Kiss and Don’t Tell

I can’t sleep. No matter what I do, I can’t seem to shut my brain off.

The last forty-eight hours have been an absolute roller coaster.

I spent the day with Pacey.

I kissed him—me, I kissed him, I made the first move.

I spent another day with him and his friends and fell for the man over and over with every word that came out of his mouth.

Then I slept with him curled around me for a good portion of the day and it was . . . the best feeling I’ve ever felt.

Then I freaked out because I shouldn’t be feeling things like that about a man I just met.

Then . . . hell . . . then Josh texted me.

Yeah, Josh.

Apparently, he needs to talk to me about something. And he kept texting back after my replies. I’m finally in a healthy state of mind and completely over him, so why is he texting now? Why is he trying to throw me for a loop?

And on top of that were my emotions—dredged up, I know, because of Pacey’s migraine—about my mom.

Things have gotten complicated.

Then Pacey said he was leaving. And I said I was leaving.

Then Pacey said he wants to date me. I think he’s insane for wanting to hitch his wagon to this hot-mess express.

Then I kissed him again because apparently, I have no willpower.

And now I’m lying here, alone, in my bed at one thirty in the morning, with nothing better to do than stare at the ceiling because my mind won’t stop racing, thinking about a man I can’t seem to forget. And it’s also racing, thinking about a man I’d rather forget.

I roll to my side and pick up my phone, pulling up the text thread with Josh. The last thing I ever expected was to receive a text from him, from the man who left me feeling empty and alone at the most devastating moment of my life.

I read our exchange, still trying to wrap my head around it all.

Josh: Hey, Winnie, it’s Josh. Not sure if you deleted my number after everything we went through. I wanted to reach out and see how you were doing.

I didn’t respond to him right away, because what was I really supposed to say to that? I decided to ignore him because I didn’t think he deserved my attention. But then he texted again.

Josh: I probably deserve your silence. I didn’t handle things very well with you and it’s one of the biggest regrets I have. I’ve been doing some work on myself and I really need to see you. I need to talk to you, in person. Please tell me you’re open to at least seeing me.

I’m not sure if it’s because I was in a weak state of mind, or if it’s my personality to be nice to people even when they’re assholes to me, but I texted him back.

Winnie: Hey, Josh. I still have your number, even though I probably should’ve deleted it.

It’s all I could stomach writing, but it opened the lines of communication.

Josh: That’s really fair. I’m grateful that you didn’t. How are you?

Winnie: Doing okay.

Josh: I heard about your mom and the bookstore. I went by the old storefront the other day and a pang of sorrow blasted through me. I fucked up, Winnie, big time, and I need to see you.

Winnie: I don’t think that’s a good idea.

Josh: I can understand your reservations. I wasn’t very kind to you toward the end of our relationship.

Winnie: You made me feel less than I am, Josh. You left me when I needed you most. You made me second-guess my beauty and put a dent in my self-esteem.

Josh: There’s no excuse for how I treated you, none at all. Despite what I was going through, there’s no reason for me to have treated you the way I did, and I’m really sorry, Winnie.

Winnie: Going through? You were going through something?

Josh: It’s why I want to talk to you, in person. It’s important, Winnie. I can meet you wherever you want to meet. I’m in Vancouver now, but I can drive down to wherever you are now. Just let me know when and where, and I’ll be there.

I haven’t responded to him yet.

I honestly don’t know what to say to him, because if he was truly going through something and I wasn’t there for him, that would make me feel even worse than I already do. But what would Pacey think if I met with him? I know Pacey lays no claim to me, at least that’s what I’m assuming—not sure after the conversation we just had—but Pacey thinks very lowly of Josh. I know he’d despise me talking to him because of the damage he knows Josh caused me.

This is all such a mess, and one of the reasons why I just need to leave, to clear my head, to start fresh.

And the worst part of this all is I feel as though my mom has taken a backseat to this entire mess. It’s why I decided to pay Uncle RJ a visit tomorrow. Because despite Pacey and Josh floating around in my head, I know one thing for sure—I’m getting that trophy, even if I have to peel out of his driveway, unbuckled, hair whipping in the wind. I’m getting that trophy.

