Page 56 of Fangirl Down

“I’m here, baby. Baby, just let me put it in your mouth, just for a second.” She opened her eyes to find him straddling her hips, sweatpants shoved down around his knees, his grip choking up and down those blunt inches without gentleness. “I’m one strokeaway, swear to God. Please. Just need a little suck to get through the next two days.”

The raw need in Wells’s voice brought Josephine up onto one elbow, even though her vision was still hazy from her orgasm. And no sooner did she give Wells permission with her eyes did he walk forward on his knees and pump the smooth thickness of himself between her lips, groaning at the ceiling, then louder as she accepted more, more. But his voice cut off completely when she drew on him with enough suction to hollow her cheeks—

And with a vile curse, he pulled himself quickly out of her mouth and stroked a rope of moisture onto her breasts, followed by another, another, his abdomen flexed taut, his thighs shaking on either side of her and his eyes squeezed shut. It was the most erotic scene she’d ever been a part of or witnessed. In real life or in the movies.

King Leonidas had nothing on Wells Whitaker.

He dropped down on top of her, using his elbow to keep himself slightly elevated, his gaze unfocused as both of them struggled to catch their breath.

“Well,” he said moments later, his voice like gravel as he scrutinized Josephine. “I guess this complicates the shit out of everything.”

And with that, he got up and rearranged his sweatpants, then handed Josephine the robe. He jerked his hoodie back on over his head, paced around for a few moments while finger combing his hair and looked at her long and hard. What was he thinking? Had their impromptu hookup met his expectations? “You’re not going to be weird with me in the morning, are you?”

She sat up, belted her robe, and ordered herself to be a grown-up about this. They’d exchanged pleasure and now he was leaving. He obviously wasn’t a cuddler or an afterglow type of guy—and that was fine. She usually wasn’t that type, either.If Josephine kind of wished he’d held her for a little while afterward, she would get over it. “I’m not going to be weird. Are you?”

“Me?” He scoffed. “No.”

Then nodded once and left the room.

With his hoodie on backward.

What... the heck had justhappened?

Chapter Seventeen

Wells replaced the squat bar in its cradle with a clang and turned to face the empty twenty-four-hour resort fitness center. Country music filtered into the air-conditioned space from an invisible speaker, a halogen light buzzing overhead. It was four o’clock in the morning and he really needed to be sleeping, but after three hours of dozing in front of the television, he’d woken up wired and knew there was no way he’d go back to bed.

He’d had two options.

Burn off some energy at the gym. Or go knock on Josephine’s door and demand to know again if things were going to be weird between them now that they’d hooked up. Although “hooked up” sounded incredibly insufficient, considering he’d forgotten his room number, date of birth, and the current sitting president afterward. Waiting until a socially acceptable hour to make sure their relationship hadn’t been compromised was making him restless.

He wanted to get it straightened out before their round got underway in the morning and they wouldn’t have a chance to speak off camera until late afternoon.

Without some reassurance, his concentration would be fucked.

To be fair, it was going to be capital-F Fucked no matter what, because of Josephine raking her fingernails down his chest and challenging him to finish under par, so he could come inside her.

Wells groaned out loud, splintering the silence of the fitness center.

Yeah, safe to say their dynamic had changed a lot since yesterday—

And that scared the living shit out of him. If anything, he’d assumed he’d screw up on the golf course and send her packing. This? Was an entirely different ball game. He didn’t have, didn’t do, didn’t understand relationships.

At all.

Way to dive right into the deep end with your caddie, man.

For the first time in his entire life, Wells kind of wished he could run this whole situation by another dude. Hecouldtry and call Burgess, but as far as Wells could tell, the ill-tempered hockey player was more emotionally stunted than Wells. Also, Burgess would almost certainly hang up on him, so yeah. No calls would be made today.

Buck was out, in terms of fatherly advice.

His own parents were God only knew where. Somewhere in Florida, last he’d heard.

Surprisingly, Josephine’s father came to mind. If only Wells didn’t need advice aboutthe man’s actual daughter, that might be an option.

Guess he’d have to figure this out as it came. Going it alone was nothing new for him.

He’d just never been in aromanticdilemma before.

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