of mine. That’s something you don’t move on from.
“In here?” she asks, her tone slightly defensive. Guarded. She doesn’t trust me. I don’t trust her. And until that changes, the walls we’ve stacked up high over the past year will stay firmly in place.
I nod silently, dipping my head to kiss her collarbone. She arches her neck in invitation, turning her head to the side. She smells so fucking good, a combination of my shampoo and something uniquely Shayne. I slip my hand between her thighs, feeling her pussy still slick with the evidence of her orgasm. I tease her clit with the tip of my finger, working her up all over again.
“Are you going to sleep in my bed, Shayne?” I ask before catching her earlobe between my teeth, tugging. “Because I think it’s time that I get something out of this.” I throw her earlier words back at her.
Shayne shivers beneath me as she rocks into my hand, but she doesn’t give me the words I want to hear.
“Yes or no?” I ask, slipping a finger inside her. Her hands come up to grip my biceps and squeeze.
“Yes,” she breathes. “But we’re going to talk first.”
I groan, knowing that was coming, but my finger doesn’t stop pumping. “You can talk. I’ll do this.”
“You fixed my tires,” she says, trying to keep her voice normal.
“You helped Holden,” I say by way of explanation.
“You slept with Taylor,” she accuses, the hurt in her voice evident.
I pause my movements, looking down into her pools of blue. I pull my fingers from her, my hand curling around her hip. “I never fucked her. As soon as I saw your face, I made her leave.”
Her eyes widen in surprise, and the relief I see in them does something to me. I knew she thought I fucked Taylor, and I let her think that. I wanted her to. But now…now I feel like a dick.
“My turn. Aiden wants you.”
“I don’t want him.”
“I don’t want anyone else touching you.”
“Same goes for you.”
“Deal.”
“Thayer?”
“Yeah?”
“Touch me.”
“Gladly.” Pulling back, I tear off my jacket before returning to my position with my arms caging her in beneath me, palms flat on my mattress.
Shayne looks up at me, wide-eyed and innocent. “I want to touch you this time.”
Her words go straight to my cock. “Then do it,” I say, my voice strangled.
Her eyes flit down between us as tentative fingers reach out to unbutton my jeans. She tugs on the zipper, eyes widening as if she’s opening a present on Christmas morning, and then she’s pushing my jeans down.
I help her out, standing to get rid of them before I’m back between her warm thighs. “Lift your shirt.” I want to see all of her. Shayne does one better, pulling it up and over her head before tossing it onto the floor. Her tits are flawless. Two perfect handfuls, slightly fuller on the bottom, and tiny pink nipples decorated with those piercings. I still can’t believe she followed through with it, but I’m glad she did, because it’s the hottest thing I’ve ever seen in my life.
Her fingers are warm when they dip inside my boxers, and my abs tighten when they wrap around me.
“Oh, fuck.” I reach down to pull my shirt up so I can see everything happening between us. “Take me out.”
One hand tugs my boxers down while the other stays wrapped around me, then she looks up at me, as if waiting for further instruction. It didn’t dawn on me until this very second that she might not have much experience. She lived with us from the time she was fourteen until she turned seventeen, and most of that last year was spent with me. I just assumed that when she went away, she’d find some new guy to give all her firsts to.
“Have you done this before?”
“Of course,” she says with a defensive edge to her tone, like the question embarrasses her, but I don’t care either way.
“Squeeze harder.”
She tightens her grip around me, and I groan, closing my eyes. Slowly, she starts to work my length, moving her fist up and down, and it feels so fucking good. After a few strokes, she releases me, but then I look up to see her bringing her hand to her mouth. Her tongue slips past her lips to lick her palm, and then she’s wrapping it around me again.
Damn, that was hot. I don’t know if it was the move itself or the fact that it’s Shayne.