As for Pacey, I have no idea what the future is going to bring, if he’s really going to want to date me, like he said. He’s going to have a lot on his plate with whatever is going on with his head and the upcoming season. Sure, two and a half hours seems doable now, but what about when the season starts? It’s all just so up in the air.

But that kiss . . .

“God,” I mutter while snagging my pillow and putting it over my face, preparing for the scream of frustration that wants to pop out of me.

Ding.

I still.

Was that my phone?

I lift the corner of the pillow and glance toward the lit-up screen on my bed.

That was my phone.

God, please don’t be Josh. Please don’t be Josh.

I move my pillow to the side, reach for my phone, and see there’s a text . . . from Pacey.

Thank God.

I quickly unlock my phone and read his text.

Pacey: You up?

Oh yes . . . I . . . am.

I flip onto my stomach, prop my pillow under my chest, and text him back.

Winnie: Yup. Can’t seem to sleep. I’d ask if you’re up, but I’m pretty sure you are, unless you’re really good at sleep texting.

Pacey: Nah, I’m up. I think all my daytime sleeping fucked me up.

Winnie: Yeah, it was that long nap that killed me too.

Lies. All lies, but he doesn’t need to know that.

Pacey: Then talk to me. Tell me something. Anything.

Anything? Hmm, well, my ex-boyfriend, who you like to often call a tool, texted me today, asking if he could talk to me, that it’s important, and a crazy part of me is actually thinking about meeting up with him.

Clearly, that’s not what I’m going to say.

Winnie: Anything?

Pacey: Yes, anything. Hold nothing back.

I give it some thought. I push Josh to the back of my mind, because he doesn’t deserve any space in my head, not right now. And because I can’t stop thinking about that kiss, I say . . .

Winnie: Not to boost your already inflated ego, but you’re easily, hands down, the best kiss I’ve ever had.

And that’s the scary truth, why being with Pacey is so terrifying. I know he’s special. I know he could possibly be what I’ve been looking for, what my mom would want for me.

Pacey: What made it the best?

Winnie: It was the way you made me feel.

Pacey: And how did I make you feel?

I think on it, bringing the kiss to the forefront of my mind, letting myself get lost in the moment all over again.

His strong body gripping me tightly, not allowing an inch between us. The controlling way he claims my lips so I can’t focus on anything except him. The softness of his lips, the light strokes of his tongue, the deeply masculine scent of his cologne. He’s intoxicating.

Winnie: Claimed. Owned. It was how you gripped me. How your lips roamed mine. How you put your body into the kiss, your entire body. You made me drown in need.

Pacey: Confession—you’re easily the best kiss I’ve ever had, as well. Hands down, no competition. I can’t stop thinking about your lips, the soft moans from the back of your throat. Fuck, Winnie.

I feel a smile lifting the corners of my mouth. And just like that, I get lost in Pacey, in his words, in the bond we share.

In his honesty.

Winnie: What made it the best?

Pacey: You weren’t putting on a show for me.

Winnie: What do you mean, exactly?

Pacey: Given my profession and celebrity status, in the past, women have just been extravagant in their kissing. Trying too hard. Acting overzealous, trying to prove something with their mouths. Not with you. It was genuine. There was passion, there was need, but you also captured me with a hint of innocence in your touch. Everything about it turned me on.

Winnie: Me too.

Pacey: If you were in my bed right now, would you be saying this to my face?

Winnie: Probably not. Text messaging gives you an ounce of anonymity. More confident behind the keyboard.

Pacey: Okay, if that’s true, then tell me, if you were in my bed right now, what would you be doing? Would you just want to snuggle?

Winnie: Knowing me, I probably would snuggle, but be burning inside to do more.

Pacey: Like what?

Winnie: Draw circles down your abdomen.

Pacey: How far would you go?

My face heats up. I’m sexting Pacey Lawes right now, actually sexting him. I’ve dreamed of sending naughty texts before and I did once with Josh, but he never went along with it. So, I’ve never tried again. But from Pacey’s response, from his questioning, I can tell he’s open to it. At this point, what do I have to lose? I need to get lost in the moment and just . . . enjoy.

Winnie: To just above the waistline of your briefs. And then I would pull back up.

Pacey: Fucking tease.

