Page 33 of The Wildest One
“From your mouth?”
I chuckled. “If that’s what you want.” I rubbed my tip against her clit, taking in that feeling once again, fucking torturing myself. “But I’m hoping at least one is from my dick.”
“I want that.” Her hands took hold of my shaft and began to pump. “Go get a condom. Right now.”
Traces of faint morning light were coming in through the blinds, showing hints of Jolie’s face and body as she lay, covered by the thin white sheet. Where she had fallen asleep after her fourth orgasm, I’d stayed up. Watching her. Listening to her breathe. And when it was time, I climbed out of bed and put the last of my things into my suitcase, rolling it to the door.
I didn’t like goodbyes, and since I didn’t know what ours would look like, I took a few minutes to write her a quick note. While I stood in the doorway of the bedroom, staring at that unforgettable body, I reread the words I’d jotted down on one of the hotel’s notepads.
You looked far too beautiful and peaceful to wake up. When you read this, don’t rush out. The room is reserved until tomorrow morning—I extended it for you. Order breakfast, lunch, dinner—whatever you want, it’s on me.
I’m leaving my number. Use it. Or don’t. Just know, I’ll never forget these three nights.
—Beck
P.S. Since I fucked the Boston off you, I thought it was only fair to replace it with LA.
I glanced toward the bed again. The red of her hair was such a contrast to the white bedding. The shape of her ass, the arch ofher back, the softness of her neck, even hidden—it was making me want to get back in and have one more taste.
But I forced myself to walk into the living room, setting the note on the table next to my LA Whales sweatshirt. I paused for a second—only a second—and wheeled my suitcase to the door. I left my key inside the suite and quietly shut the door behind me.
Unknown
Hey, it’s Jolie.
Me
Good morning, gorgeous.
Jolie
You’re gone. SOB.
Me
I just got to the plane.
Jolie
I can’t believe you left me your sweatshirt.
Me
I think you should wear it to the next Boston home game.
Jolie
You’re funny.
Me
I wasn’t joking.
Jolie
Listen, I want to thank you. I’ll never forget those three nights either—even if I’m going to have to get an extension on my paper that I was supposed to write and spend allll the hours at the office to get caught up, you were worth it. If you ever find your way here again, you have my number. Use it. Or don’t. Just know, I want you to.
Me
