Page 66 of The Wildest One
Even the sound of her drove me wild.
So did the view.
I glanced up her body, meeting the flatness of her stomach and the curve of each tit, her unruly hair clinging to them. My gaze went higher to the delicateness of her neck, her full and parted lips, and her beautiful light-blue eyes.
Years later, and she still had no idea how gorgeous she was.
And that softness, that humbleness—it was something I would endlessly crave from her.
When her body began to still, her sounds turning from shouts to dull murmurs, I lowered the momentum. My tongue went from flicking to slow, agonizing laps, and my finger eventually slid out. I kissed up and down her pussy, back and forth, swallowing the thickness before I rose to my feet.
She didn’t pull her hands off the glass. She didn’t even move. She just looked at me with the most animalistic expression and said, “What are you doing to me?” She took a breath between each word.
“I told you I was going to eat your pussy until you couldn’t come anymore.”
“We’re already there.” A hand went against her chest. “I’m a million percent positive that, after that, I can’t come anymore.”
I laughed. “We’re not even close to there.” I pulled her hand off her chest and held it in mine. “You need to be taken care of. We have two years and nine months to make up for.”
“But you already took care of me in the kitchen. What happened in here, that was just …” She shook her head as though she couldn’t describe it.
“In here, that was for me.”
She smiled. “You’re a true unicorn.”
“Why? Because I love to eat pussy?” When she nodded, I added, “Jolie, it’s not all pussy. It’s just your pussy.” I held the back of her head and kissed her, the stream of water pouring between us. “The amount of satisfaction it gives me? I can’t explain it. But I can tell you, I fucking crave it.”
While I held her hand, I went to kiss the inside of her wrist, and I halted midway, staring at the blank skin, rubbing my thumb across it. For comparison, I lifted her other hand to check that wrist, noticing it wasn’t there either. The thin, faint cursiveLthat had been there before was gone.
“What happened to your tattoo?”
“I had it lasered.” She tilted her head back for a moment, wetting her forehead. “It was a graduation present to myself.”
“It’s completely vanished. They did a hell of a job.”
“Which is a major relief. I swear, if I had to stare at thatLfor one more second, I was going to be a very unhappy girl.”
“You could have covered it with aB.” I winked at her.
She laughed. “No more initials on my body. One and done, mistake-wise.”
I kissed the spot where theLused to be. “We’ll see about that.”
SIXTEEN
Jolie
Guilt was what caused my eyes to flick open before the sun rose. It was what made my heart race. It was what had me carefully lifting Beck’s arm off my stomach, sliding out of his bed, and setting his arm on the mattress, hoping the movement didn’t cause him to stir. It was what had me tiptoeing around his room to grab my dress and shoes and purse, quickly layering them on my body. And it was what had me standing in the doorway of his bedroom, staring at him while he lay on his stomach beneath the sheet and comforter.
Two years and nine months ago, while I had slept in his hotel room, he had taken off to fly to Washington, DC, and I was doing almost the same thing to him now.
In fact, I still had the note and sweatshirt he’d left me. The note lived in my nightstand. The sweatshirt folded on a rack in my closet. I hadn’t worn it in a while. But for a long time, that sweatshirt had come to bed with me every night. I’d sniffed the thick fabric until I couldn’t even smell the slightest hint of him.
Here, I wasn’t leaving anything besides memories.
Ones that I’d have to hold on to for the rest of my life.
Oh God.