Winnie: I would circle around your nipple and then slowly rotate my finger across every one of your abs until I hit the waistline again . . .

Pacey: Fuck. I can feel it. Would you slip your finger past the elastic?

Winnie: For a second, but then pull away.

Pacey: I would be hard as stone, begging for you to go farther.

Winnie: I wouldn’t, not until I repeat the process as least three more times.

Pacey: Three? Fuck. Then what?

Winnie: When I finally reach your waistline, I would push your briefs down just enough to expose your cock.

Good God, I wrote cock. I bury my head in my mattress, my cheeks burning from embarrassment. But then he texts back.

Pacey: And then?

Winnie: With my index finger, trace your length to the very tip and then pull away again.

Pacey: Goddamn it, I’m hard. Right now, fucking hard. I want your finger on my cock, Winnie. Your whole goddamn hand. Your mouth.

He’s so dirty. I love it. I shift to my side as I feel a dull pulse start to throb between my legs. I’m just as turned on from the mere thought of doing something so salacious to Pacey and him letting me.

Winnie: I would make circles up your abs again, but this time, I would smooth my leg over your legs while doing it, drawing closer to your body so you could feel how hard my nipples were.

Pacey: Would you be naked?

Winnie: No, but at your request, I’d take off my shirt.

Pacey: I would DEMAND you take off your shirt.

Winnie: I wouldn’t want to disappoint you, so I’d sit up, look you in the eyes, and take off my shirt, exposing my bare tits to you. I would revel in the way you took me all in.

Because I’m feeling extra spicy and because Pacey instills such bold confidence in me, I turn on my nightstand light, flip my phone to camera mode and drag down my tank top so my breasts are almost entirely exposed, leaving just my nipples covered. Leaving my face out of the picture, I send it to him.

Pacey: Holy fuck . . . Winnie.

Winnie: I’d climb on top of your legs, loving the way you reach out and slowly roll my nipple between your fingers, and I’d pull your cock out to rest it on your stomach.

Pacey: I’m so goddamn hard. It’s painful.

Winnie: Bracing my hands on either side of your hips, I’d lower my head, and starting at the base of your cock, I’d drag my tongue up your length until I reached the tip. Then I would suck on the head.

Pacey: Winnie . . .

Winnie: Jesus, Pacey, I’m so turned on right now. I’m throbbing.

Pacey: Are you touching yourself? Like, I’m gripping my cock right now.

Winnie: No. But I need the relief. What would you do to ease the ache between my legs?

Pacey: Why don’t you come here and find out?

Winnie: Why don’t you tell me?

Pacey: I’d start with demanding you strip for me. And then stand in front of me, naked, so I can see just how goddamn sexy you are. You’d twirl for me, and then I’d spread you across the bed.

Winnie: Would you force me down?

Pacey: Only because you let me.

Winnie: Would you spread my legs?

Pacey: I wouldn’t be able to stop myself.

Winnie: Would you want to taste me on your tongue?

Pacey: Fuck.

Pacey: Yes.

Pacey: Your pussy would be my goddamn feast.

I moan out loud as my hand inches down to my pajama shorts. I don’t really know what I’m aiming for, but I just know I need something. A touch. Something to stop this terrible aching.

Winnie: Would you

God, this is embarrassing. I don’t even know if I can orgasm. How do I ask for something when—

Pacey: Would I what?

Winnie: Would you help me orgasm?

Now I feel stupid. I’m sure he’s ready to turn off his phone and bolt. I bet no other woman has ever asked him that because they don’t even know if they’ve orgasmed before.

He doesn’t respond right away, and because I’m way out of my comfort zone, I think about retracting that last text, but then my door opens and Pacey pushes through, shutting the door behind him.

Standing in the barely lit room, Pacey is wearing nothing but a pair of athletic shorts that prominently display how aroused he is. His chest rises and falls and his hair drapes over one eye as he stares me down. There’s no mistaking what he wants.

He wants me.

The image in front of me is carnal.

The man before me is everything I want. Everything I need.

I set my phone on the nightstand and sit up in bed, letting the comforter slide down my body, exposing the way my nipples are pebbled against my shirt.

“Stand up,” he says.

The deep, demanding tone of his voice has me lifting from the bed, ready to listen for his next direction.

“Take your shirt off.”

