I Want It That Way - Aguirre Ann (книги читать бесплатно без регистрации полные txt) 📗

“No, don’t close your eyes.” He locked his gaze on me, watching, savoring the helpless way I arched.

Almost.

Awash in need, I hardly knew what I was doing when my hands went to my breasts. But his ragged breathing said he liked it, and soon, the motions were for both of us. I twisted and writhed. The angle wasn’t quite right, but Ty’s avid expression said he knew—and that he wanted me screaming, every bit as much as I wanted him to lose control. And Christ, I was so close to—

With a growl, I grabbed his shoulders and pulled as hard as I could. He tumbled down on top of me, and while he was regrouping, I rolled us so I was on top. He slipped out, and we both snarled, but I swung my leg over his hips and sank down with a shivering moan. Tilting forward, I fucked him as hard as I could, no more than six strokes, and I came so hard that I took him with me; a surprise by the shocked, agonized bliss of his expression. His hands hurt on my thighs where he gripped me, but it felt so good when he held me still, so I felt each pulse, each throb.

“I think I might be in danger of dying of dehydration,” he mumbled.

I collapsed and rolled onto my side, letting him deal with the condom. He wasn’t gone long, and he wrapped his arms around me with adorable greed.

More kisses. I hoarded them like a squirrel chasing nuts around the yard. “Let me shower. Again. Then we can get a drink. Some food might also be nice.”

“Agreed.”

Once we cleaned up, he took me to a dive close to campus, where I could wear my yoga pants and hoodie without attracting a second look. I devoured a huge burger dripping with cheese and bacon without any regrets. He had steak and a basket of chili-cheese fries. As we stepped out of the restaurant, he wrapped an arm around my shoulders, and I slid mine around his waist. Our steps matched naturally, easily, on the way to the car.

The air was crisp, cold enough that I could see my breath, and the stars shone like chips of ice overhead. Ty opened my door then jogged around to his side. I love you, I thought silently. You are so fucking wonderful. I watched his profile as he drove, wishing that we could have more of this. But hey, one weekend a month was better than nothing, right? And the rest of the time I’d concentrate on work and classes.

This is actually better than a relationship that would suck up my time.

As promised, we watched the double feature of Brick and Groundhog Day. I loved his choice, and he seemed to like mine. By eleven, he was kissing my neck and hinting that he’d like to go to bed. I didn’t require much persuasion. Upstairs, I could hear my roommates tromping around as I got naked and crawled into Ty’s bed.

On a whim, I asked, “Can you tell us apart?”

He raised a brow. “Excuse me?”

“When we’re moving around upstairs.”

Ty didn’t seem to want to answer, so I tickled him until he admitted, “No idea about the others, but I always know when it’s you.”

“How?”

“A guy has a right to his secrets.” He kissed me as if to make up for refusing to answer, but there was no way I’d accept defeat so easily.

“Come on, tell me. I once pestered my mother for four hours. Believe me, I can go all night, and that’s not how you want me to direct my stamina.”

“You won’t believe me. Or you’ll think it’s cheesy.”

“Try me.” I kissed his ear like a dirty cheater.

His breath caught. “Fine. I just feel you, that’s all. If you’re anywhere nearby, I know it. I can always tell when you’re looking at me, too.”

From past experience, I could verify that, and it took some of the sting out of the name thing from earlier. Quietly glowing, I said, “I hope you’re not too tired.”

Ty gave me the most devilish smile and pushed me back. “Not remotely. I have some catching up to do.”

Then he put his face between my thighs.

CHAPTER SEVENTEEN

His hair slipped against my legs like silk in contrast to his stubbled jaw.

I’d seen bad porn where the guys got down there and motorboated, but Ty was really good with his tongue. I arched and squirmed, hands tangled in his hair, while he licked and nuzzled and teased my inner thighs. Guys before had lost interest if I didn’t come in five minutes, but it wasn’t easy to relax with someone’s head down there. But he eased his way north until I lost all sense of time. My world narrowed to his lips and tongue, the hands pressing my thighs apart and the escalating urgency quaking through me with each stroke, each lick. He was tender and patient, relentlessly wicked with his mouth. In the end, I screamed and came so hard, my legs cramped.

Once I recovered, I tried to give him a turn, but he didn’t let me.

“Come here,” he said.

He snuggled me close and held me for a good ten minutes. Then we took a final bedtime shower and managed tricky shower sex. He’d been right not to start with it, because it took some doing, and once he almost fell over. Afterward, we got into bed while I tried not to think how few hours were left. He was quiet, too. It could be that we’d done so much talking earlier, neither of us had much to say. But I didn’t think so.

“This weekend went so fast,” he whispered.

“I know.”

And in November, there would be no time for us. But what about December? Counting in my head, I figured that the end of the month wouldn’t be a holiday, as both Christmas and New Year’s fell midweek this year. I had to ask.

“So...do you have any plans for December 28?” I hoped he didn’t think the question sounded desperate, but at the idea that we had to wait two months to be together again, I nearly broke into tears.

“That weekend’s yours,” he said softly.

Thank God.

“We’ll text.” That sounded stupid, considering he lived downstairs, not in Australia.

“Soon it’ll be too cold for us to talk outside. I’ll miss it. I looked forward to it, wondering if I’d see you.”

I wished I had the nerve to suggest I knock on his door to give up a good-morning kiss before we went our separate ways, but that pretty solidly contradicted the terms of the friends-with-benefits thing. So I said nothing and curled into his arms when he wrapped them around me. The last thing I did was try to memorize how he felt, so close and warm, because I’d want to picture it through sixty nights alone. I fought sleep as long as I could.

I lost.

In the morning, Ty was subtly different. Not that he was cold or showed signs of regrets, but I could see him changing, putting away the person he’d permitted himself to be and shifting back to dad mode. As promised, he made us a couple of omelets for breakfast, and they were delicious. But after we ate, it was past ten, and I could tell he was ready to go pick Sam up. I recalled what he’d told me about spending Sundays with his son, and I didn’t imagine it was different, even on his off weekend.

To make it easier, I said, “I hope you don’t mind, but I need to get going. I finished midterms last week, but I already have assigned reading and some projects to work on.”

That was an exaggeration. I had one chapter and an actual lesson plan to prepare, but it wasn’t due until December. Ms. Parker had told me weeks ago that I’d be expected to work up a lesson that fit with her curriculum and teach a class before I left the practicum. I hadn’t spent much time on it yet, so that wasn’t a huge lie. Just a white one that relaxed him and made him feel like he wasn’t kicking me out to get back to his life.

“No, I get it. I have some work for tonight, too, after Sam goes to bed.”

So I hugged him, and Ty kissed me until my toes curled. Which I thought was a fictional physiological response, until he made it happen. When I broke away, my fingers were fisted in his shirt, and I had to make myself let go. Symbolic, huh? Then I scooped my belongings into my backpack and went upstairs. It shouldn’t have hurt, but it did. Leaving probably always would.