Page 84 of Almost Enough

His thumb circles lazily through the wetness between my thighs, and the sound I make is not dignified in the least.

“You’re thinking too hard,” he observes, reading me like an open book.

“I’m just…” His fingers slide inside me, pushing his release back in, and my entire train of thought derails. “Oh my god.”

“Just what?”

“Wondering if you’re actually human,” I gasp. “Because normal men don’t—oh fuck—don’t just bounce back like this.”

“I could fuck you all day, Red.” His voice is pure, unholy sin. “Mark you over and over until you’re dripping for days.”

“Oh,” I breathe, the single syllable barely audible as his fingers slip inside me again.

“Too much?” he asks, immediately gentling his touch.

I shake my head. “No. Not enough.”

The corner of his mouth lifts in that almost-smile that makes my heart stutter. “Greedy girl.”

That’s it. I’m gone. Fully, completely gone. No going back. Someone could throw me a life preserver right now and I would shoo it away. I don’t want to be saved. I want to drown in this man, and I am at total peace with that decision.

twenty-four

. . .

Whitley

Idon’t know how many times Beau’s made me come in the last few hours. It feels like at least a dozen. Every touch, every whisper, every inch of him was designed to completely wreck me. And I still want more.

It’s insane. Beau has a magic dick. Who knew?

I thought I’d be wiped out, exhausted, ready to pass out from the intensity of it all. But here we are, tangled up in his sheets, and my body still buzzing with a need that won’t quit.

He’s not pushing for more. Right now, he’s just holding me, his arms wrapped around my waist, his chest warm and solid against my back.

I roll over a little, just enough to see his face in the moonlight streaming through the window. His eyes are closed, but his jaw is relaxed and at peace.

“Beau?” I whisper.

His eyes flutter open. “Hmm?”

I bite my lip, trying to figure out how to put this into words, how to say what I’m feeling without it coming out all tangled and messy.

“Your arm has to be falling asleep under me.”

He smirks. “Nah, Red. I’m good.” He pauses, his thumb tracing lazy circles on my waist. “Just don’t want to let go of you.”

I want to laugh at how ridiculously sweet that is, but I also want to wrap myself in it. He has no idea what he’s doing to me with just a few words.

“You know, I think I’d still want you even if the sex was awful.”

He raises an eyebrow, his thumb still moving in those lazy circles on my waist. “Oh yeah?” he drawls, voice laced with amusement. “Even if it was terrible?”

I nod, trying to keep my voice casual, but I can feel the smile tugging at the corners of my lips. “Yeah. Because it’s not just about that. It’s about…everything else.”

I let my words hang in the air for a second, waiting to see if he’ll catch on. I want to tell him, without saying it directly, that I don’t need grand declarations or perfect words. I’ve seen enough in the little things—the way he holds me, the way he makes me feel safe enough to be myself.

Then, because I can’t help it, I add, “But, just so we’re clear…that was eleven-out-of-ten sex. I’m talking, A-plus, gold star, could not recommend more highly. You’ve got skills, Sinclair.”