Adrenaline pumps through me and as I reach for the hem of my tank top, my hands shake. I grip the hemline tightly and, with one smooth pull, bring it up and over my head, allowing the fabric to slip out of my hand and drop to the floor. When I find the courage to look Pacey in the eyes, he doesn’t meet my gaze; instead, he’s dragging his hand over his mouth, taking in my chest.

“Shorts. Off. Now.”

I slip my thumbs into the waistband of my shorts and push them down. When they hit my ankles, I toe them away and stand in front of Pacey with nothing but my hair in two braids.

He deliberately gives me a once-over, starting with my legs, moving up my abdomen, to my breasts, and then connecting with my face. He takes a step forward and I feel a bout of chills roll up my spine.

Another step and my mouth goes dry.

One more and I watch him push down his shorts, as well. I take a deep breath and allow myself to take in the beautifully sculpted man in front of me. A powerful chest pushes and pulls with his deep, turned-on breaths. His abs contract as my eyes land on them, and his erection sits thick between his two powerful thighs, enticing me. Begging for my touch.

With two more steps, he closes the distance between us. My skin tingles with excitement as he moves one hand to my hip and slowly drags it up to my waistline and then to the underside of my breast. I suck in a sharp breath when his thumb drags over my hard nipple. A wave of arousal pulses through me and pools between my legs, thumping, spiking every sensation inside me.

I can feel my heartbeat in the base of my throat.

I can taste my need on the tip of my tongue.

And I can hear my needy breath with every rise and fall of my chest.

“This body deserves to be worshipped,” Pacey says as he rolls my nipple between his fingers. “Tell me what you want, Winnie.”

“You,” I answer, so quickly that it’s almost embarrassing.

His other hand falls to my inner leg and drags upward until his finger glides along my slit, feeling my arousal.

“That’s evident,” he says right before bringing his finger to his mouth and sucking on the long digit.

Fuck. Me.

“But what do you want me to do?”

Insecurity fills me as I shake my head. “I . . . I really don’t know. I haven’t done much.”

His eyes soften and he moves in even closer. “Where do you need me the most right now?” He brings both hands to my breasts and plays with my nipples, rolling them, teasing them. My legs tremble beneath me. I let out a moan from the depth of my throat. “Do you want me to pay attention to your tits, make you come by just playing with them?”

He can do that?

“Oh God,” I say as, at that moment, he pinches my nipples, sending a bolt of pleasure through me.

Letting go, he brings his hands to my cheeks and lowers his mouth to mine. Right before his lips meet mine, he whispers, “Or do you want me to fuck your mouth with my tongue until you feel your arousal drip down your legs?”

His mouth descends upon me and I grip him as he lowers me to the bed so my body is completely splayed out on the mattress. His large body hovers over mine, his erection rubbing against my bare skin.

When he pulls his mouth away, he moves down my body, dragging his fingers over my breasts, my stomach, and to the top of my pubic bone. “Or do you want me to play with your clit?”

I barely have enough time to suck in a sharp breath before he parts me with two fingers, and with the other hand, he moves his thumb over my clit.

“Oh fuck,” I say, draping my hand over my eyes. “That’s . . . oh God.”

“Mmm . . . I think you want me right here, don’t you, Winnie?” His mouth descends and pulls at my nipples, then travels up my neck to my mouth, where his tongue demands entry, and then drags his seductive tongue down the column of my neck and to my breasts once again. “That feels good, but you want my attention on your clit, don’t you?”

“Y-yes,” I breathe out as my legs part even wider for him.

“Mmm, I like that,” he says. “Greedy with wanting more. Can you spread even wider for me? Can you pull your knees against your chest?”

“S-sure,” I answer, feeling more exposed than I ever have before. I grip my knees, and when I look at Pacey, he’s wetting his lips as he stares down at me.

“So fucking beautiful.” And then he’s lowering his head between my legs.

“Pacey, I never . . . this is—”

“Shh.” He brings his mouth to my clit and hovers there for a moment. “Fucking amazing.” His tongue peeks out and connects with my clit.

All at once, it feels as though every muscle in my body pulls to the center between my legs. A sensation so wildly erotic that I forget to breathe as he strokes again.

And again.

And again.

