“How’re things with Stone?”
That was the second thing Avery said to me when I walked into the kitchen after getting off work. The first had been a hello.
Since she was in there seemingly not cooking a thing, I knew what this was.
An ambush.
“Good,” I told her, being mostly honest.
Something was up with Stone. It wasn’t exactly a mystery. Since that night he’d come home from his business upset, the edginess hadn’t left him. What was worse, I’d twice run into him talking to Doc or Daz in the house in hushed voices, the air of tension was palpable.
Something was up, but it didn’t seem like it had touched Avery at all unless it was some unspoken rule that we weren’t supposed to address it. From what I knew of her and the rest of the girls, though, I doubted that was it.
Whatever was happening, she—and likely all the women—were being shielded from it as well as their men could manage.
“Well, that sounds fucking boring,” she muttered.
I actually laughed. “Should it not be good?”
“No,” she backtracked right away. “I think I’ve just been desensitized to normal. I worked in strip clubs for years, surrounded by women who honestly—I shit you not—I think they created drama because they fed on it. It’s the only explanation for some of the things that went on. Then, I got with Daz, who might be the biggest drama queen of all in his own manly-biker-way. But things have been so…quiet. The last bit of excitement before you showed was Ember finding out she was pregnant. Which was tempered by her freaking out about how Jager would take it. But even they fell into it pretty easy.
“I’m glad for you and Stone that this is happening and going well, but that doesn’t stop me from being a nosy bitch and wanting a good scoop.”
“Well, when you explain it like that, I feel the need to apologize,” I teased.
She gave a dramatic, false sigh. “I’ll survive. Especially if you spill the dirt about Stone.”
“The dirt?”
“I’m not usually a keep-it-in-the-bedroom girl, but I’ve found myself very curious about what Stone would be like. Not like I want to try it out. I just can’t get a read on him, and I’ve usually got a guy’s number as soon as I get a good look at them.”
I was pretty sure I was following, but I still found myself asking, “You mean…like sex?”
She smirked and said, “Yeah. You don’t have to share if it makes you uncomfortable.”
I appreciated that, but since there wasn’t much to share, “We haven’t had sex yet.”
She blinked at me. “Really?”
The depth of her surprise made me bite my lip.
“Sorry, I don’t mean to sound shocked. That’s actually really great. Of course, Stone’s a good guy so he’d definitely wait for you to feel comfortable with it.”
Mulling that over, I turned away from her to drop my purse and keys to the kitchen counter.
“I think I’m ready.”
There was no teasing or laughter at all in her tone when she responded, even though it was to my back, “You think?”
No. That wasn’t right.
I turned back to her. “I know.”
It was firm because it was the truth.
After over a week of being with Stone—that being, being with him in all ways without actually being with him—I knew it. I’d told him that first day that I wasn’t fixated on waiting, but I’d undersold it. I was twenty-seven. It had only been over the last couple of years that I’d found the courage to experiment with pleasuring myself, but that didn’t change the fact that I’d developed a sexual appetite. Since experiencing firsthand how much better Stone was at getting me there than I was, that hunger had grown ravenous. And being a woman of my age, a woman with a hot, talented man getting her off and sleeping beside her every night, that need was no longer satiated by his play. I wanted more, and I wanted it with Stone.
How she knew what I needed, how she understood that the statement was me fishing for advice, I didn’t know. I just knew that she read all of that and gave it to me. “Then tell him.”
It was just that simple and just that hard, wasn’t it?
“I imagine you’ve already discussed this to some degree.” It wasn’t a question, but I nodded all the same. We had, more than once. We’d even had a conversation about birth control, which was surprisingly not that awkward for me when I allowed myself to step a bit into nurse mode. “So whatever experience you may or may not have.” I felt myself flush as the indication that she also guessed I was a virgin. Was it that obvious? She went on, “He understands. What he can’t understand unless you make it clear is where you’re at right now. I’m not saying give him some impassioned speech or something ridiculous. I’m saying find a way to let him know. Honestly, there are a lot of ways that are just as effective with a man as any words would be.”
She was right. How I would communicate it would take some thinking, but Avery hit it right on the head. Stone had made it clear that he wanted to wait for me. Now, he had to understand that there was nothing to wait for now.
If I wasn’t up for communicating that, then I wasn’t actually ready, was I?
“Thank you,” I told Avery.
“Anytime.” She grinned, no doubt reading that I was already half lost to her, making plans. It was time to send a message.
“Fuck, bunny,” Stone groaned.
