Home For The Holidays - Jordan Silver Page 0,26

had nothing to do with romance. Funnily enough, I think that’s one of the main reasons I’ve fallen so hard and fast for her.

She’s arguably the first person I’ve met in my adult life that has no guile, no avarice, and does not see dollar signs when she looks at me. That first night after she left, I’d checked up on her, half expecting her to spill the beans about meeting me, at least to her girlfriends or someone close to her, but nothing, she hadn’t said a word.

For the past week, I’ve sent my car for her as soon as her last class of the day was over, and that after pacing the apartment back and forth like a caged animal all day. Missing her was like a drug. I felt as if I would go mad if I didn’t get my fix. Some days I barely let her get her homework done before taking her to the couch for some heavy make-out sessions.

I loved the fact that she was a novice. Her lack of experience showed loud and clear, and my suspicions about her virginity were confirmed. I’d guessed from peeking into her life and seeing the lack of any romantic entanglements, but until her innocent responses and the fact that she didn’t know how to play coy to get what she wanted, I wasn’t one hundred percent sure.

Each night I had to pull away, telling myself that I was giving her time. As innocent as she is, I was sure she would see giving herself to me this soon as some sort of blemish on her character, but if she wanted time, she shouldn’t have shown me this side of her. I’ve always had a streak of the masochist in me has always liked my sex a little on the dirty side.

Mostly it’s more of an act on the woman’s part. Some have even put up with it thinking that if they pleased me, I’d keep them at my side. But none of them has ever been as natural as she’d just been. Now that time, I wanted to give her for her sake, and mine has come to an end. No one who knows the real me would believe the step I was about to take. But I didn’t get where I am today by ignoring my gut, and my gut has been telling me since she walked into my office that this is the one.

She’d stiffened in my arms when I mentioned my bed, but I didn’t let that stop me. “Don’t worry, beauty; I’ll take care of you.” I’m not sure that was enough reassurance. She’s mentioned the size of my dick more than once, and I let her disrespectful belief that I’d stuffed my briefs with socks stand because the truth might send her running for cover.

I’d already made up my mind that our first time, I was going to take my time and get her heated up, too hot to care about what my monster might do to her. I, too, am a bit worried about her size. She’s by far the tiniest female I’ve ever had any interest in. In fact, up until a week ago, I would’ve sworn that my tastes ran to the statuesque model type, which is pretty much all I’ve dated in the past.

But I can’t say I’m surprised to find that everything about her rings all of my bells. Any woman who can hold my interest the way she has outside of the bedroom has got to be my one of a kind. She looked just a little bit scared when I placed her on my bed, and even that made my dick harder. I was doing my best to keep her attention away from beneath my belt though she has a warped fascination with my dick and isn’t shy about it.

The humor I usually find in her comments about stuffed socks and nerds was pushed aside by the more imminent need I had to get inside her. I gritted my teeth when my eyes fell on the pinpoints of her nipples as they pushed against her shirt through her bra that was obviously no barrier to her arousal.

My hands shook when I reached for her because I was afraid, so afraid that I would lose control, but I had to see, had to know if her reaction was a one-off and if I had indeed found the real deal, the one woman I was sure