Camera Shy (Lessons in Love, #1)(102)

“Yes. But what did I tell you about compar—”

“Did she like it? Did you?” Avery interrupts, her curiosity at its peak.

Deep inhale. Long exhale. “Yes, and yes.”

“In my dream, it was really intense…in a good way.” She clears her throat, trying to fake a bravado. “I want to know how it actually feels. Do you know how to do that without hurting me?”

I nod slowly. “Definitely.”

“Okay, then, if you’re okay with it, I’d like to try that…among some other stuff.” Now her eyes hit the floor, like her brave request exhausted her and she wants to crawl back into her cave of shame.

Nuh-uh. I won’t let her. I take two strides and plant myself back on the couch. I can’t seem to control my hands. Laying her backward first, I hover over with my knees planted, one between her thighs, one braced against the back of the couch. She’s pinned underneath me, completely at my mercy.

I fight the urge to squeeze her full breasts and roll her nipple between my thumb and forefinger. I can clearly see she’s not wearing her bra, and I just want to open her robe and lay my dick between her perfect tits. But I’m trying to prove a point at the moment.

I settle for brushing her hair away from her chest and watching her ragged breathing as her chest moves up and down rapidly.

“What other stuff?” I watch her eyes dart back and forth between mine. “Ask.”

She shakes her head back and forth. “I don’t know anything else specifically,” she admits. She looks overwhelmed, so I take the lead.

“I take it you want me to choke you and pull your hair? You want me to boss you around, pin you down, spank your ass, and make you scream when you come?”

Avery blinks at me slowly, like she’s absorbing and debating. Eventually, she nods.

“When you tell me you can’t take any more”—I lean in close to her ear—“you want me to get deeper.”

She nods again.

“You want me to show no mercy and take that pussy down, while I praise you for how wet and tight you are, don’t you?”

She closes her eyes. “I never thought I’d like it when a man talks to me like this. But I like it. I really like it. You’ve turned me into someone I don’t recognize, Finn.”

I trace her lips with my fingertips. “It’s because it’s me, Avery. You trust me.”

“Yes, I do,” she agrees.

“Because you know I’m going to fuck you hard, then hold you all night after. I promise. I just want to make you feel good. None of the bullshit. You deserve better than you’ve had.”

Her cheeks turn pink as her smile spreads. I love watching her melt under my affection. This is a sexy game at the moment, so it seems a little out of place to tell her that I know she wants my heart and I’m ready to hand it over. All she has to do is ask.

“Friday then,” she murmurs.

“Friday then,” I parrot as I climb off her and grab her by the hands to pull her upright. Once she’s seated, I turn back to the bedroom, needing the shower now. My cock is as hard as steel. Even still, I pause at the door and catch her gaze from across the room. “Avery?”

“Yeah?” She’s a little breathless.

“I can’t wait to teach you what I like in the bedroom.”

She quirks her eyebrow, fierce determination painting her face. “I can’t wait to learn.”





29


Avery





“Hey, so question—do you always twitch and fidget like a mouse on crack when you get your makeup done or are you a little nervous about tonight?”

Lennox stops dabbing me with a large, round makeup brush that’s so soft it tickles. I’m being a terrible client right now and making her job difficult. She’s here to help me get ready for my photo shoot as a courtesy, and I’m distracted as hell. Guilty-faced, I look up from my phone and hold it out to her.

“I’ve been knee-deep in research for three days, and I just have a weird hunch about something. My obsessiveness is taking over, which is why I’m antsy. But it could possibly be the makeup…I’ve never gotten it done before—professionally. There were some sleepover mishaps in my younger years.”

“Let’s take a break before we put on your lashes and do your hair,” Lennox says. “How about a drink? Do you have anything good in the fridge?”

“Actually, yes. I picked up some strawberry margarita mix with you in mind, my friend. Come on,” I say, hopping up from the chair we pulled into the master bathroom. “Dex’s fridge makes the best crushed ice. Perfect for margs.”

Lennox and I have been spending more time together. More accurately, we’ve been attached at the hip ever since our girls’ day out shopping. She usually moseys over whenever she’s at Finn’s place, which is constantly. When I’m not alone with Finn or working, I’m letting Lennox teach me how to be a girl. She shows me makeup styles and is always texting me cute outfit ideas. I’m officially her life-sized Barbie doll.

The new thing I’ve learned this summer is that skinny girls have insecurities about their bodies too. Lennox has clothes she wishes she could wear, but she doesn’t have the chest or hips to fill them out. Instead, when she’s out thrifting or discount clothes shopping, she’ll pick out items she loves and bring them to me, all the while telling me how envious she is of my body.