18. Lennox
18
LENNOX
F uck.
A snoring Connor lies on top of the freshly changed bedding as I get in next to him. I jerked off in the shower, but it hasn’t helped—my dick is hard again.
This was a horrible idea, not that my dick cares. She’s emotional, romantic, and sensitive. She was possibly even drunk. Urgh . I rub a hand over my face. She doesn’t know how to separate sex from feelings. Once was already pushing it, but twice—it’s playing with fire. Fire she could only get hurt with. And she’s already been hurt enough in her life.
This was a mistake. But it was probably the best mistake of my life.
Shit, the way she fell apart for me. The way that I could feel her losing her inhibitions as she got more and more turned on. The way her sweet girl facade crumbled, replaced by basic, primal need.
She couldn’t be the perfect girl she strove to be while she was riding my hand. No, she was decadent and unapologetic. And it was the most beautiful thing I’ve ever seen.
Turning down her offer of returning the favor was physically painful, but it was the right thing to do. Taking from the girl willing to give everything is a recipe for disaster.
By the morning, I barely got any sleep, so I rush into the kitchen, brewing some coffee and pouring myself a huge cup. Connor saunters down ten minutes later, fully dressed. The others are still sleeping, I guess.
“Morning.” I nod in response. “Rina and I will get going soon, we promised Eric to take him for a skate today. Is it cool if Anne rides with you?” He grabs himself a cup before continuing. “We would’ve taken her, but Rina says she’s still sleeping. She must have been exhausted yesterday.”
I almost choke on a sip of still hot coffee. “Exhausted?” I croak.
“Yeah, from the skiing. Anyway, can you drive her?” Thank fuck.
“Sure, no problem.”
“Thanks, man.” He shoots me a smile and begins grabbing his stuff from the living room.
This will be good. A chance to talk to her and clear the air. Talking is not my favorite activity, but it beats her getting hurt. I just need to explain that what happened twice before can’t happen again.
She sleeps for an hour more, Connor and Rina already long gone.
“Where is everyone?” she says, coming downstairs from her room, her voice still groggy.
“Matt, Natalie, Alex, and Noah are having a snow fight outside.” I chuckle. “And Connor and Rina left to pick up Eric.”
“What? They left?” Her sleep mussed hair is adorable.
“Yup, but don’t worry, you’ll ride with me.” Her eyes twinkle at that. Like I said, this is dangerous and needs to be stopped.
The cabin is a mess as we all rush to pack our shit. I’m not a fan of group gatherings, but this one was cool. They are a collection of different individuals that fit together perfectly. And I don’t really stick out like a sore thumb, either. Matt is into hockey, Noah knows his bikes, Alex reads feminist literature like I do, and Natalie is—well, Natalie. You don’t need much to connect to her, she’ll grab you by the throat and take you in. Figuratively, of course.
Anne and I pack everything into my car since she doesn’t let me do it myself.
“Have a safe trip,” Alex says as Matt locks up the cabin. The four of them had a harder time packing all the gear into a single car.
“Thanks. You too.” Anne smiles.
“Glad you came with us, man.” Matt pats my shoulder and Noah nods in agreement.
“I’m glad I came, too.”
We enter the cars and get on the road. Anne fidgets her fingers in her lap, her teeth nibbling on her bottom lip.
Fuck, she must be nervous. I need to make this right.
“Look—” I start, but she interrupts me mid-sentence.
“I have a proposition,” she squawks, all in one breath.
“A what?” I spare her a quick glance, my eyes focused on the road.
“A proposition.”
“What do you mean?”
She releases a deep breath. “This is embarrassing… it never felt like that. Never before.” Her head turns to the side, staring out of the window.
“What never felt like what?”
“You know.” Her hand dances dramatically in my peripheral vision. “Naughty things. Never. Felt. That. Good.”
I don’t dare look at her, but I would put money on her skin being flushed that gorgeous pink. “That’s what I wanted to talk to you about, actually.”
“Please, let me finish.” Another breath. “I think I would like more of it. You know what you’re doing, and for some reason, I think you might be enjoying it, too.” Her voice breaks a couple of times, but she doesn’t falter. No, she asks for what she wants.
