“Yes, please, you should—”
“Hush.” Her free fingers brush across my lips as her other hand continues to skim over my abs, tracing each one through my shirt as she adds, “I’ll keep undoing the buttons until you can almost see my bra, and every time I look up, your gaze will be locked on that place, like you can pop that final button through the hole with your eyes if you stare at it hard enough.”
I hum my appreciation for this fantasy against her fingers.
“My nipples will get hard,” she adds, making my already thickening cock swell fatter behind the fly of my jeans. “And I’ll be dying for you to touch me, but I won’t stop until I’ve trapped you on my canvas. Until every dip and hollow and angle of this beautiful body belongs to me in a way it’s never belonged to anyone else. And no matter how many women you’re with after me, you’ll never, ever forget me and the things I made you feel.”
My eyes flicker open, my heart lurching as my eyes lock with hers.
“You opened your eyes,” she whispers.
“Have you ever told anyone else that fantasy?” I ask in an equally soft voice.
She shakes her head slowly back and forth. “No, I told you, I need to be with someone I can trust. And if I’m with someone like that, I know I’ll be able to say those other things without getting embarrassed, too. Eventually.”
I lift my hand, brushing my fingers gently across her forehead and over her hair, chest tightening as her silky curls brush against my palm. “It’s even softer than I thought it would be.”
She steps closer, tilting her head back. “Does that mean what I think it’s means?”
“That I’ve been wondering if your hair is as soft as it looks?”
She arches a challenging brow.
I let my hand fall to my side as I let out a long breath. “All right. But we keep this top fucking secret, like you said. And when it’s over, we’re still friends. You don’t get to stop being my friend just because I made you come a few hundred times. Deal?”
Her lips press together as she seems to fight a smile. “Shouldn’t that be top secret fucking? Instead of top fucking secret? Because…you know.”
I grin. “Right. Project TSF. Highly classified. Don’t ask, don’t tell. The first rule of Top Secret Fucking Club is that we don’t—”
“Talk about TSF Club, got it,” she supplies with a small roll of her eyes.
“Why the eye roll?”
“Because you make Fight Club jokes all the time,” she says. “You have since you were like…seventeen.”
“Well, thanks,” I say with a huff. “Are you saying I’m an old man who repeats himself without realizing it and should get some new material? You could find someone younger, you know. You don’t have to settle for a guy eight years older than you are with a bunch of bad dad jokes.”
“I like your dad jokes,” she says, “but I also like to tease you about them. But mostly, I’d like to circle back around to that ‘few hundred’ comment you tossed out. In my experience, getting the um…train to the station isn’t that easy, mister. You might want to revise that goal down a few notches.”
Now it’s my turn to roll my eyes. “Oh, please, Feisty. Give me some credit.”
“I am, I just—”
“Hush,” I say, pressing a finger to her lips. “It’s not going to be a problem. I promise.”
“But what if my parts aren’t like other women’s parts?” she asks, just her mouth moving against my finger enough to make me even harder. Or maybe it’s the fact that we’re talking about orgasms that’s doing it. “Some women are train station challenged. It’s a thing.”
I smirk. I can’t help it. “Yeah, still not worried.”
“And why’s that?” she asks. “You’re just cocky as hell?”
“I have two major talents, Feisty. One is being an excellent hockey player. The other is…train station related.” I pull my hand from her lips to point an accusing finger at her face. “Now you’ve got me doing it. Orgasm related. Coming related. Climax—”
“I get it,” she says. “And I’ll work on finding a word I like before we…” She glances around the apartment, a mixture of anxiety and anticipation on her face. “Unless we… We aren’t starting now, are we?”
“No,” I say, even though several body parts are loudly demanding I reconsider. “I think we should sleep on this. Make sure we still think it’s a good idea in the cold light of day. I’m also pretty sure Chet would frown on me hooking up in his place when all I was invited to do was water the plants and lounge on the balcony if I need to work on my tan before autumn sets in.”
She nods. “Understandable. But I’m not going to change my mind. I’m actually even more into this kind of thing in the cold light of day. I wake up ready for the train to leave the station. If you know what I mean.”