CREW
My sweet littleinnocent Birdy is adorable.
Adorably sexy.
Completely teachable.
Utterly fuckable.
I can mold her into everything I could ever want, and it’s tempting, so fucking tempting, to completely corrupt her and take her virginity tonight. It wouldn’t take much. She’s so damn responsive, I know I could do it.
But I want to take this slow. I want to make it good for her. And while I’ve done nothing but that the last couple of moments we’ve shared, my sexual frustration is through the roof. I’ve never had such a raging case of blue balls in my life.
I need relief.
I can’t be too demanding though. She’ll cut and run, and I can’t have that. I need her to want me, to want to do this with me. Despite my stance on relationships and never committing myself to just one girl, I’m starting to care about her.
And I want Wren to care about me too.
From the glow I see currently in her gaze, she’s hot and bothered. Needy. She likes how I’m holding her captive, my fingers circling her wrists. Her arms above her head make her thrust her chest out and I’m dying to see those tits again. They’re perfect.
Everything about her is perfect.
I remember what my brother said. How I shouldn’t let myself get tied down by a girl. It’s not the first time he’s said something like that, and most likely won’t be the last either. I know he’s right. I’m only eighteen.
But this girl…
I’m addicted.
I can’t get enough.
I release my hold on her and roll off the bed, standing next to it. She scrambles into position, sitting up and leaning against the headboard, her gaze never leaving mine.
“You want me to strip?” I sound amused because hell, I am amused. Everything Wren does tends to surprise me.
And I like it.
She nods. “Yeah. I do.”
I reach for the front of my shirt and start unbuttoning it, undoing each one slowly, revealing the white T-shirt I’ve got on underneath. She watches me with her hungry gaze, focused on my chest, and when I shrug out of the shirt, letting it fall to the floor, she releases a soft sigh.
A chuckle leaves me. “I haven’t even shown any skin yet.”
“Your arms.” She waves a hand at me. “I really like them.”
“You just say whatever’s on your mind, don’t you?”
“Only with you,” she admits, her cheeks turning pink.
“I like it, Birdy.” I grab the neck of my T-shirt from behind and yank it off in one smooth move. “You should join me.”
“Join you how?”
“You strip too.”
“Oh.” She glances down at herself. “I don’t know. I’m self-conscious.”
“And you don’t think I am?” Well, I’m really not. The appreciation I see in Wren’s eyes is a total ego boost for one. Everyone needs a girl like Wren staring at you as if she thinks you’re a god.