Page 26 of One Little Favor
“That’s right, Avery, take it all.”
She uses those muscular thighs to lift herself up, letting me slide out of her a couple inches, then sinking back down onto me so that I’m almost fully seated inside of her. She falls forward, planting a hand on my chest, then her hips are rocking forward and back as she takes me in and out of her. The feeling of those ridged muscles sliding along my bare skin, gripping me tightly as she moves, is almost too much.
She slides her hand off my chest, along my shoulder, and plants it on the bed beside my head, and I reach up to pull the elastic out of her hair, letting it fall all around her. When she dips her head to take my lips in hers, I’m acutely aware of every place our bodies touch, the connection like little pinpricks of heat—as her nipples drag along my chest, where her inner thighs grip my hips, as her hair sweeps along my shoulders, where her lips meet mine.
My chest tightens with a feeling I can’t describe because I don’t have the words for it. It’s nothing I’ve ever felt before. This whole experience with Avery is different, and it isn’t only the lack of a condom.
She pulls back to look at me and reaches out to smooth her thumb across my brow. “What’s this look?” Her words are soft, soothing, as she rides me; her breasts bounce back and forth with the movement. That hair of hers is loose and flowing around her shoulders, and her pink, swollen lips are curved up in the kind of small, private smile I’ve always wanted to see on her. It’s like she knows what I’m thinking—what I’m feeling—even if I can’t articulate it yet. I hope it means she’s feeling it too.
That heat in my chest spreads suddenly and ...shit, no!I can feel my balls starting to tighten.Nope, not happening. Not yet.
I plant my hand firmly across her lower back and hold her in place, anchored to me. With my other hand, I reach between us and as my thumb strokes her clit she whispers, “No, Tom, I can’t.”
I freeze. “Can’t what?”
“I’m not going to be able to come with you inside me.”
“We’ll see about that,” I say. I lift her up and lay her down on her back where hopefully she’ll be able to relax. I loved watching her on top of me, but if she has a hard time orgasming during sex, she’ll need to be as relaxed as possible.
Lifting her thighs up, I slide my bent knees under her legs. With this angle, she won’t need to do any work and I’ll have complete access to her clit.
“Tom, I’m too sensitive,” she warns as I stroke her with my thumb.
“I’ll be gentle, just relax.”
And then we’re lost to the sounds of our lovemaking, the slick sliding of my skin against hers, the way our nerve endings are lit on fire with our arousal, and the soft moans of pleasure she emits each time I slide inside her while stroking that bundle of nerves.
From my position above her, I watch her abdominal muscles contract at the same time I feel the muscles inside her begin to spasm with her orgasm. I hold myself off until she’s whispering my name and demanding, “Tom, now,” and then I can’t hold back any longer. I feel my release pulse into her, and I’m shocked at how different—how much better—this feels. Not just the lack of a condom, but the way my heart constricts and the way I feel like I’m pouring my feelings into her, too. Because now that I’ve been inside her, I know that this isn’t just a mild infatuation—it’s so much bigger and more dangerous than that.
CHAPTER9
AVERY
The restaurant is busier than I would have expected on Christmas Eve. I thought more people would be home celebrating with their families, but I guess that there are a lot of people here on vacation.
“Favorite movie?” Tom asks.
I don’t even hesitate before saying, “The Proposal.”
His eyebrows rise as he looks over at me. We’re seated against the far wall, next to each other on cushioned bench seating, with two open seats facing us. Given how crowded it is, I’m kind of surprised the restaurant gave us a big table like this, rather than a smaller two person table, but I’m not complaining because I’m sitting next to Tom and he can’t seem to stop touching me.
“Why?” he asks, running his hand up my thigh over the top of the dress I’m wearing.
“You haven’t seen it, or you’d know why. The sidewalk rule, Tom?” I say, and he looks at me blankly. “You have a lot to learn. We’re going to watch it as soon as we’re back in New York.”
He chuckles. “For you, okay.”
Even when I secretly pined after him and fantasized what it would be like to be with him, I couldn’t have imagined he’d be this sweet and doting. I honestly only envisioned us sleeping together, and never considered the possibility it could be more.
What does “more” look like once you’re back in New York?that annoying voice that won’t shut up inside my head asks. It’s true, we need to talk about that. Tom’s insisted that we’re not going back to how things were “before,” but how does that even work without me losing my job? And Ican’tlose my job.
“Favorite restaurant?” I ask him. We’re at least fifteen minutes into this game of sharing all our favorite things with each other, and our waiter hasn’t even returned with our drinks.
He chews on the inside of his cheek as he considers this question, but then the maître d’ approaches our table. “Excuse me, sir?” Tom looks over at him, and suddenly there’s a flash of nervous energy that feels like it’s pulsating off him. “Your guests have just pulled up.”
“Thanks,” Tom says, dismissing the man with a nod. He squeezes my knee under the table, then shifts so he’s facing me.
“Guests?” I ask. There’s an enormous pit in my stomach. I don’t want this dinner with Tom interrupted. I don’t want anyone joining us. I just want to spend this time with him. It better not be his brother and sister-in-law, because the more I’ve learned about his family, the less I want to know them—but why would they be in St. Thomas when they have their super fancy Christmas Eve party to attend in Chicago?
