Blame It on the Tequila Read Online Fiona Cole

Categories Genre: Angst, Contemporary, New Adult, Romance Tags Authors:
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Total pages in book: 116
Estimated words: 111253 (not accurate)
Estimated Reading Time in minutes: 556(@200wpm)___ 445(@250wpm)___ 371(@300wpm)
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“So fucking soft,” he muttered. “Perfect. Do you like this?”

“God, yes. More.”

“Fuck, Nova. You’re going to kill me.”

“I don’t mean to,” I panted. “I want to make you feel as good as you’re making me feel.”

“Has anyone touched your pussy before?”

I lost my rhythm, jerking harder in shock and another dart of pleasure over his crass words.

He chuckled, switching his attention to my other breast. “I’ll take that as a no.”

The heat grew down my chest, and I rocked my hips faster, not knowing if I should be ashamed of how his words hit me or how I wanted to reach the elusive edge that tickled just beyond my reach.

“But you’ve touched it, haven’t you?”

“Parker, please.”

“Tell me what it feels like.”

“What?” I said on a panting breath.

“Tell me what your pussy feels like when you touch it.”

I squeezed my eyes shut and focused on his hands, on his lips pressing wherever they could reach. I focused on the pleasure and told him because maybe he liked hearing it as much as I did.

“It’s warm and wet. And so soft. Like silk.”

His grip tightened on my hip, pulling me down harder to meet his chaotic thrusts.

“It’s tight,” I whimpered.

“Fuck, fuck,” he grunted. “Just like I imagined.”

I gasped.

“Oh yeah, Nova. I’ve imagined what your pussy would feel like. What it would taste like.” I rocked harder and harder with each confession. “Have you ever touched a cock before?”

“No.”

“It’s hard but so fucking soft. The head is even softer and so fucking sensitive. I like to squeeze my dick tight and brush the tip on the upstroke. I like to swipe my thumb over the precum that leaks out. I like to imagine it’s your tongue desperate to taste me as much as I am to taste you.”

My nails dug into his shoulders, and his words drove me wild. It was too much, and I couldn’t stop my body if I tried. I had no way of slowing it down. It came at me like a tsunami—you knew it was coming—impossible to miss, but unable to stop it and not knowing what you’d look like on the other side.

“Yeah, Nova. Fuck, yeah. Gonna come.”

He used both hands on my hips, both of us bucking against each other. And when his mouth crashed down to my nipple, biting the hard tip through my shirt, I came. I exploded into another world and lost myself like a pebble in a raging ocean, at the mercy of the pleasure that consumed me. Everything blurred and only came back when Parker groaned, thrusting up. I forced my eyes open and watched his neck strain, his mouth part over each groan ripped from him only to sink into me. Each brush against me sent another aftershock of pleasure, and I never wanted to stop.

Finally, we slowed, both of us gasping for air and limp from the onslaught. I collapsed my damp forehead to his and promised myself to remember this moment forever.

“Happy birthday, Nova.”

“Thank you,” I whispered just before leaning in for his kiss.

The kiss was just as languid as our muscles—lazy and slow. Before, we’d been releasing almost a year of tension, and now, we took our time to discover each other’s mouths.

“I need to clean up,” he said with one last soft peck.

I looked down to his pants, a wet spot blooming near the zipper. “Oh.”

“Yeah, oh. These are my favorite jeans. I haven’t come in my pants in a long time.”

Something about it bubbled up, and I laughed.

“Sure. Laugh it up,” he deadpanned.

And I did until he was laughing with me.

“Want to sleep in my bed tonight?” he asked, standing up.

“Yeah, that sounds like the perfect ending to my birthday.”

“K. Let me go get cleaned up.”

As soon as he disappeared into the bathroom, I ran to my room, giddy with the thought of laying in his bed before we fell asleep. Usually, he snuck into my room after the house was quiet, but what would it be like when we were both wide awake and already giving in to our pleasure? The possibilities had me floating around my room, looking for my sexiest tank top and shortest shorts.

At least until the front door slammed and our parents’ voices reached down the hall, into my room, and ripped the night away. I heard muttering, and I just stood there frozen, unable to stop myself from playing the what-if game, imagining them having come home ten minutes earlier. What the hell were they doing home anyway?

My mom appeared in my doorway, pulling me out of my stupor.

“Happy birthday, Nova.”

“Mom, what are you doing here?”

“The event was boring, and tomorrow’s seminars were even less appealing than today’s,” she explained with an eye roll before going back to smiling. “Besides, I wanted to at least say goodnight to you on your birthday. I figured we could all go to a gallery or something and then dinner tomorrow. Maybe come back here for games. Just a family night.”



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