The Dare - Elle Kennedy Page 0,94
my butt.
Hell, forget care—he doesn’t even notice. The other night when I was complaining about cellulite on the backs of my thighs, he stood there behind me and humored me for five minutes, searching and squinting and insisting he couldn’t see anything. Then he ate me out and I forgot what I was complaining about.
Great sex has a way of building your confidence, I suppose. Or maybe I’m just growing up a little.
With every stroke our voices grow louder. I fist the sheets in my hands, legs trembling, pushing back to meet his deep thrusts.
“Fuck, babe. You feel so good.” Conor reaches his hand around me to rub my clit as he urges me to my orgasm.
Biting my lip, I still can’t muffle the sound when I finally come, riding his dick.
“Hey!” Three loud knocks pound against the bedroom door. “Some of us are trying to study. Keep it down in there unless you’re going to invite us to join!”
“Fuck off, Foster,” Conor shouts back.
I stifle a laugh, which makes Conor groan through his teeth as my body clenches and shakes around him. He stands me upright at the foot of his bed, squeezing my breasts in his hands from behind, as he makes short, quick thrusts to find his own climax. Soon he’s shuddering, hugging me tight as he comes inside me.
“Why does it only get better?” he croaks, dropping his chin on my shoulder.
After he’s discarded the condom, we lie together in his bed recovering from the elated exhaustion.
“We should probably start doing this at your apartment more,” he grumbles. “I think they’re coming home earlier just to catch us.”
“Yeah, you’re going to have to make them leave so I can walk out of here. Hmmm. Or maybe we should get a rope ladder I can hang out your window.”
I like drawing little shapes on Conor’s abdomen as I lie across his chest. His muscles contract under my touch as I tickle him ever so lightly. He hates it, but tolerates it because he knows it amuses me. Then I really hit a ticklish spot and he pinches my ass as a warning not to start something I can’t finish.
“Nah, don’t sweat it,” he says in response to my escape ideas. “It’s not a walk of shame so much as a strut down the red carpet. After today, expect applause.”
I laugh. “I don’t know if that’s better.”
“Or I can threaten them.” Conor kisses the top of my head. “Whatever works for you.”
About an hour later, Foster bangs on the door again to ask if we want to grab a bite with them at the diner. I’m starving, so we take turns in the shower of Conor’s en suite bathroom and then get dressed.
“So,” I say, wrapping my hair up in a bun, “have you talked any more to your mom and Max?”
Conor sighs as he sits on the edge of the bed pulling on a fresh shirt. “No. I mean, I’ve spoken to my mom. And she’s texted me a couple times to call Max. I’ve made an excuse about class or studying or whatever. Said I’d do it later.”
“So you’re avoiding him.” I know this isn’t easy for Conor. Confessing was a huge step in the right direction, but the hard work isn’t over yet. Right now, though, his anxiety about talking to his stepfather is winning out over his better judgment.
“I keep thinking if I wait another day, I’ll figure out how to talk to him, you know? I’ll know what to say. I’m just…” He rubs his face, furiously combing his fingers through his damp hair.
“Nervous,” I supply. “I get it. I would be scared, too. But eventually it’s going to happen. My best advice is close your eyes and bite down.”
“I’m embarrassed,” he admits, leaning forward to slip on his socks. “I’ve always known that Max doesn’t think much of me, and now I’ve gone and proved him right. I knew better. Back then, I mean. I just got so angry and I fucked up.”
“That’s all you have to say.” I stand between his legs, wrapping my arms around his broad shoulders. “Tell him the truth. You made a dumb mistake that you regret, it got way out of hand, and you’re sorry.”
Conor draws me closer, hugging me to his chest. “You’re right.”
“Have they said anything about what’s going to happen to Kai?”
“I didn’t mention his name. I told Kai I wouldn’t if he left me alone. As it is, Max doesn’t want to