“Oh my God, Pacey,” I moan.

“You taste phenomenal,” he whispers before lapping his tongue against my clit, again and again. “I could spend all fucking day here.”

He pushes at my legs, helping me hold them where they are as he moves his mouth over me. Twisting, turning, dancing his tongue. My muscles pull, my nerves bundle.

A sensation builds inside me, blooming in the pit of my stomach and then hammering out over my limbs. This tingling, floating, effortless sensation that I can’t quite explain other than it’s pulling all the focus away from everything around me and zeroing in on what Pacey is doing.

The walls start to close in, the room fades to black, and my pelvis begs—screams for more as the pleasure builds and builds.

Rolling through me.

Pulsing.

Throbbing.

Drumming.

His tongue pulls more and more.

My body goes numb.

“Pacey, oh my God. Oh . . . oh my God!” I scream. I’m loud, my moans reverberating off the walls, but it’s too powerful, it’s too consuming.

His tongue.

Oh . . . fuck.

White-hot pleasure rips through me, forcing my back to arch. My legs slip from my hands, but Pacey keeps them still as I come.

I come hard.

My pussy pounds against his lapping tongue as he draws out my orgasm.

“Pacey . . . oh my . . . God,” I say breathlessly as the roar of my climax subsides.

He kisses my clit and then slowly and carefully lowers my legs to the mattress.

I bring both my arms over my head as I try to catch my breath. Oh. My. God. I’ve never . . . felt that before. I’ve clearly never had an orgasm. All these years . . . Oh dear God. That was the most incredible feeling of my life. I feel so sensitive everywhere. I feel so . . . incredible.

Hoarse. Feverish.

And a little angry that Josh never gave me that.

His lips press kisses along my heated skin, up my stomach, to my breasts, and then he hovers at my mouth. Intimately, he leans down and presses a kiss to my lips.

“See how good you taste?” he asks. “So fucking good.” He moves his lips to my jaw, and down my neck, and then to my breasts. “These tits belong in my mouth.” He grips my right breast and sucks in my nipple. My chest arches off the bed as my hand falls to his hair. My fingers sift through the long, wavy locks as he teases and plays with my breasts.

His rock-hard length rubs against my leg as he continues to focus on my pleasure. He must be painfully hard, but instead of taking care of his own needs, he’s focusing on me. He’s making me feel like a queen. He’s allowing me to seek out my pleasure rather than chasing after his own orgasm, his own needs.

“Pacey,” I sigh, my body melting into the mattress as he moves to my other breast. “You make me feel so good.” I drag my free hand down his chest and past his abdomen, until my fingers connect with the tip of his erection. A deep hiss escapes his lips and he drops his head to my chest for a second.

“Winnie, you can’t do that.”

I smooth my fingers over the head. It’s the lightest of touches, but it seems to carry a heavy impact, because his hips thrust into my hand, his cock a stone, his skin like velvet.

“Winnie . . . hell.” He thrusts again and I quickly become addicted to the feel of his cock in my hand, seeking out his own climax.

“I want you, Pacey.”

He lifts up so he can look me in the eyes. “I want to fuck you, bad, but I want to make sure you get what you need first.”

“You did. I have. And now, all I need is you, inside me.”

And that seems to be all he needs to hear, because he pulls away, reaches for his shorts on the floor, and pulls out a strip of condoms.

I raise a playful brow at his assumption.

He smirks at me. “Don’t plan on getting fucked only once tonight, Winnie. I know once I’m inside that sweet pussy, I won’t be able to stop.” He rips open one of the packages and, as he maintains eye contact, he slides the condom over his length, his teeth biting into his lip. He rests his hand at the base and squeezes. His chest contracts as his abdomen hollows. His body strains—the muscles in his arms, the veins in his neck, the need in his cock. I’ve never seen anything so sexy.

“On your beautiful stomach, now.”

It takes me a second to register what he’s saying, but when it does, I flip to my stomach, and I feel him come up behind me.

“That’s it.” He smooths his hand over my ass. “So fucking fine, Winnie. Do you know that? You’re so goddamn fine. I crave your body, your shape, your curves. You’re so my fucking type and it’s painful I’ve waited this long to get inside of you.” He moves his hand up my back and gently pushes my head down into the mattress. “Just like that.” He guides my ass into the air and stuffs some pillows under my stomach. “Are you comfortable?”

