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“The only thing you’d laugh about is how much better I am at it than your boyfriend.”

“He’s not my boyfriend yet.”

I don’t think he ever should be. “Just take my word for it.”

“I’ll start taking your word for things when you turn back into the Hayden I know.” She stepped closer. “The one who behaves like a best friend and doesn’t go M.I.A. just because Tinder is suing him for the umpteenth time. You should be used to that by now, so if you think I’m going to buy that excuse—”

“I’m done trying to sell it." I narrowed my eyes at her; she’d baited me. “If you want me to answer your silly-ass question, I’ll do it.”

“I want you to stop cursing at me first.”

“If you were sexting me and we were discussing your favorite positions, I wouldn’t want to waste my time with words. I’d just show up to your place, bend you over the couch, and show you.”

“Isn’t that cheating?”

“It’s better than telling you that whenever we fuck, I’m going to pull you back by your hair while sliding my cock so deep inside of your pussy that you’ll never want to fuck anyone else.” I looked over her dress again. “I’d start with that.”

Her cheeks flushed red, and she took a step back. “Um. Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

“I think I should go now.”

“I think so, too.”

Twenty

Penelope

Present Day

I stood still staring at Hayden, pinned to the spot by his heated gaze.

“The door is behind you, Penelope,” he said, moving closer.

“I know exactly where it is.”

“Then why aren’t you walking toward it?”

“Because I’m starting to think that we need to set some boundaries in our friendship.”

“I agree,” he said. “You can send me the list in an email or a text message. You need to leave my condo, though. Now.”

“I don’t want to discuss my sex life with Simon anymore.”

“You mean, your lack of a sex life?” He narrowed his eyes. “Dirty texts and dry humps on the couch aren’t sex. Then again, maybe that’s what you’ve been doing with all your boyfriends this entire time.”

“I don’t want to discuss the sex I’ve had with my previous boyfriends either.”

“I’m not a fan of talking about failure anyway.”

“In the meantime,” I said, taking a step back as he moved forward. “I want you to go back to being a good best friend and calling me.”

“It would help if you actually picked up the fucking phone.”

“I pick up whenever you call.”

“Only to ask for a raincheck.”

“You sound like that bothers you.”

“It shouldn’t.”

“So, can you please go back to being my best friend and giving me advice when I ask for it?” I said. “We have a deal.”

“We need to make some amendments first.” He looked me up and down. “You haven’t been holding up your side.”

“Seriously? I send you ten fucking letters a day—minimum. I’ve crafted over a hundred templates, and—”

“You still can’t find the time of day to see me in person.”

“So much for it not bothering you.”

“I never said that it didn’t.” He closed the gap between us. “I said it shouldn’t.”

Silence.

“This is the part where you leave my place, Penelope.” He lifted his hand and tucked a few errant strands of hair behind my ear. “Otherwise … ”

“Otherwise, what?”

He didn’t answer.

He crashed his lips against mine, sliding his other arm around my waist and pulling me flush against him within seconds.

I lost my balance as he dominated my mouth with his—taming my tongue in between breaths. I struggled to keep up with his tempo, clawing my fingers into his sides for some sense of control, but he didn’t give an inch.

My back hit the wall as he steadied me, and his cock hardened against my thighs.

Oh my god…

“Open your mouth a bit wider for me …” he whispered. “We both know that all of me won’t fit this way.”

Lost in a trance, I willingly obliged, and he trapped my bottom lip between his teeth, biting down on it so hard that I couldn’t help but cry out.

Keeping his eyes locked on mine, he freed my lip and slid two fingers inside of my mouth, slowly pushing them in and out.

I moaned as he gently grazed the back of my throat, feeling my pussy get wetter with each teasing stroke.

He used his hips to tease me with another rhythm, showing me just how good we could be.

Smiling, he slowly pulled his hand from my mouth—trailing the pad of his wet fingertips against my lips.

“Does your boyfriend make you this wet?” He slid a hand under my dress and pushed my panties to the side—strumming his fingers against my soaking wet clit. His fingers found their way deep inside of me, and I grinded against his hand.

He muffled my moans with his mouth again, pleasuring me all over at once with ease.

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