She jerked in my arms, trying again to free herself. I wasn’t letting her go anywhere. I rolled us again, landing between her legs, the length of my erection solid against her soft heat, wanting more than anything to get inside.
I framed her face with my hands, chasing her eyes with mine. “Really?”
Her eyes glued to my shoulder, she mumbled, “Not with someone else.”
I couldn’t stop a groan at the picture that invaded my head. Hope naked, one hand between her legs, the other cupping her breast, working her clit as she pinched her nipple and moaned my name.
My hips jerked against her. It took every ounce of control I had to stay where I was. Fucking hell. Fucking, fucking hell. I had to see that. Not today. Not for a while, probably. But eventually. Fuck yes. For now—
“Do you want to do it again?”
Her eyes went so wide I thought they’d pop out of her head. I hadn’t expected to laugh, but her shocked look was so adorable I couldn’t do anything else.
“Again?” She shifted beneath me and froze, suddenly aware of my erection. “But you, don’t you want me to—?”
So fucking adorable.
I almost said it, but I didn’t think she’d find the situation as cute as I did. Pissing her off was the last thing I wanted. Not now that I’d had her. Hot, wild, giving me everything.
Hope was wound up so tight most of the time, but when I got my hands on her, she was all mine.
“Next time, Buttercup. This time was all for you.”
“But, don’t you—” Her teeth sank into her lip. “I don’t know what to do. I mean, I do, but I—” She squeezed her eyes shut.
Fucking adorable, but I had to put her out of her misery. When I was a teenager, skill and experience had been a turn on. Skill and experience could always be a turn on, but I’d learned they weren’t necessary. Not in the face of Hope’s brand of honest passion. I didn’t need technique. I didn’t need her to know what she was doing. I just needed Hope.
“Not this time. Next time I’ll show you what to do. For now, I’d better get in the shower and down to the office before Cooper and the guys come looking for me. I’ll make coffee. You can sleep a little longer. Alice won’t be here for an hour or two.”
I rolled off the bed, not missing the flash of skin as Hope scrambled to pull up the sheet. I wanted to count every freckle. Her eyes scanned me, jumping away after they landed on my cock comically distending the front of my boxers. Her teeth sank into her lip again, her cheeks so pink.
Eventually, she’d get used to this. As far as I was concerned, she could take her time.
Eyes squeezed shut, she said, “I don’t need you to buy me clothes.”
“Hope, look at me.” Her gaze fixed studiously on my face. Fighting a grin, I said, “I need to buy you clothes.”
Her eyes got squinty. “Because you don’t want to see my ugly suits?”
“Do you want to wear those suits? Honestly? If you could wear anything you wanted, that’s what you’d pick? Because if you really like them, wear them. Go out with Alice, take my credit card and buy ten more.”
“I don’t get it. I don’t know what you want.”
“I want you to be happy,” I said. “I want you to be Hope. I want you to pick clothes you like. Because they make you feel good. Not because you think I like them or they’re appropriate. Fuck appropriate. Fuck what anyone else likes. I can’t set you free, Hope. I can’t change the past. There are so many things I can’t do for you. But I have money, and I can do this. Alice loves to shop and she loves clothes. She’s also fun, and loyal, and a great friend. Let her take you shopping. Let me do this.”
Hope stared back at me, clearly still confused, but she nodded her head. I disappeared into the bathroom and started the shower. The second I stood under the hot spray, I closed my soapy hand around my cock and squeezed, starting a slow rhythm, water beating down on the top of my head, my brain filled with the memory of Hope’s orgasm.
The heat of her squeezing my fingers. The taste of her skin. I haven’t come that fast since I was a teenager. If I hadn’t needed to get to a meeting I could have done it again before the hot water ran out, just thinking about Hope moving beneath me, lost in pleasure.
Chapter Twenty
Hope
I pretended to sleep until Griffen quietly let himself out of the apartment. Cowardly, I know, but I needed a timeout. I’d had no idea. No clue. I couldn’t believe I told Griffen I’d never done that with anyone else. I was thirty-one years old, for God’s sake.