“Yes,” I breathe out heavily, anticipation rocking me.

“Good.” He brings his hands to my ass cheeks and spreads them. “This perfect little hole.” His thumb passes over it. “Fuck, do I want to have fun with it.” Arousal beats through me. “But that’s for another day.” His hand must go to his cock because the next thing I feel is his girth rubbing against my slick pussy. “God, you’re so fucking wet, Winnie. Tell me I turn you on.”

“So much, Pacey. I want you. Inside me. More than anything.”

“That’s what I want to hear, but I need you to beg for it.”

“Pacey.”

His hand connects with my ass, and I let out a muffled scream as my pelvis tilts higher and arousal pools between my legs.

“Holy. Shit.” I brace my hands on the mattress.

He tests my pussy again with his cock, and I hear a satisfied sound come out of him. “You like it dirty, Winnie.” He slaps my ass again and a long, tortured moan falls past my lips. “That’s it, baby. I can feel you throbbing against my cock. How close are you?”

I swallow hard, unable to answer.

He slaps my ass again.

Pleasure vibrates through my bones.

“Fuck, Pacey.” I grip the comforter. “Close.”

His hand smooths over the sting and I mentally beg him to do it again. When have I ever mentally begged for a man to spank me? Never. This is new. It’s thrilling. And I want so much more.

“I need this pussy,” Pacey says as his thumb glides over my entrance. “I need it really fucking bad.”

“Then take it,” I say as his cock glides up and down my slit.

He groans and then pushes himself in an inch.

“Oh, Jesus,” I say, while taking in a big breath. His hand connects with my ass again, catching me off guard, and he slips in deeper at the same time. I let out a feral moan. I clench around him and he lets out a moan as well. “Pacey, I’m going to come. I’m right there.”

“Not yet. Do you understand me?” He moves in another inch. “You don’t fucking come until I tell you.” His thumb rubs over my asshole and I clench around him again.

“You fucking like that. You want my cock there, don’t you?”

I swallow hard, because just the thought of his finger there turns me on.

“We got time for that, babe.”

He smooths his hand over my left ass cheek and then pulls back and lays down another slap.

“Oh, fuck,” I groan, my pussy clenching tightly around him.

“Yes, Winnie.”

“Pacey,” I cry. “It’s too good. I can’t hold on.”

He stills behind me. “Winnie. I’ll pull out right fucking now. Do not come. Do you hear me?”

I bite on the side of my cheek and squeeze my eyes shut, trying to not think about how delicious Pacey feels sliding inside of me. Long, thick, commanding. He has my ass in his hands, guiding himself inside, taking what he wants, but also giving me everything I need.

“Fuck, I can’t hold out,” he says, and drives his cock all the way inside me, hitting me in a spot I didn’t know existed. Spasms erupt deep within me and I try to take deep breaths to ward them off, but it doesn’t work.

“Pacey . . .”

“I know, baby,” he says soothingly right before he pumps his hips against me. He’s not slow about it. He’s demanding. His thrusts rock me forward, sending a jolt through my pelvis.

Relentless.

Powerful.

Consuming.

He pumps into me, thrust after thrust, pushing me further and further to the edge, where I teeter but never fall.

“Your cunt is so tight, so perfect. Shit, Winnie.”

His fingers dig into my skin. His breath matches mine, seeking air. The sound of his legs, slapping into mine, over and over—it’s so erotic, so electrically charging.

“Fuck, I’m close,” he groans.

“I’m right there,” I say.

And then the crack of his hand against my ass has me coming violently all over his cock.

“Oh God, Pacey,” I yell as my body contracts. My insides all pull to the center, and I black out completely. I hear him groan. His cock swells, I contract around him, and then his chest presses against my back as he holds on to me and comes.

“Fuck . . . fuck,” he yells as he grips my sides tightly. “Oh shit, Winnie.” He stills and then slowly sinks against me as his breathing slows, and we both lie there, unmoving, as our bodies recover.

His lips land on my back as he presses small kisses across my shoulder.

“Are you . . . okay?” he asks, still breathless.

I smile into the mattress. “More than okay.”

