“So what is it, then?” I ask now that we’re alone. “If it’s not watching that turns you on, what is it?”
She tries to shy away from me, but I’ve got her trapped between my body and the books. She chews at her bottom lip, and her chin bobs a few times, like she’s trying to pluck up the courage. “I just find it interesting how everything . . . works.”
I can’t hold in my laugh. “So it’s just biology for you? That’s what does it? Like watching animal mating habits in a zoo?”
Her eyes narrow, and she shoves me backward. She tries to flee, but I grab hold of her hips and pull her back against my chest. “I’m sorry. I’m not making fun of you. I swear. I just want to know what you like. It’s entirely selfish. You’ve got your list, and I’ve got mine. And knowing what it takes to get you off is right at the top for me.”
Her expression is still wary, but her hands rest against my chest now instead of trying to push me away. “I wasn’t talking about how sex works. I’ve known that since I read a disturbingly informative book in the third grade. It’s about how . . . the rest of it works. Attraction. Desire. Pleasure. I’m fascinated not just by the movements and the actions, but what fills in the blanks. What turns something from stimulating to . . .”
I’m not sure how her talking scientifically about sex is turning me on, but it is. Could have something to do with hearing the world “pleasure” come out of those plump lips of hers.
“From stimulating to what?”
“Orgasmic.”
Yep. Definitely turned on. That’s it for me. I’m fucking done for.
“So you like the idea of watching because it’s like an experiment to you? A study?” She nods. “What about doing your own experiment? To see what fills in the blanks for you?”
Lifting my hand, I run a finger down the side of her neck, and her hands clench against my chest. I cup her neck in both hands, reaching my thumbs up to glide along the soft skin of her jaw. Her body alternates between surrendering to my touch and tensing up. With each swipe of my thumbs, she wavers. But I can’t tell if she’s resisting because of nerves or because she doesn’t want this for some other reason. One of those, I think I can fix.
“I—” she starts, then cuts herself off with a deep inhale.
Gently, I rub my fingers against the nape of her neck, trying to calm her down, and she sighs. “There are some things I can be patient for, you know. On the field, I have to know just the right moment to break away from my defender. Too soon, and he’ll catch up to me before I catch the ball. Too late, and I miss my window of opportunity. So, while I do go after what I want full force, I know how to wait until the time is right.”
When I’m done talking, my massaging of her neck has her eyes half closed, but she lifts her lids enough to pin me with her gaze.
“Thanks for the football metaphor, now tell me plainly what you’re saying.”
I swallow a laugh. The way her confidence around me has grown is nothing short of stunning. If I were a more poetic guy, I’d compare it to seeing a flower bloom before my eyes. But that’s not me, so all I can say is it’s hot. Unbelievably hot. Every time she goes toe-to-toe with me, I just want more.
“I’m saying that I’d love to be the person to help satisfy your curiosity, the one to help you figure out what you like. But I won’t ask for more than you’re willing to give.” I’d like to tell her that she has control in this aspect of things, but I can’t promise that. The need to feel her surrender to me is too strong for that. But it requires trust. I need her to be able to turn off the thoughts that are always running through her head, and she won’t do that until she believes she can.
I use the hand at her neck to draw her a little closer, dipping my own head down at the same time. “So the question is,” I begin, “how much are you willing to give me, Nell?”
Her gaze flicks back and forth between my eyes, as if she might see something different in the left than the right. I draw a thumb over her bottom lip, pulling at it enough that I can feel the warm exhale of her breath on my skin. “This?” I ask her. “Can I have this?”
I lean down to take her mouth. The look in her eyes is response enough for me, but before I get there, she closes her lips over my thumb. The tentative slide of her tongue nearly brings me to my knees. Then she sucks at my finger, and just like that, she’s stolen the control right from under me.
I like experimental Nell. I like her so damn much.
Chapter 17
Nell’s To-Do List
• Normal College Thing #4: Do something wild.
• Don’t get caught.
It was an impulsive move. I had a hazy memory of him doing this to me when I was drunk the other night, and I remember that it felt like all my bones had gone liquid. My response had surprised me. Never in a million years would I have thought that such a thing could have that strong an effect on me. And I’d just wanted to, I don’t know . . . return the favor.
But now my brain isn’t blurred by alcohol, and I’m intensely aware that I’m standing in a library where anyone could walk by . . . sucking on his thumb. And I’d just admitted to a hugely embarrassing fascination for watching another couple’s intimacy, and seriously what is wrong with me? I’m such a freak.
God, I’m doing this all wrong. I don’t know how to be sexy, how to be . . . this.
Just when I’m about to pull away, Mateo’s body collapses against mine, and his teeth nip the lobe of my ear. My mouth falls open on a gasp, and his wet thumb rubs across the circle of my lips before dipping back inside.