Page 60 of The Art of Catching Feelings

He kneeled down by the bed, settling between her knees. “We don’t have to do anything,” he said. “We can stop.”

“I’m sorry,” she said. “I—”

“Don’t apologize.” He squeezed her thighs, and even that—more of a comforting gesture than a sexual one—made her tremble. “What do you need?”

She gave a little laugh, throwing her arm over her eyes so she could temporarily block everything out, pretend she hadn’t just delivered one of the hottest lines she’d ever said and then immediately ruined it. Not that theyhadto have sex—she knew that. But she genuinely wanted to. She wanted it so much that she’d now well and fully freaked herself out.

“I think I talked a big game,” she said. “I’ve never—ah, I know this issucha line, but I’ve never done anything like this before. I just need a minute.”

“Daphne, we can take all the time in the world. It doesn’t have to be tonight. Or it doesn’t have to be at all, if you want to back out of our deal. No strings, remember?”

Of course she remembered. She’d been the one to suggest it, and she was also the one who didn’t even know how that would work. She was already proving herself singularly terrible at it.

Chris leaned forward to grab something off the bed, and the way his body heat suddenly overwhelmed her, the close proximity of him to where she lay splayed and open…when he held up her sweatshirt, she just blinked at it for a second, unable to compute what she was even looking at.

“Did you want this?” he asked. “Or to get under the covers?”

He must’ve seen that she was feeling vulnerable, and wanted to help her. It was such a sweet gesture that Daphne felt the brief sting of tears at the back corners of her eyes, but she really didn’t want to cry. She knew if she cried, it woulddefinitelybe over, and she wasn’t ready for it to be over.

She shook her head. “I like when you look at me. I like when you touch me.”

Something flared in his eyes, and he gave her thighs another squeeze, this one decidedly more sexual. “I like to look at you,” he said, and she felt a pulse between her legs as his hot gaze landed right on the core of her. His hands were higher now, his thumbs pressing into her hip bones as he nudged her legs a little wider. “I like to touch you.”

“That’s good,” she said, her voice coming out a little choked. “It’s always good when interests align.”

“Mmm,” he said. “Can I taste you?”

Even the way he asked the question had Daphne wanting to clench her thighs together with the sudden desire that shot down her spine. Oral sex wasn’t something she’d ever gottenparticularly comfortable with—it always made her feel self-conscious, and since she’d never come that way it felt like a lot of embarrassment for nothing.

“Let’s save that,” she said, guiding his hands up to her breasts. She left her hands on his even after he’d cupped both soft mounds, liking the way it felt, that contact. “For now, this is enough. I’ve gotten off to thinking about you looking at me like this.”

“Really?” He looked adorably surprised, and she almost laughed.

“The last time I used my vibrator,” she said, “I imagined you watching me.”

“I have given alotof thought to your vibrator.” He rolled her nipples under the pads of his thumbs, causing her to moan. “And what did you mean by one beinganalog?”

“Ah,” she said, squirming a little under the delicious pressure of his fingers. She couldn’t help but think of the way he’d stroked circles on his glass down at the bar, wonder what it would feel like if he did that to her clit. “A dildo. It’s—”

She started to say it wasn’t very big, that she’d barely used it, but she couldn’t believe she was talking about her sex toys at all.

“Christ,” he said, sounding genuinely pained as he pressed his face into her stomach, breathing her in. “I’ll definitely be getting off to thinking aboutthat.”

She bit her lower lip, running her hands through his hair. Maybe she couldn’t believe they weretalkingabout her sex toys when they could be doing something else. “I brought my vibrator with me,” she said. “It’s in my suitcase under some of my clothes, in a black drawstring bag.”

He looked up at her, as if confirming what she wanted him to do, before crossing the room to lean down over her open suitcase. It wasn’t fair, how good his body was. She knew he was an athlete, that at some point working for that body was his literal job, butshe still thought an ass shouldn’t be allowed to be that tight. And at the same time, there was something almost vulnerable in the curve of his spine as he carefully moved piles of clothes to the side, something that reminded her that it was a privilege to see him this way.

And then he turned, holding up the black bag, and she got an eyeful of the front of him, too. It should definitely be illegal.

She pushed herself up so she was leaning against the headboard in the middle of the bed, reaching out for the vibrator. It was one she’d bought on a whim after seeing it in some themed listicle online for Valentine’s Day, the first one when she’d been single. It was hot pink and had multiple settings she never bothered with, because she’d found a combo that worked for her and figured why reinvent the wheel.

“So what would you do,” he said, turning the desk chair so it was facing the bed, and taking a seat. “If you were here alone.”

She hadn’t expected him to do that. She didn’t know what she’d expected. She was so turned on she thought she might come the second she touched the vibrator to her clit.

“I usually start slow…” she said, switching it on and skimming it lightly over her most sensitive spot, her hips jerking automatically from the sensation. When she looked up at Chris, she saw his throat bob with a hard swallow.

“Yeah?” he said, his voice a rasp.

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