Page 105 of Revolve
“Gonna come,” I say, pulling her hair to get her attention. “You want it in your mouth?”
She hums, and the vibration makes me see stars. My abdomen tightens, and I thrust in deeper as each drop fills her mouth. She pulls back, her tongue circling the head to lick it clean, and when she sweetly kisses the tip, I swear I’m hard again.
In an instant my mouth is on her. She tastes like me, and I know nothing can rival this.
THIRTY-SEVEN
SIERRA
COLLEGE IS DREADFULwhen lectures are three hours long and you spend them daydreaming about a six-foot-four hockey player. Because Dylan Donovan’s dick is the nicest I’ve ever seen. Not that I’ve seen many, but good God the man is beautiful. Between Lake Placid and the locker room, my thoughts have been indecent this whole week of classes and practice. I think he’s rubbing off on me.
Despite all that, it’s the look he gave me the night he left my hotel room that hits me the hardest. I know that sex is different in college, and Dylan has had a ton of it. From what I’ve gathered from Scarlett’s sleuthing, he’s never slept with the same girl twice. For some reason, he’s letting me have more, but I refuse to make him regret it by letting my head get the better of me. I’m inexperienced, not stupid. So, I promised myself I wouldn’t repeat what happened with Justin. I could have fun, and I don’t need to put everything on the line for that.
My phone buzzes, and his name flashes on my screen as if he knows I’m thinking about him.
Dylan:Dale Thunderman is here.
Sierra:What?! How? He just posted that he’s storm chasing in Oklahoma.
Dylan:Jesus. I only said that so you’d come over. Do you actually follow him?
Sierra:Only for the scenic imagery.
Dylan:… he only posts himself.
Sierra:Exactly.
Dylan:Keep it in your pants, Romanova. The man is married. And if you want pictures, come over and you can take as many as you want of me.
Sierra:You already send me a shirtless picture every morning. I’ll pass.
Dylan:I’ll make you food.
Sierra:Fine.
Dylan already had sandwiches made by the time I got to the house. We had practice earlier, so the exhaustion is palpable between us. It got worse when Kian made us scroll through hundreds of kittens to help him choose the one he’s adopting. I think he’s lonely.
But once we got to Dylan’s room, he pulled me into his bathroom. After my accident, I barely looked at myself in the mirror. Now, he likes to watch me come undone in front of it. In the shower, my back hits the tile, and he drops to his knees, kisses my scars, and whispers sweet words against my skin. Goose bumps trail after his lips, and it feels like my body is rejoicing in the love I never give it. I didn’t know it could get better, but with him my body sings, and I want to stay long after the water runs cold.
We exit the bathroom, and I can’t help but watch him. Dylan Donovan’s back is my undoing. The water droplets glide over his tan skin, tracing a slow path down his back until they disappear into the towel wrapped around his waist.
But my attention drifts as he pulls out a pair of shorts. A lavender envelope slips from beneath the fabric, fluttering to the floor by his feet. I slide off the bed, his oversize T-shirt brushing against my thighs as I crouch down to pick it up. When I straighten, Dylan steps aside, his gaze following the letter now suspended between my fingers.
“You dropped this,” I say.
The relaxed expression on his face that settled there after our shower disappears completely. I want to retreat into the shower again to put the smile back on his face.
“What’s wrong?”
He cups my face and kisses the crown of my head. “Nothing for you to worry about.”
“Dylan.”
“It’s nothing, Sierra.”
“Then why do you look so upset?”
His thumb moves in a back-and-forth motion against my jawline. “It’s a letter from my mom. My dad gave it to me the day he came to visit. I haven’t opened it.”
