The Rule Breaker - Crystal Kaswell Page 0,32

was slutty?"

"It wasn't just guys." I force my attention to the coffee. "People thought I was a shallow party girl. I started to look in the mirror and see that."

"You're not."

"Yeah, but I was spending the summer on bullshit. At these big events at the beach with classmates I didn't even like. Or at parties that went too long, with people who were too drunk."

His voice softens. "You weren't having fun?"

"At first, yeah. I needed to let off steam, with school ending. And Sean dumping me. I needed the attention. Or maybe I just wanted it. To feel like someone still wanted me. Like I wasn't too much."

"Is that what he said?"

"Yeah. He needed an easier girl. One who would support him. Who wouldn't ask so much."

"When you fucked?"

My sex clenches. "Yes, but I'm not sure that's what he meant."

"Of course it is. He wanted some chick who would go down on him every night without asking him to reciprocate."

"I haven't met many guys who'd turn that down."

"Maybe." He takes a long sip. "It wouldn't be my first choice."

"No? If I said Ollie, please, I need help getting over Sean. Can I please blow you every night for the next few weeks?"

His pupils dilate.

"You'd say no?"

"Listen, Luna, I know you're on a mission, but you gotta romance a guy first."

A laugh escapes my lips.

"Make him feel special. And not like he's just another notch in your bedpost."

"I guess you know a lot about that."

"Yeah." His gaze shifts to the window looking out on the street. "I always thought I was being fair. I was upfront about wanting something casual. Sex is fun. I make sure women come. Help them relax. Try new shit."

I don't know what to say, so I nod.

"It's not like it's personal. It's not like a woman is lacking in some way. I just can't handle more than casual."

"Have you tried?"

"Yeah. Sometimes shit has gone on too long. Started to get serious. Real. I just…" His shoulders clench. "I don't know. I guess it's different now." His gaze shifts to his coffee cup. "I have a lot to figure out. I don't want to put that on anyone."

"Are you rejecting my fake offer?"

He chuckles. "It's a fake offer."

"What if it wasn't?"

"Hypothetically? Or let's go to that single-person bathroom right now?"

"Ew. I'm not blowing someone in a single-person bathroom."

"No? Only multi-people bathrooms for you?" he teases.

"No bathrooms."

"Never?" He raises a brow, challenging me.

"Maybe… once. After some alcoholic beverages. At a party."

"Sean?"

"His birthday."

"Fuck, I really don't like him." He shakes his head.

"You wouldn't ask that? For your birthday?"

"You think I'm that uncreative?"

"You have a more creative ask?"

He nods hell yeah.

I motion go on.

"With anyone? Or you?"

"Let's say it was me."

"What are we doing in this hypothetical scenario?" he asks.

"Isn't that the question?"

"No." He refills his cup. Then mine. Like this is a normal conversation on a normal day. "Are we strangers at a party? Long-term lovers? Boyfriend/girlfriend?"

"Friends who got drunk enough they decided hooking up would be a good idea."

The playfulness drops from his expression. He gives me a long, slow once-over. Stops at my hips, chest, mouth. "It's a one-time thing?"

"Undefined."

"If I only get one chance, I'm not going to waste it on a blow job." His voice drops another octave. "I'm going to watch you come. See the way your expression changes. See your eyes fill with pleasure. Hear my name on your lips."

Fuck.

"I'm going to feel you pulsing around my cock. And I'm going to watch it happen. So, sure, we can do the bathroom at a party. But only if I've got you pinned to the counter and I'm fucking you from behind and we're both watching every second."

Oh.

Oh.

Yeah.

Pretty much all I have here is oh.

Chapter Nineteen

Oliver

Shit.

It occurs to me the second the words are out of my mouth.

I need to do something, anything to slam the brakes.

Of course, I don't.

I'm not Oliver Flynn, smart, productive, well-functioning member of society.

I'm Oliver Flynn, self-destructive fuckup.

Only I don't care. The consequences are too far away. The reasons are fuzzy.

Luna is so fucking gorgeous. Of course, I want that sassy mouth on me. Of course, I want to see pleasure spill over her expression, fill her pretty eyes, soften her neat brows.

She stares at me; her grey eyes wide, her soft lips parted.

They're not that same pinkish red anymore. Half her lipstick is on the clean white cup.

Will it stain me the same way?

My neck, chest, cock—

My sheets, shirt, boxers—

Fuck, she's still staring.

And I'm still thinking about her