Total pages in book: 110
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 103530 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 518(@200wpm)___ 414(@250wpm)___ 345(@300wpm)
What if a staff member came in? What if they overheard me? I could get caught, without getting caught, since Matthew was with me and had the authority to be here. Plus, it was a sex resort. Anyone working here would have seen worse than a woman masturbating.
But caught was caught, and it was so fun to imagine.
There had been no comedown from the first orgasm, not even a moment of respite before another climax shocked through me. This one wasn’t as intense. A little disappointing. I wondered if I’d been overstimulated to numbness.
Nope, there it was.
I ground my hips against the machine, bracing one hand on the platform beneath me as I rode toward another orgasm.
“Open your eyes.”
I did and met Matt’s gaze.
“I want to look into your eyes while you come.” His voice was weighted down with desire, a longing I felt as a pull in my chest. Though every instinct urged me to close my eyes and focus on my body, only, I maintained that silent link with him, kept myself on the brink, and when I tumbled into that mindless abyss of pleasure, I never looked away.
It was like baring a part of my soul to him that no one else had ever seen. Even I had never bothered to watch myself come. The intimacy shook me to my core, and with a final, shattered moan, I turned off the controls and slumped over the machine.
I couldn’t look at him. What had he seen in me, at that moment? Why had letting him in this way make me feel so small and unsure, when we’d gotten to know each other so well, physically?
“Are you okay?”
If he’d learned some awful truth about me, it didn’t show from the way he gently tilted my head up with two fingers below my chin.
I nodded, hoping my embarrassed flush would read as a sexual response. “Yeah. A-OK, one hundred percent. Who wouldn’t be?”
He grinned at me. “Good point. Let me help you up.”
I was happy for the assistance he offered, because my leg muscles seemed to have lost connection to my brain. “What’s the term for sea legs you get from fucking?”
He held me with his hands at my waist, looking upward to consider. “Fuck legs is kind of unimaginative, isn’t it?”
“We’ll have to think up something.” An unexpected sob hiccupped in my throat. I forced it into a laugh and blinked my eyes. What was wrong with me? I never cried after sex. That was so gross and emotional.
You’re jet-lagged, you peanut. I stepped away from him. “You know what, that might have been a mistake, after this morning.”
He frowned in concern that made everything so much worse. “Oh?”
“With breakfast and the jet lag?” I heard a waver in my cheerful voice. Please, don’t let him notice it. “I think I exhausted myself.”
He cursed under his breath. “That’s my fault. I’m sorry. I was so caught up in having you here and all the fun stuff I wanted to do with you—”
“I want to do fun stuff!” I was quick to interject.
He went on. “I should have set a limit. Like I said before, this place can be overwhelming. Too much of a good thing.”
“You’re saying that I need to pace myself.” Something nagged at me that pace wasn’t the real issue. It was whatever had happened between us. Had he not felt how weird that was?
“I mean, if you like donuts, do you want to eat sixty of them in one sitting?” It was rhetorical, but it was a bad rhetorical.
“Yes. I love donuts and if you put sixty in front of me, I would eat myself straight into my grave,” I said without a shred of humor. I knew myself.
“Do I have to be the bad guy and set limits for you while you’re here?” he asked. “I hate to be the buzzkill.”
“You might have to be,” I admitted. “I can’t be trusted.”
He nodded in agreement. “You have tried to fuck me twice since we’ve been in the building.”
“False!” The tension in my ribs eased a little and the exposed feeling faded. “False. I tried to get you to jack off. I only tried to fuck you one time.”
“Let a man have his ego.” He planted a kiss on top of my head and turned to the machine. “Give me two minutes to get this thing sanitized and reset. Since we’re the ones who messed it up. Then I think we should go back to the house for a rest.”
I nodded and put my bikini bottoms back on, wrapping my shawl around my waist as Matt took the attachments off the machine and put them in red baggies. I wandered around the rest of the room—most of the equipment was self-explanatory—while he wiped everything down with a pungent disinfectant. He whistled a little tune while he cleaned. It made that tension in my chest come roaring back.