His grip on my hip tightens. His fingers dig into my skin as he sits up slightly, pulling me closer, pressing me against the hard length of him, making me feel how much he wants me. How much he needs me, too.

“Release on me, Kerry,” he groans, voice thick with lust. His lips brush my ear, sending another shudder through me. “Explode.”

And I do.

My body seizes, my back arches, and my thighs shake as the release crashes through me, drowning me in wave after wave of unbearable pleasure.

In his ear, I cry out his name while my fingers get lost in my overwhelming pulse as my body collapses against his, spent and shuddering harder than ever before. But Vic holds me through it, his hands tight, soothing, and worshipping me.

And when I finally come down, I still tremble, still panting against him until he cups my face and traces his thumb over my swollen lips.

“Beautiful.” He says in deep reverence. And then, smirking, he leans in, his lips a short breath away from mine. “Lesson five, complete.”

Chapter 16

Dressed to Kill… His Ego – Kerry

Ican’t believe we went there full-on touching and rubbing and dry humping the shit out of each other like we were back in high school, but we did!

And now…I think he regrets it. Well, I don’t think. I know.

Ugh, this sucks! For once, my dream wasn’t a dream; it was a replay. I went to sleep on cloud nine and woke up with emotional back pain the moment I read the note on the kitchen counter. I was so excited to start my day with the sound of Vic’s voice through the kitchen camera. I couldn’t wait to smile at his sarcastic greeting, which is really his subtly odd yet sexy way of flirting, but instead, I was met with a note.

Ms. Kind,

What happened last night can NEVER happen again.

Yep, he regrets it.

So much so that he’s barely spoken to me today. Actually, scratch that—he’s spoken to me exactly once. And if you can call that speaking, then I should be the next Nobel Peace Prize winner for restraint, because I didn’t cuss his ass out immediately.

“I’m just calling to chat with the girls.”

Not even a hello. Just straight to business.

“Oh, okay. They’re right here. Ari aced her math exam and—”

“Ms. Kind, please. I’d much rather speak to them.”

Rude. Harsh. Hurtful.

And the way he said Ms. Kind, like I was a stranger, like last night was a fever dream he was desperate to forget, sent a hot ache through my chest.

It made me feel how I used to feel years ago. Shameful. Disgusting. Unworthy.