Bad Romeo (Starcrossed #1)(95)
Author: Leisa Rayven

The look on his face tells me he’s about to say something I don’t want to hear, so I kiss him to shut him up and stroke him slowly. He moans and grips my thighs. Neither of those things makes me any less frantic.

I stand and unbutton my jeans then tug them down to my knees in record time. I try standing on them to get them off, but they’re skinny jeans, and the stupid things won’t go over my giant feet.

“Dammit!”

I yank my right foot up and try to pull it free, but I end up overbalancing and face-plant into Ethan’s crotch. My chin hits something soft, and he doubles over and cups himself.

“Fuuuuuuck, woman…”

“Sorry! Oh my God, I’m so sorry!”

He collapses sideways on the couch. I try to stand, desperate to help in some way, but my feet are still encased in my jeans, so I just end up falling over again.

“Fracking frack!”

Holt groans, his face half turned into the couch cushion. “Taylor, if you’re going to be a badass who destroys her boyfriend’s balls, you’re going to have to start using real swear words.”

I sit on the ground and tug at my jeans until my feet are free, then I kneel in front of him. “I’m so sorry. Are you okay?”

His voice is strained when he says, “Well, I don’t have the problem of coming in record time anymore, that’s for damn sure.”

I lean down and stroke his hair. “I’m sorry.”

“You keep saying that. It doesn’t help.”

“I don’t know what else to do.”

He eyes my jeans, which are like a denim pretzel beside me. “You’re the only person I know who can turn getting undressed into an extreme sport. What the hell is the rush?”

“I just … I want you.”

“I want you, too, but that doesn’t mean we have to have sex this very second. We haven’t even been to third base yet.”

“Yes, we have.”

He scoffs. “No, we haven’t. I’d remember you going down on me. Or me going down on you, for that matter.”

All of the blood that isn’t currently pulsing down south now rushes to my face. “You haven’t— I mean … That’s third base?” I have a flash of self-consciousness about him being all face-friendly down there. “I … uh … I thought that was fourth base.”

He sits up and frowns. “Cassie, fourth base is sex. How many bases do you think there are?”

I don’t know, but I want him to teach me about all of them.

I lean in to kiss him, but he pulls away. “Just … stop, for a second okay? What’s going on with you?”

“I’m sorry, I just—” I slump back onto my heels, feeling frustrated and foolish. “You make me crazy, and I want to do stuff to you and have you do stuff to me, but you keep stopping and I…” My eyes prickle. I can’t pretend his continued rejections don’t hurt.

“Come here.” He pulls me up onto the couch, and we lie side by side.

I sigh when he grazes the backs of his fingers across my cheek. “I just get the feeling I want this more than you do, and that sucks, you know?”

He looks at me like I’ve accused him of liking Adam Sandler movies. “You think—” He shakes his head. “You think I don’t want you? Are you fucking serious?”

He runs his hand down my side and reaches the bare skin of my thigh. “How can you possibly think for even one second I don’t—” He looks down. “Fuck me, what are you wearing?”

My panties and bra don’t match, but he doesn’t seem to care. He runs one fingertip around the edge of my lacy boy shorts. It’s the closest he’s ever come to delving beneath the fabric, and my heart rate immediately goes into overdrive.

“You like these?”

He closes his hand over my hip. “I like you. Your panties are just a bonus. If you understood … if you had any idea how much I—” He looks at me, eyes heavy and dark. “Cassie, I want you, all the time. Too much.”

He leans forward to cover my mouth with his, and the light suction almost distracts me from the way he runs his hand down my leg to grip the spot just under my knee.

“I have to be careful with you,” he says between soft, slow kisses. “Because if I screw this up…” He kisses my neck, almost talking to himself. “I really don’t want to screw this up.”

“You won’t.” I take his face in both hands to make him look at me. “Besides, what’s the worst that could happen, right?”

He grazes fingers across my stomach, then slowly moves up to my breasts. He teases me there as he kisses my neck, then my chest, then the swells at the top of my bra. Just when I think he can’t inflame me any more, he moves his hands lower. And lower. Then he’s right there, over my panties, touching gently at first, then pressing harder, making my breathing shallow. He takes control of my pleasure like he has an instruction manual, watching my face the whole time to gauge my reaction.

How is it possible? How can he know what to do to my body when I’m still fumbling and clueless?

Within sixty seconds, he has me closer to orgasm than I can get in ten minutes on my own. I subconsciously rock against his hand, to try and find the magical fulcrum of sensation that will tip me over the edge.

“That look,” he says, as I press my head back into the cushions. “That belongs to me. The way your mouth drops open. Your eyelids flutter. That look is all mine.”

Then I gasp, because he pushes into my panties and brushes aside the lace. He’s never done that before, and ohhhhh, dear God, his fingers …

His perfect, virtuosic fingers.

I squeeze my eyes shut as he touches parts he’s never touched before.

He groans, too, and presses his forehead against mine. “Jesus … so soft. And bare. What the fuck are you trying to do to me?”

“Ruby.” I’m panting and barely coherent.

“No, I’m Ethan. But if there’s some awesome lesbian tale you’d like to tell me about you and your roommate, I’m all ears.” He presses harder.

“No,” I say, barely able to get the words out. “Ruby forces me to get Brazilians. That’s why I’m bare. It hurts like hell.”

He moves his hand faster, and I can’t keep my eyes open.

“Right now, Ruby is my hero. I’ve never felt anything like this.”

“Oh, God … Me neither.”