Fuck, she’s prefect.
But this is the opposite of what I wanted to say.
“I don’t think it’s a good idea.” My grip on the wheel tightens.
“I realize you probably have many other options and that this isn’t ideal.”
“It’s not that… but I don’t want to hurt you.” There’s a lump in my throat just talking about it. “I told you I don’t do relationships and it’s the truth.”
“It’s a good thing I’m not looking for one, then,” she says with conviction. “I’ve been doing some thinking lately and realized I’m not sure I know who I am. I always molded myself to people I was dating, or to my family. And it never worked.” She shakes her head. “So, I think I finally decided to do things I want. And I think some good sex is what I really, really want.”
I almost choke on my own spit, her words surprising me. I know she needs good sex, it’s obvious in her responsiveness. Desperate for anything I’ll give her. But to hear this shy girl say it aloud, it took some guts. “What are you proposing?”
“You and I.” A sigh. “Having sex. Just sex.” My brain knows it’s a terrible idea, but my dick’s demanding all the blood be directed to him.
“Did you ever do something casual?” I measure my words carefully.
“No. But what I’ve been doing obviously hasn’t worked.” She shrugs.
“I’m still afraid you’ll get hurt.”
“I thought about that. And I don’t think it’s going to happen. With my exes, I was brainwashed into thinking they loved me, and that’ s what hurt the most. Not losing Bryce, but realizing I’ve been living a lie. With this, I know exactly where I stand. You and I don’t share interests, goals, or anything else. Just chemistry, I guess.”
Her words, though making sense, burrow themselves deep inside of me. She’s spot on. What would a nice girl like her have in common with a guy like me? We’re two separate worlds, but I can’t deny the chemistry.
My pause forces her to continue, “How about this? If I do get some feelings, I’ll tell you and we’ll stop immediately?”
“And how do I know that will happen?”
“Because it’s in my best interest not to get heartbroken.”
“I guess you’re right.”
“Is that you saying yes?” Her voice turns chipper, her hands clasped together.
“Maybe. I’m still not aware how the whole thing would look like.”
“It’s up to you, you’re the experienced one. Teach me, master,” she adds jokingly, making me groan.
“Sorry,” she quips, her skin the color of her hair.
“I don’t even know what you like.” My teeth hurt from grinding together but my dick’s ready to go.
“Me neither.” She lets out a self-deprecating huff. “I hoped you could help me figure it out.”
I glance her way, and it was a mistake. Her eyes stare at me innocently, round and huge, and fuck—there’s no way I could say no.
“Fine.”
“Really?” she squeals. “Thank you!”
“Don’t thank me yet. Besides, we need to make sure we’re on the same page for a few things before it.”
“Great. Hit me with it.” Her enthusiasm is contagious.
“Not now. I’ll text when we can meet. OK?”
“Yes.” She’s still buzzing with excitement, but I need to shut this down for now.
After fingering her yesterday, and this , I’m in no place to hold serious conversations. My brain to dick blood ratio is too skewed to make responsible decisions. Which is what I’m blaming this whole arrangement on.
The whole thing fills me with equal parts adrenaline and dread. If she leaves this unscathed it will be a freaking miracle, but I’m not strong enough to refuse. Something about making this good girl bad is intoxicating to me.
Shit, I never counted the corruption kink as one of mine.
She turns up the music, humming along to whichever song is playing, seemingly oblivious to my inner turmoil. The song is about love. All consuming, overwhelming love, and I’m reminded of how different we are.
Anne sings along, aching for that kind of love, while I dread any type of emotion.
Who would want to be so consumed with love that you lose yourself? That even when the love is long gone, you’re still stuck in place, no matter how much you’re suffering.
The mountain scenery fades as we get closer to home, the city skyline coming into view. I help her get her things upstairs.
“Don’t forget our arrangement,” she says instead of goodbye, and I nod. Like it would be possible for me to forget.
At home, I reopen the book I stole from her, starting from the top. Two hours and seven sex chapters later, a part of me is afraid of what lurks behind those forest green eyes.
Because if this book is any indication of her interests, I may be over my head.
God help me.