past with anyone else. She’s as hot as she is soothing, like a mug of tea during the worst winter storm.
My heart is hammering, fast and embarrassingly loudly now, but Penelope doesn’t seem to notice. Her hand moves lower, and then she pauses again.
The fire crackles and pops, its light reflecting in her wild blue eyes as she blinks up at me, gauging my interest. Man, those eyes. I’ll bet they get her whatever she wants.
And tonight, what she wants is me.
I would never have guessed that Penelope was so open about sex. Then again, maybe it does make sense. When poverty knocks on the door, love flies out the window. My grandma used to say that all the time. And Connor and Penelope were raised with nothing, barely a roof over their heads at times.
