Page 48 of Making Over Maris

“I-I don’t know.”

Her hand crept onto his thigh. He couldn’t see it but he could sure as shit feel it. “I was stroking my clit.”

Fuck!

“And I had a vibrator wedged up inside me. I was ready. Ready to come, Jack. But I didn’t. I couldn’t. I needed you to do it for me.” She kissed his neck, nuzzled his nape. He shuddered. “But you wouldn’t. Would you, Jack?”

“Y-you should have said something.”

“I did. You missed the cue.” She made her way up the line of his chin. “Or you ignored it. I think I need to teach you to be less stubborn, Jack.” He shivered at her choice of words, at the vision they invoked. “I think I need to teach you a lesson.”

“A-a l-lesson?” He didn’t think he could take this. It was too—

She straddled him, hovering over him, buoyed by the warm water. It licked him with her every move.

“Sara,” he groaned. “You’re killing me.”

She kissed him again, this time on the lips. Her mouth was warm, fragrant, soft. “Killing you?”

“I’m trying to be a gentleman.” This, he hissed through his teeth.

“Well, who wants that?”

“This is only our third date.”

“Yeah.” She grinned and lowered her body onto his lap until the crux of her thighs pressed against his cock. He knew she was naked beneath the t-shirt. He nearly lost consciousness as every drop of blood surged to his groin, fucking pounded there. She kissed the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his neck. “Our third date. Not our first.”

“We shouldn’t do this until our fourth date.”

“Who says?”

“The internet.”

“Hmm.” She rubbed against him. Shafts of pure pleasure rocketed along every nerve. “You shouldn’t believe everything you read on the internet.”

“It-it seemed like good advice.”

She stilled. Leaned back to look at him. “Did it? Did it really?”

“Um, yes?” He hated the flicker of doubt in her eyes, the withdrawal he sensed. He wished he knew what he’d done wrong. Then he remembered the communication thing. He should simply ask her. Clearly and succinctly and right up front.

That’s what the website said. Just ask.

“Sara?” There. Surely that was clear enough.

It didn’t help. She pushed away, floating in front of him. He missed the contact. Missed it a lot.

And her flirty whispers. He missed those too.

Because now her voice was remote. Cold. It made something nasty coil in his gut. “Do you want me, Jack? Because if you don’t want me, I mean truly want me, say the word and I am gone.”

Panic flared. He grabbed her hips and yanked her against him. Rubbed her against his cock. “I want you. Feel how much I want you.”

“Then why won’t you… Why won’t you?”

His gut clenched. “I want it to be right, Sara. I don’t want a one-night stand.”

She frowned and muttered, “Right now it’s a no-night stand.”