Page 74 of Revolve
“T-tell you what?”
“That I’m the best partner you’ve ever had.” His voice is low and possessive, and it makes my toes curl.
“You are,” I say honestly. “You’re the best partner I’ve ever had.”
When he smiles, he looks so handsome. But even though he may think I said it to get off, it’s true. Never have I had someone so confident, so extremely self-assured that it made me believe that I could be that way too. That I could be good enough.
Dylan draws out my orgasm like it’s easy. He moves up to kiss me, and when he curls his fingers inside me, he watches my eyes roll back with unadulterated satisfaction.
“I could come just like this. Just from watching myself fuck you with my fingers.”
I whimper. “I’m coming.”
He hums in approval, trailing kisses down my chest until he sucks on my nipples. “Ride my fingers, baby. Take what you need.”
All my inhibitions flew out the window the second he saw me naked. So I ride his hand, and my vision swims. I don’t know if I scream or cry or whimper, but I erupt like a once-dormant volcano. I’m sure Scarlett’s got her headphones on now.
Dylan’s still kissing me, and I’m acutely aware of his lips on my scars, dotting my skin like a constellation. While I drift down, light as a feather, I watch him with a dopey smile that I can’t seem to hide.My heart hammers seeing him caress where I haven’t allowed anyone else to even look.
Dylan pulls my leg over his, pulling me close and cradling my body like we’ve never not been this way.
“You are so much more than your scars.” He presses a kiss on the scar on my head. “So much more.”
And right now, for whatever reason, I choose to believe him.
TWENTY-SIX
DYLAN
IT’S BEEN Aweek, and I still think I can taste cherries. Today, Lidia called me into her office after one of our shorter practice sessions. I was exhausted by the time I slumped in her chair, and she told me we needed to adjust our schedule if I’m going back to hockey. Coach hasn’t confirmed anything, so I haven’t even thought about it. The only thing I do think about is staying in sync, trying to anticipate Sierra’s every move, and making our lifts look as easy as breathing. Along with trying my hardest not to think about her breathy moans and the sweet taste of her lips whenever she’s close.
Earlier this morning we went for a run, and apparently, I was too chipper. But I think that’s thanks to Summer for dragging me on all those hikes. Sierra huffed against the tree bark, staring at me with disdain.
“It’s two degrees. Why is your shirt off?” she asked.
“Does it make you uncomfortable?”
“Put on a goddamn shirt, Donovan.”
“Only if you put it on me.”
“Grow up.”
“I’m plenty grown. Want me to show you?” That comment got medirt to the face. But I did notice the way Sierra reddened, and I’d bet money she was thinking about my face between her thighs. However, I’ve decided to be a gentleman, so if Sierra wants me to give her the orgasms she doesn’t allow herself and make this a lot more than justone kiss, she’s going to have to ask me.
“Where have you been?” Kian asks as soon as I enter the house.
“The rink.”
Kian flips his textbook shut. “How is it that you spend more time at the rink after being suspended than you did when you were actually on the hockey team?” He taps his pencil against the wooden dining table like a ticking clock.
I ignore him as I open the refrigerator.
“I have an answer.” He pauses for dramatic effect. “It’s because you’re whipped.”
The only things in the refrigerator are a single loaf of bread, half-finished jars of strawberry jam and peanut butter, and a few Slink drinks. Kian comes into the kitchen to stare at me from a distance. I drop bread in the toaster and do my best to ignore him.
“First Aiden, then Eli, and now you? My friends are dropping like flies, and I’m just here studying for a philosophy test. I’d rather be whipped too.”
