Page 109 of Green Flag
Words were still failing me.
I was mortification.
“You asked Ces if he liked to watch,” he said in the silence. “It’s no secret that I do.”
Damn his damningly beautiful face. I wanted to hit him.
Fueled by frustration, I hurled what was in my hand. He caught it with ease, glanced down, and gave a chuffed smile.
“Is this a not-so-subtle invitation?” he asked and lifted the object that I’d thrown at him like a child.
Oh my fucking god. I had just launched my vibrator at him. He marvelled the vibrator that had been pulsing inside of me no less than ten seconds ago. And — oh my good lord — was still vibrating in his hand.
I needed to stop being so impulsive and regulate my emotions like he did.
“No!” I cried and launched myself over the bed to snatch it from his hands.
His face shifted to pure amusement, fighting a smile — or maybe a laugh.
“It’s nothing to be embarrassed about,” he said and leaned back in the chair. “Maybe we can come to some form of arrangement.”
With him? Sexually? Like that night?
But we weren’t even kissing in public, let alone…
Now words had no chance because my mouth was so dry, my thoughts spiralling, thinking just what that might be like.How would he touch me if this was on a regular basis? How long would we last before caving and truly fucking? How quickly would I fall head over heels for him?
And it might be wrong but, fuck, I wanted that.
Maybe my face showed confusion or disgust, but his eyes softened and he leaned forward to say, “We can arrange a time for each of us to be out for a while so that we can go uninterrupted— unless, of course, you would like an audience. I’d give you my undivided attention.”
Oh.
A fresh wave of embarrassment rolled through my body, heating my cheeks.
“That’s a good point,” I snapped, standing at the foot of the bed, my chest inches from his. “What are you even doing here? You were meant to be gone for another hour.”
Without turning, he lifted the airpods behind him from the desk. “Forgot these.”
“Right,” I said quickly, wanting to shake out all of the nervous, frustrated energy from my limbs.
His eyes narrowed. “What are you doing in my top?”
I did not fluster easily. Not normally.
But knowing my pussy was soaked under the hem of his top made me cringe, stepping back into the wall.
His head leaned to the side and the gleam in his eyes told me he wasn’t angry — more curious. I’d rather he was angry.
He walked forward, almost caging me against the wall of the little walkway into the hotel room.
“Everly,” he pressed, his voice a gentle tease. Amusement danced in his gaze as he crossed his arms. “What were you thinking of?”
“Nothing,” I cried, but my high-pitched tones blew away any chance of him believing me.
The smirk on his face and the affectionate narrowing of his eyes made my heart stutter.
“I was thinking of my book,” I snapped, proud I managed to get out so many words in one breath.
