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Page 44
“Um, are they?” I wonder what exactly is on all those boards and how embarrassed I should be that he’s looking at them so intently. I pick up a fork and break off a piece of pancake then look at Sawyer. “So what does my pussy taste like?”
“Seventy-three seconds.”
“What?” I ask, popping a bite of egg into my mouth.
“It took you seventy-three seconds to ask what your pussy tastes like.”
I roll my eyes in his face. “So you toss out commentary on my pussy flavor and expect I’m not going to ask? You’re a tease.”
He swallows and shakes his head. “No, I fully expected you’d ask. I just had my money on it taking three minutes.”
“Tease.”
“It does taste a bit like Diet Sun Drop.”
“Stop it!”
He holds up his hands and shrugs. “It does. Diet Sun Drop and Everly.”
“Not an answer.”
“It is. Sunshine, citrus, and a great cabernet sauvignon.”
Well, that was an answer, and specific enough to have me blushing again. I drop my face to the plates spread before us and take in his boring egg white omelet.
“Why are you eating that?” I ask. “If you were any fitter I wouldn’t be able to walk today. Surely you can handle a pancake?”
He pats his abs, clearly on display since all he’s wearing is a pair of grey sweatpants, and the movement distracts me. “I’ve gotta stay fit to keep up with my younger girlfriend.”
“Do you typically date younger women?” I’m curious.
“No,” he says, then pops a grape into his mouth. “I haven’t dated a student since I was a student, I can tell you that much.”
“Why does my brother want you to stay away from me?”
“Eric?” he says, as if I have more than one brother. He looks confused by my question for a second then nods. “Look, Eric and Finn are four years younger than I am. They grew up asking me for advice. They got all their best moves from me. Hell, those little shits used to listen through the walls when I brought my high-school girlfriend up to my room—”
“Eww!” I plug my ears. “La, la, la, stop talking. I do not want to know any of this about my brother.”
He stops and smiles, a dimple flashing in his cheek, mirth lighting up his eyes. “I’ll talk to Eric.”
I shoot him a look to kill and he clarifies.
“I’ll talk to Eric and tell him how much I like you, platonically. I’ll tell him how much I enjoy you, and make sure he understands I’m not using you for mind-blowing sex. It’s just a bonus.”
I shake my head. I am never winning this. “Can we be done talking now?”
“Why? Did you want to have more of the mind-blowing sex?”
“No, I’m too sore.” I shift my bottom on the bed and cross my legs.
“Really?” His face flashes a look of surprise and he eyes me up and down. “Fuck, that’s hot.”
I ignore him and shove a piece of pancake into my mouth.
“So my performance put your worries to rest?” His lips twist in amusement.
I blink for a moment before all of my fears from the night before come flashing back to me. I have to force myself to swallow the pancake because I’m already laughing. “I was genuinely getting myself worked up,” I agree, and I snort, I’m laughing so hard. Then I cover my mouth, the snort so funny to me tears leak from my eyes.
His head is tilted in fascination, watching me laugh.
“Yes, you’re good at the sex,” I say, composing myself. “I was worried,” I admit, “you’re too good to be true.”
“Seventy-three seconds.”
“What?” I ask, popping a bite of egg into my mouth.
“It took you seventy-three seconds to ask what your pussy tastes like.”
I roll my eyes in his face. “So you toss out commentary on my pussy flavor and expect I’m not going to ask? You’re a tease.”
He swallows and shakes his head. “No, I fully expected you’d ask. I just had my money on it taking three minutes.”
“Tease.”
“It does taste a bit like Diet Sun Drop.”
“Stop it!”
He holds up his hands and shrugs. “It does. Diet Sun Drop and Everly.”
“Not an answer.”
“It is. Sunshine, citrus, and a great cabernet sauvignon.”
Well, that was an answer, and specific enough to have me blushing again. I drop my face to the plates spread before us and take in his boring egg white omelet.
“Why are you eating that?” I ask. “If you were any fitter I wouldn’t be able to walk today. Surely you can handle a pancake?”
He pats his abs, clearly on display since all he’s wearing is a pair of grey sweatpants, and the movement distracts me. “I’ve gotta stay fit to keep up with my younger girlfriend.”
“Do you typically date younger women?” I’m curious.
“No,” he says, then pops a grape into his mouth. “I haven’t dated a student since I was a student, I can tell you that much.”
“Why does my brother want you to stay away from me?”
“Eric?” he says, as if I have more than one brother. He looks confused by my question for a second then nods. “Look, Eric and Finn are four years younger than I am. They grew up asking me for advice. They got all their best moves from me. Hell, those little shits used to listen through the walls when I brought my high-school girlfriend up to my room—”
“Eww!” I plug my ears. “La, la, la, stop talking. I do not want to know any of this about my brother.”
He stops and smiles, a dimple flashing in his cheek, mirth lighting up his eyes. “I’ll talk to Eric.”
I shoot him a look to kill and he clarifies.
“I’ll talk to Eric and tell him how much I like you, platonically. I’ll tell him how much I enjoy you, and make sure he understands I’m not using you for mind-blowing sex. It’s just a bonus.”
I shake my head. I am never winning this. “Can we be done talking now?”
“Why? Did you want to have more of the mind-blowing sex?”
“No, I’m too sore.” I shift my bottom on the bed and cross my legs.
“Really?” His face flashes a look of surprise and he eyes me up and down. “Fuck, that’s hot.”
I ignore him and shove a piece of pancake into my mouth.
“So my performance put your worries to rest?” His lips twist in amusement.
I blink for a moment before all of my fears from the night before come flashing back to me. I have to force myself to swallow the pancake because I’m already laughing. “I was genuinely getting myself worked up,” I agree, and I snort, I’m laughing so hard. Then I cover my mouth, the snort so funny to me tears leak from my eyes.
His head is tilted in fascination, watching me laugh.
“Yes, you’re good at the sex,” I say, composing myself. “I was worried,” I admit, “you’re too good to be true.”
