Page 59 of The Wingman

“I should go to bed.” She bites her lip, toying with the bracelet I bought her. “I’m going to one of Hazel’s early yoga classes.” Her eyebrows lift; her mouth goes flat in a muted smile. “And you probably want toshower, right?”

I go still. “What?”

She knows. My gut hardens. Fuck. How long has she known? How much does she know? Does she know everything?

Her mouth twists and she rolls her eyes. “Every time you touch me, you race to the shower after to wash my germs off.”

Is that what she thinks? That I think she’s gross or something?

She takes one look at my stricken expression and laughs, but it’s strained. “Hayden. It’s fine.” She pats my shoulder. “I’m just teasing you.”

No, she’s not. I can tell from the tone of her voice that she’s hurt.

Fuck. Pain slices through my chest. Her feelings are hurt. My eyebrows pull together as I grapple to explain the situation without blurting out everything.

“Good night, Wingman,” she says over her shoulder, walking to her bedroom.

I’m right behind her, catching up in long strides. “Wait.”

She turns with a curious look. “Mm?”

My feet carry me forward until I’m a foot away, standing closer than we normally would. “There’s something I want you to know.”

My pulse thunders in my ears. What am I doing? I should let her go to sleep, and we can both forget this whole night ever happened.

I can’t, though.

“Sex isn’t supposed to benice,” I tell her in a low voice, watching her eyes widen as she remembers our conversation.

She blinks rapidly, lips parting, and the devil inside me wants to kiss her again.

“And it’s not supposed to be predictable.”

It’s supposed to be like that kiss we had, but I don’t know how to say that without everything falling apart.

She needs to know, though. She deserves to have everything. This phase is about her figuring out what she wants?

Well, I want her to have what she deserves.

“It’s supposed to be all-consuming.” My voice is a rasp, and blood rushes to my cock as I think about the way she felt sitting on my lap. “So hot you feel like you’re going to catch fire. All you can think about is the person you’re with, how they feel, how they taste and smell, and what their moans sound like. How to make them do it again.”

Her chest rises and falls with uneven breaths, and her pupils expand, blowing wide.

“Making them come is your sole focus, and when they do? You want it all over again. You’re addicted to them. Desperate to make them comeso fucking hard.”

The apartment is silent except for the sounds of our uneven breathing.

I lean a hand on the wall beside Darcy’s head, towering over her, and she tips her face up, watching me with wide eyes. “And when they can’t possibly come again, when they’re begging you to finish inside them, your control finally breaks and you lose your mind. It’s like nothing else in the world. Everything stops and it’s just you and them.”

Her eyelashes flutter, and I’m picturing Darcy beneath me on my bed, tensing up as we hit our peak together.

“The feeling is so intense, it can’t be real. Somehow, you survive it and can’t wait to do it again. Youneedto do it again.” My lips hover near her ear. “Fucking them has become a craving that you can’t ignore.”

I’ve never had sex like that, but I can imagine it. I can so fucking imagine it.

Her attention on me is addictive, the way she soaks up my words, how her eyes flash with surprise and excitement. I’m fully hard, aching for her and praying she doesn’t look down.

Power rushes through me. It feels good to take control like this, to stand over her while she gazes up at me with that expression of wonder. For once, it feels good not to be so considerate andnice.

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