by Bailey B. Genre: Contemporary Romance
I’ve sworn off men forever!
Okay, not forever but for a few months. After my last hook up, my vag needs a reset because the last man to touch me broke it in the worst of ways. Not a problem, until my new dance partner comes into the picture. He’s turning into my forbidden fruit, tempting me in ways I didn’t know possible.
I have three months of celibacy ahead of me and eight weeks to whip my new dance partner into shape.
Carter drops his arms but takes my hand. The little squeeze he gives shoots a bolt of lightning straight to my vag. Forgive me, Grams!
I cross my legs because I am not an uncivilized cavewoman. I can control the urge to rip his clothes off. I can!
“Grams would probably die if she saw how hot you’ve gotten.”
Carter’s lips lift in the corners. He drops my hand and reaches for his beer. No more than five seconds pass between the time his skin leaves mine to when he opens his mouth to speak again, but I feel every pound of my heart and every ounce of nervous adrenaline pumping through my veins.
Making my intent to fuck known to a stranger is easy. But telling Carter… the guy I never saw myself lusting for, the guy who dried my tears when Jimmy Dumont—my high school boyfriend—cheated on me, the guy who rode his bike to the CVS when I got my first period to get me tampons in the sixth-grade… This takes nerve racking to a new level.
“Avery Andrioli thinks I’m hot.” He smirks.
My cheeks flush an embarrassing shade of red, but I hold his gaze. I’m not the same meek girl in high school who shied away from life. New York hardened me, shaped me into the woman I am today, and this girl knows what she wants.
I’m not leaving until I get it.
I lean forward and slide my hand up Carter’s thigh. If he’s surprised by my advance, he hides it well, holding that irritatingly sexy smirk along with my gaze. “I think you and I could have some fun tonight, if you can handle me.”
Carter chuckles and shifts to pull his wallet out of his back pocket. He drops a fifty-dollar-bill on the counter, almost double what our drinks cost.
He tangles his fingers with mine and leads me outside. Once we’re outside, Carter pins me up against the wall and presses his mouth mine, his tongue moving with expert precision, turning me into a wet mess.
Carter grips my thighs and lifts me. I wrap my legs around him instinctively, the bulge I speculated about presses against my center through his jeans. I rock my hips, moaning into his mouth while his fingers pull at my roots.
If I wasn’t so lost in his kiss, I’d be embarrassed at how close I am to coming from a little lap love and lip-locking. Dear God, I hope Carter is as good in bed as he is at kissing.
Bailey B is an up and coming New Adult author. She lives in Lehigh Acres Florida with her husband, twin girls, and two fur babies. She enjoys (but doesn't get to take part in because of her crazy daughters) the simple things like Disney+ binge watching, Netflix romcoms, reading and sleeping. She reads two to three books a week and thinks if narwhal's are real animals then unicorns might be too.