“Sexy.” He pauses. “It’s very sexy.”
My heart is still hammering, a combination of excitement and fear.
He puts his novel on the bedside table, his gaze never leaving me. The air between us practically crackles.
“Come here.” He pats the mattress.
I go and sit on the edge of the bed.
“You told me you couldn’t do this,” he says.
“I changed my mind. I want that fling. But I have to tell you something.” I swallow and fiddle with the collar of the shirt. “I haven’t had sex in three years. Actually, I’ve had very little sex in the past ten years. So, if it seems like I don’t know what I’m doing, it’s because I’m horribly out of practice.”
“Shh.” He presses a finger to my lips. “Don’t worry about that. I’ll take good care of you tonight.” He rolls me onto my back, and I melt into the pillows. “Let me take care of you.”
“Thank you,” I whisper.
Chapter 15
Courtney
Julian begins to undressme. He takes his time with the buttons on the shirt, as though each one must be undone just so. Once he’s slid the last button through the hole, he parts the sides of the shirt and looks at me reverently. Then he bends down and kisses my nipples as though they’re in need of worshipping.
“If you don’t like something, tell me,” he says. “Or if you really like something, feel free to tell me that, too.”
We’re supposed to be having a fling. In my mind, a fling conjures up images of a rough fuck against the door or over the desk—we could have done that if I’d made a move when we were in his home office yesterday.
But I have to learn about sex all over again, and I don’t think I could manage dirty and rough, not yet.
I also think I can count on him to give me exactly what I need.
He lifts up my back so he can remove the shirt, then lays me back down on the bed. I am naked now, except for my underwear, and he smiles as his gaze slides over my body. He runs his finger up my leg to my thigh and touches my wetness through my panties.
“I’ll take care of that for you tonight,” he murmurs.
He sits up and shucks off his shirt, followed by his boxers.