He was leaning back against the headboard, and I was straddling his thighs. It had felt like a bold move to climb on him like that after changing into the nightie I’d donned for us to go to bed, but it wasn’t my doing.
No, I couldn’t be held responsible for being forward at this point.
See, I’d hatched my plan to communicate what I wanted.
It wasn’t a particularly complex plan, but I wasn’t well versed in seduction. Step one was digging through the boxes I hadn’t entirely unpacked in my room when I got home for the nightie I was wearing. It was sheer except at the breasts, barely made it past my hips, and was all around sexier than the plain cotton ones I usually slept in. I’d had it for over a year, buying it on clearance on a whim. Until that night, I’d never even worn it. However, it was the sexiest thing I owned.
When I’d walked out of the bathroom, it was obvious in an instant that Stone agreed.
He’d looked at me for a long moment before he’d actually growled, “Get over here.”
Thus, phase two of my plan had commenced. This being the part of the plan where specifics dried up. All I knew was that I needed to get Stone worked up enough to stop treating me like an innocent virgin—even if I was one.
Hence, the bold, jumping-on-his-lap move.
I was pretty sure it was working, what with his latest comment and the fact that his hands came right up to cup my behind.
No. Jeez, that sounded exactly like the sweet, virginal girl I was trying not to be.
My ass.
He used his grip to tip me forward, and I let him lean me into his chest. Knowing what he wanted, I jumped in to kiss him first. Already, I could feel the hard length of him beneath me, and I circled my hips against him as I teased his tongue with mine.
His fingers dug in, and I reveled in the feeling. I might have been making things up as I went, but his reactions led me to believe I was succeeding.
I kissed him long and deep, then pulled back to nip at his lips before going in again. His hands started to roam over my body, the thin fabric somehow making his touch even more potent. Which only made it more noticeable when his hands suddenly stopped on my ribs.
The change was so abrupt that it drew my attention from kissing him and made me lean back. His gaze dropped to his left hand at my side, then I felt it move.
I also felt the distinct scratch of the tag as he grabbed it from beneath my arm.
Damn.
Tags left on clothes? Definitely not sexy.
Before I could figure out how to get him to ignore it and get us back on track, his hold tightened, and he ripped it off. His eyes tracked the tag before coming to me.
“So, this thing is just for me?”
He sounded…pleased.
“Yes.”
At my response, he gave me a salacious grin that I felt like an actual touch between my legs.
Okay, so he absolutely liked the nightie.
Since bold seemed to be working, I decided to put it all out there, even if it scared the bejeezus out of me.
“I wanted tonight to be special,” I whispered, resisting the urge to blow out a relieved breath that I hadn’t stumbled on the words.
“Why, baby?” he asked, his eyes and hands moving all over me.
Here goes nothing.
“I want you to make love to me.”
Again, his hands halted. This time, I felt his whole body tense, too.
Not great.
“Bunny—” he started, but the words blurted out.
“I know you’re trying to go slow and take care of me. I appreciate that, but I’m ready. I’m ready to take that step in general, but, more importantly, I’m ready to take it with you.”
Those gray eyes stayed fixed on mine like he was searching for some tell that it was all false bravado. Although there was an undercurrent of nerves pulsing through me, I knew he wouldn’t see any doubt because it wasn’t there. I was ready for this. My only fear was that he’d turn me down right here.
Bold had been working, so I threw in one more move for him. Shimmying back on his lap, I brought my hands to the hem of the nightie and swiftly pulled it up and off. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been naked in front of him before, but he had always been the one to undress me until then.
When his eyes didn’t leave my face, I felt the fissure of fear shaking my confidence. I’d expected more. I’d expected something from him other than…
The thought was gone from my mind when he flipped me onto my back, pinning me there with his legs still between mine. His eyes were dark, his face ravenous, and it made heat explode through me.
“Tell me you’re sure, Evie. Tell me you’re certain you’re ready for me to have you.”
Even as he made his demands, he was thrusting against me, pleasuring us both through his boxers and my panties. It wasn’t near enough.
“Please, honey,” I mewed.
He didn’t let up that torturous roll of his hips, but he took it no further. “Not good enough, bunny. I need the words.”
And with that, he gave me one final card to play.
Avery had said there were a lot of ways to communicate that were as good as words, but that didn’t mean words weren’t powerful.
Without any hesitation, not an ounce of anxiety holding me back, I decided to give him the clearest message I could.
“Fuck me, Stone.”