“What? You don’t think you’re attractive?”
“Maybe when I lose a few pounds,” she mumbles quietly.
“What the fuck are you talking about?” My genuine confusion should be a clear indication that I don’t understand what she means, but it turns out it’s not so clear to her, because she keeps going.
“I mean, I used to be pretty, you know.” She brings her ponytail over her shoulder and tugs on it. “Skinny. With perfect skin and makeup and pretty clothes. But I’m not anymore.” She looks uncomfortable, shifting from one foot to the other. “I guess I never thought that when I reached my goal of becoming invisible, I might actually regret it.” Her chuckle is heavy. “And here I am, offering myself to a guy when I barely represent womankind anymore.” She looks up, blinking away tears.
It makes me see red. I’m next to her in two jumps. Grabbing her shoulders, I pull her toward me. She’s tall, but I still have to lean lower so I can reach her eyes.
“You are the most feminine woman I’ve ever seen. All this…” My eyes dart between hers. “It’s—” I’m struggling to find the right words. “It’s like you were made from all my dreams. Every piece of you.” I let my face roam around hers and dip lower. “Every single piece calls out to me and makes me want things I can’t want.” I swallow a rough lump in my throat and continue. “You are not invisible. No matter how much you try, you just can’t be. Even if you put a paper bag on. Do you understand?”
“No.” She slowly shakes her head. “Why do you say it when you don’t mean it?”
“Why do you think I don’t mean it?”
“Because I’m here, offering a casual hookup, and you don’t want it. Me.” Her eyes swell with tears again, so I pull one hand away from her shoulders, grab it, and place it over my cock. It’s hard, of course. It always is when she’s around.
“Feel that?”
She doesn’t respond, so I press her hand harder against me, and her eyes widen.
“Feel that?”
She nods.
“Yeah, I just blew my load.”
Her eyes go even rounder, and I get a suspicion that this sweet girl probably likes dirty talk.
“And here I am, hard and ready again. Because of you. You make it hard. All the fucking time.”
My dick twitches, and her fingers curl along its girth. My forehead drops on hers, and I take a deep breath. She squeezes it through my pants and gives it a lazy stroke.
A few water droplets run down her temple from her wet hair, and I watch, fascinated with how they move down her round cheek and disappear under her chin. She squeezes the base of my cock, and her hands turn explorative. She moves her hand up and traces lines with her fingers across the hem of my pants. Goose bumps run down my body, and I swallow.
“So why can’t we have sex?” Her voice is raspy.
“Because—” I need to clear my throat before I speak. “Because that’s not what you need.”
“How do you know what I need?” Her fingers keep playing with the skin above my pants, and I just want her to move lower. Right where all the blood is.
“You need someone who can go slow.” My voice betrays me, going shaky at the end.
“And you can’t?” The little witch dips a finger lower.
I don’t have the willpower to utter another word while her fingers keep grazing my head—the lower one—a gentle scrape of her nail along the sensitive skin. I don’t have any boxers on, and my dick saluted as soon as she stepped out of the bathroom. I can’t believe she hadn’t noticed the tent in my pants when she was saying all that nonsense about her being unattractive and unwomanly.
I was hard before, but dear lord, when I touched her soft shoulders, it was game over. All I want right now is to rub myself all over her.
“Mark?” she calls to get my attention, but I completely forgot what the question was.
“Mmm?”
“Can you go slow?” She pulls on my waistband and sneaks one finger in.
“I can’t.” I swallow. “I’m a rough man, Alicia. I wasn’t made for sensitive things.” My voice is scraping. “I told you this already. Even if I wanted to, I don’t know how.”
“What if I wanted you rough?”
