Page 55 of Dock

Except we didn’t have condoms.

Plus, I haven’t had sex in…years…so the more responsible thing would be to do it in an actual bed.

Actually, the responsible thing would be to do it with a guy closer to my age who wasn’t in a biker gang and that definitely wasn’t my student, but that’s just apparently asking too much!

Hogan flops onto the edge of the mattress directly on top of my baby pink crotchet blanket, hunger for me still prevalent in his expression in spite of the fact we did end up stopping at G-Street after joking about it earlier.

My back nervously hits my bedroom door as I quietly comment, “You look like you wanna devour me in two bites.”

A long, slow lick is delivered to his lips. “One.”

Whimpers are suppressed behind closed lips while my knees fight with everything in them not to sink to my hardwood floors.

Okay.

Seriously.

Should we be doing this?

Should I of all people be doing this?!

I don’t do things like this!

I am so not the wild crazy dear future me letter bullshit I shared with him.

I mean, come on.

Look around this room.

It screams I’ve got a whole Miss Honey meets Jane Austen robbed Little Red Riding Hood’s grandmother’s antique collection vibe.

It says cute and cozy and safe.

Not riding Harleys, hand jobs to bikers, having them bang you ‘til you cry or…could cry and truthfully, I’m pretty sure I would cry.

That cock?

Inside me?

The idea alone is starting to feel criminal, and not because he’s so much younger – and so much more experienced – but because it would basically be assault with a deadly weapon, and I’m not sure death by dick is how I wanna die.

Although…it would be better than any of the other scenarios I’ve come to imagine, like having a heart attack in the kitchen and my cat not caring enough to dial 911 so he can eat my face for the ultimate feast.

“Relax, Teach,” H softly commands in tandem with taking off his leather accessory. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t wanna do.”

Except I do wanna do it.

Or…I think I do.

I thought I did.

Between my tongue trying to give him a tonsillectomy and his bike demonstrating that I need a better vibrator, sex with H is all I’ve wanted to engage in since we left the dock.

Hell, I honestly thought we weren’t gonna even make it back here before that happened.

I practically begged him to bang me in the bathroom at the store – which is again so unlike me – but he insisted it’d be worth the wait.

That I’d enjoy it more somewhere I could call out his name.