He presses another kiss to my shoulder and lightly against my cheek. “Let me clean up. I’ll be right back.” As he lifts off me, he drags his hand down my back, across my ass, and he gives it a very, very light swat.

I chuckle against the comforter and then just lie there, completely satisfied.

So that’s sex.

No. That’s what sex is supposed to feel like. With two orgasms. Two. Orgasms. Now I know what I’ve missed out on. For years. With and without Josh.

After a few moments, Pacey comes back. He helps me off the bed and I quickly go to the bathroom to take care of business, not bothering with turning the light on. Instead, I tiptoe back into the bedroom, nervous to see if Pacey is getting dressed to leave, but when I find him lying in bed, the comforter pulled back, waiting for me, I bubble with giddiness.

“Get that sweet ass over here.”

Normally, I’m not one to walk around naked. After sex, I’d normally slink out of bed and cover up before heading to the bathroom. I would change into pajamas and call it a night. Strutting across the room wearing nothing is new for me, but I’ve never felt more confident. And it’s all because of the man waiting for me in bed.

I slide in under the covers next to him. His arm goes around my shoulders and his hand lands on my bare ass as he pulls me in closer. I tilt my head up, and he looks down at me at just the right time. He leans in and presses a sweet, gentle kiss to my lips. When I go to pull away, he presses his hand to my jaw and, with his thumb, tilts my chin up, granting him more access. I melt into his touch, in the dominant way he handles my body.

His kisses slow down until he presses a kiss to my nose, and I cuddle against his chest.

“I need more time with those lips.”

“Have them whenever you want,” I answer.

His finger draws small circles on my backside as he says, “I cancelled my flight for tomorrow.”

“What?” I ask, sitting up to look him in the eyes. “Pacey, you need to see the doctor.”

“I will.” He chastely kisses me. “But I figured I could drive to Vancouver with you, after you visit your uncle.”

“Pacey—”

“Hear me out.” He shifts so I can look him in the eyes. “It doesn’t matter if I see the doctor first thing in the morning or the next day, so long as I get there. And I want to be there for you after you see your uncle, even if you don’t think you need the company. I know it’s not going to be easy and would rather be there to hold your hand, than know that you’re alone, by yourself, sad or upset.” He shakes his head. “I wouldn’t be able to stomach that.”

“So, you want me to drive to Vancouver with you after?”

“Yeah, and if you’re up for it, maybe stay with me for a few days.” The hope in his eyes cripples me. “I can show you around.” His voice is vulnerable, as if he’s nervous of my answer.

“That’s kind of a big ask. Are you sure you want me to stay with you?”

He chuckles. “I wanted you to stay with me before I showed up in your room. After what we just did, I’m not sure you have much of a choice.”

My body is thinking the same thing—not sure I’ve much choice after the two orgasms he just gave me.

I drag the tip of my finger over his lips. “You know, I didn’t think sex could ever be like that. So consuming and carnal. I didn’t think I could get enough of you.”

“I sure as hell didn’t get enough.” He kisses my lips softly. “And I don’t think I’ve ever come that hard, Winnie.”

Shyly, I ask, “You’re not just saying that? I mean, I know you probably have more experience than me, so I wasn’t sure—”

“I wouldn’t lie about shit like that. Your pussy is fucking magic.”

I laugh. “Maybe it was all that spanking . . . my pussy needed a good lesson on sex etiquette.”

“Nah, you knew exactly what you were doing and you had me coming a lot sooner than I wanted.”

“You wanted to last longer than that?” I ask in surprise.

“Fuck yeah. Babe”—he looks at me, and God, I love that little nickname—“the longer I could keep driving into your tight cunt, the better. You have no idea how it felt being inside you, as if your pussy was made for me.”

My cheeks flame.

“But since it was that good, I had no chance at lasting.” He scratches the side of his face. “Kind of embarrassing.”

“Maybe you can try harder next time, then,” I tease. And I am teasing. I’ve only ever been with Josh, and he never lasted as long as Pacey just did. And Pacey thought that was embarrassing.

“When I get feeling back in my legs, I fucking will.” He settles back down on the pillow and hugs me close. “Damn, Winnie, you’ve fucking rocked my world.”

I could say the same exact thing about him.