Total pages in book: 94
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Estimated words: 95340 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 477(@200wpm)___ 381(@250wpm)___ 318(@300wpm)
Brodie puts his mouth on my pussy, licking it clean.
Sucks a bit, spreading my thighs with his shoulders the same way he’s done a few times before and while it feels absolutely incredible, it has me pausing.
I look down, watching him.
God that feels good, do I actually want him to stop?
Yes—because he’s going to make you come and you’d rather come with his dick inside you…
I tap his shoulder. “Please,” I moan. “I want you inside me.”
His head gives a shake.
No.
Was that a no?
It can’t be.
“Please.” I wriggle my hips, wanting him so bad…burning with desire. The more he holds out, the more I want it and, “I can’t take it anymore. Please Brodie.”
I beg, saying his name out loud, hating this feeling just a little.
He looks up at me, his eyes dark with desire as his mouth kisses my pussy. “Lizzy we can’t.”
“Why? Don’t you have any condoms?” But I do because a lady is always prepared.
Never leave it up to a man when it comes to your sexual health, my mother always says.
“Right.” He clears his throat, clearly uncomfortable. “I don’t have condoms.”
“I do.” I watch him, propping myself up on my elbows.
His brows furrow in confusion, his lips parting in surprise. "Just let me make you come, okay? I know you like it.”
My lips part. "I want to make love to you."
Now here’s the thing; I hate saying shit like that. We’re obviously not in love. But I can’t say the words ‘I want you to fuck me,’ that feels crass too in this moment—even though that’s exactly how I feel. And I can’t say ‘I need your dick inside me,’ cause I don’t want him to feel used.
So I go with ‘I want to make love to you,’ and hope like hell he doesn’t think it means I’m in love with him, although the feelings I have for him are real.
“Lizzy… I can’t.”
Can’t?
“Why do I feel like you’re rejecting me?” What could I have possibly done wrong?
“I’m not rejecting you.” He sucks in a breath. “It’s not you, it’s—”
I hold up my hand to stop his next words. “Don’t you dare say it’s not you, it’s me or I will vomit all over your quilt.”
“But it’s true.” He leaves the space between my legs, coming up to join me on the bed. “It is me. This has nothing to do with you.”
“How can this have nothing to do with me? I’m the only other person in this room.” I pause, brain reeling.
He finds me attractive, I know this. That cannot be the case. He gets hard when I touch him, it’s not hard to make him hard.
He’s not in a seminary (we have one at this university) and he isn’t a monk and from what I can tell, there has been no vow of chastity.
“Are you waiting for marriage?”
“No!” He’s vehement. “I just…can’t have sex.”
“What do you mean you can’t have sex? That makes no sense.
You can get hard, I don’t understand what you mean by can’t.”
“I mean—I know my dick gets hard. I just…can’t have sex.”
I press my fingers to my temple and pray for patience. “Please start making sense, Brodie, before I lose it.”
He takes in a few deep breathes.
Let’s them out.
Says nothing.
I can see him struggle so I put a hand on his forearm. “You don’t have to make excuses. I get it and it’s fine.”
I move, wanting to be alone. Not wanting to be naked anymore, feeling vulnerable and confused and rejected. And wanting to go home to my own house and my own bedroom to sort out these feelings since he clearly isn’t in a state to explain himself.
Which is fine.
He should do it at his own pace; I won’t force him.
I grab my thong from the couch at the foot of his bed and step into it, ready to leave.
“Fuck, Lizzy—don’t go.”
I look over at him. “Right. But we can’t sit here staring at each other and you’re not telling me what’s on your mind so I think it’s best if I go. We can talk later.”
My pronouncement is followed by more silence.
Then, “Lizzy I can’t have sex with you because I’m a virgin!” He doesn’t shout it but it’s close; a desperate attempt to keep me here.
Instantly, I stop putting on my top.
Turn to face him, doing my best not to gape at him.
He’s a what now?
“Stop it, Brodie.” It’s not funny.
“I’m being serious.” He moves, sitting up and tightening the knot in the towel. “Why would I lie? I’m a virgin, Lizzy.”
CHAPTER THIRTY-SIX
BRODIE
The look on her face…
Not exactly how any of this played out in my mind, not that I envisioned telling her in the first place.
My nerves got the best of me and here we are.
Her eyes are still widened in surprise, that mouth I’d been kissing only minutes ago form a silent 'o' as she processes my confession. For a heartbeat there’s nothing but silence lingering in the air—and of course, one of my roommates loudly coughing from somewhere inside the house.