Page 64 of Our Little Cliche
I want her to feel that she is safe around me. I don’t want her to feel shame, fear, or worry with me. And I want her to believe that.
The undertones of her blonde that’s coming through is almost red, like copper. Her breasts sit on her rib cage a little lower than when her bra secured them, yielding to gravity. They are more than a perfect handful. Both nipples are peach in hue and taut with desire.
My tongue glides over my lips as I lower my gaze, focusing on the way her belly button caves in, and her jeans sit just over her hips. I draw my hand to my mouth, running my index finger and thumb down the sides. “God fucking damn,” I repeat the same sentence as earlier with less air in my chest this time, then everything goes blurry.
Crap, my glasses are fogging up.
“You know, for an intelligent man who writes smut for a living, he sure does have very few words to say when a half naked woman is in front of him,” she says with a flirtatious grin.
You smart ass.
You damn fucking smart ass.
I wipe the smear of lust and heat from my lenses with my shirt and she takes a peak at what hides underneath my layer of fabric, inhaling sharply. “Imagine my vocabulary seeing youfullynaked,” I challenge with a heated tone.
Chapter Thirty-Three
HOLLY
Fully…naked?No one’s ever seen mefully naked. Not even Adam. We did lights off only. Normally Adam would have stuck it in me by now. Lights off, all under the sheets without him even looking at me, then done his part for two, maybe four minutes max, rolled over and gone to sleep, leaving me needy and undesired.
I realize my head is dropping under his gaze, but I lift it, making another mental note to keep it held high, even though my body is fighting me to cover up and look away. I want to panic, but that look in his eyes stops me. Cyrus is devouring me like I’m a goddess, how could I panic? How could I hide when he’s looking at me in such a way—the way that I have been yearning for. For years.
Adam NEVER looked at me the way Cyrus is right now. It makes me feel… safe…wanted. Acting entirely on impulse I unbutton my jeans, rolling the edges down over my hips and exposing the base of my belly.
A rumbling sound quakes from his chest, like a groan or whimper but it’s so soft I barely hear it. His eyes shift from me to the manuscript before raising a brow.Keep reading,he doesn’teven need to say the words. Using my amazing literature skills, I mentally blitz over the page in a flash of lightning, counting at least fivemoans, andwhimperswritten on the page—it’s another spicy scene.
My heart is in my throat at this point, so I gnaw on my lip to suppress the adrenaline.Don’t draw blood again,I scold myself. I clear my throat, taking off from Chris’s point of view, who’s sending her a text from outside—wearing a mask again. He’d planted a phone in her room earlier that day so that he could reach her.
“‘I want you to Facetime me when you do that again,’ my first message says. ‘Why? You watch me anyway,’ she replies, already knowing it’s me. My text back to Hailey is quick, ‘Why not have a window seat and front row?’”
He wants to watch her from the window, and have her on camera too? Jesus. That’s hot… and familiar. The whole book is, actually.
Cyrus drops to his knees and I freeze. Looking up at me he curls his fingers under the elastic of my waist band, checking its durability before pulling them down a fraction. The air escapes my chest to the warm sensation of his fingers brushing against the soft, untouched skin. “I’m listening,” he says, tone both encouraging and demanding.
His eyes stay pinned on mine as I continue, “My obsession with this girl has gone far beyond my expectations, just one night with her wasn’t enough. Nor was it for her. I’m just glad to find out she’s just as insane as I am for doing it. She wants it just as bad, if not worse. She replies, ‘Fine, I’ll give you front row. But only on one con?—’”
I try reading the next sentence but the fact that my jeans are completely off my ass stops me. It’s silent for a second. “Fuck,”Cyrus breathes. “You’re not wearing?—”
“I had none left. I hadn’t been to the laundromat, and then we got locked in…” My cheeks flush.
“You’ve been with me this whole time… with nothing on?”
My breath hitches as he inches my pants down a little further, stopping at my thighs. “Mhmm.”
“No wonder this wet patch was so palpable.”Holy hell, just take me now. I simply can’t wait.“Keep reading,” he adds.
How am I going to concentrate now that his face is level with my pussy? I breathe out, reading on anyway. “But only on one condition.’ ‘And what’s that, sweet angel?’”Wait, angel?My brows furrow, noticing a pattern in this manuscript. Hold the hell on.Is this… us?If it is, that’s so hot.
I flare my eyes at Cyrus who has nothing but lust in his eyes while staring at mine. A slight smirk pulls on his lips. I suspect he assumes that I know, but neither of us say anything, we don’t need to. I look down, seeing his erection straining against his pants—that also has a wet patch.
He’s solid.
Rock fucking solid.
“For the record, that’s for you. Not the book,” he clarifies, and moisture pools between my legs at his desire for me, so much so that I can feel it threatening to trickle past my labia.
Do I thank him for such intimacy?
