Chapter 30

CHAPTER THIRTY

Margot

Jigsaw: Back in NY. Can be at your place in an hour.

Me: I'll buzz you in.

Frantic and so eager to see him, I hurry into the shower. I carefully shave my legs and smooth oil all over my skin.

After I'm finished, I take my time carefully drying my curls so they're smooth and bouncy.

Then, I pull out the sheer, steel-blue camisole I bought, hoping to wear it for Jigsaw once he got back. It came with matching shiny satin shorts, and I slip those on too. Just in case I have to run downstairs, I pull on a white-and-blue striped, long-sleeved button-up shirt.

My phone buzzes again.

Jigsaw: Here.

Butterflies flip and flutter in my stomach as I race to the intercom. I don't think I've ever missed someone this fiercely or been bubbling over with so much excitement to see them again.

Impatient, I jab the button that will unlock the downstairs back door, then open mine. Jigsaw's heavy boots thump against the stairs.

As he reaches the top, he slows his steps.

His arms are tanner than when he left but not his face. Our eyes lock and a slow smile spreads over his face.

"Aw, fuck." He stops and braces one arm against the doorframe. "Look at you." His words are low and hungry. He runs his free hand over his chin like he's contemplating his next meal. "How are you even prettier than when I left?"

"Is it this?" I tease the hem of my shorts higher.

His greedy eyes roam over every inch of me. "It doesn't hurt."

I curl my fingers at him. "Come in."

"Babe, I've been riding hard for almost two days."

"I don't care." I tilt my head. "You didn't stop home at all?"

"Nope." He hesitates, crosses the threshold and closes the door behind him. "Came straight here from Deadbranch." He cocks his head. "Some guys were as eager to get home so we rode together most of the way."

"I'm glad you weren't riding alone."

He holds out his hand. "Come shower with me."

"I just got out of the shower."

His lips tip into the cocky smile I missed. "Come with me anyway."

I can't take my eyes off of him as he unlaces his boots and leaves them by the door. While he shrugs off his cut and hangs it in the closet, I start unbuttoning my shirt.

"Whoa, what're you doing there, little lady?" He prowls closer and takes over the unbuttoning. He slides the shirt off my shoulders, revealing the sheer camisole.

He lets out a low whistle of appreciation. "Wow. I can see right through that."

"That was kind of the point."

"You get this for me?"

"Yes," I whisper.

"I like. A lot."

I've reduced him to one-syllable words.

Empowered like never before, I take his hand. "Come on. Take your shower. Give me your clothes, and I'll throw them in the wash."

"But then I'll be naked."

I glance over my shoulder. "Yes, I know."

"I like coming home to this," he says so low, I almost miss it.

Could he ever consider this his home? Here with me?

I stop at the laundry room, open the door, and grab some towels. Jigsaw moves on ahead of me, into the bathroom. When I join him, he already has the shower running. He faces me and peels off his dark blue T-shirt.

I hold out my hands for it.

He hesitates and lets out a sigh. "You don't have to do my laundry, Margot."

"Well, you said you were riding hard the last two days." I make a big show of pretending to search the bathroom. "I don't see any other clothes with you, so…"

He tosses me the shirt. "My saddlebag's on my bike. Got my stuff in there."

"You want me to go down and get it?"

He sweeps his gaze over me again. "Not dressed like that, I don't."

"Well, yeah." I roll my eyes.

"Nah, nothing in there's clean, either." He works his belt loose.

"You can bring it up later."

He nods and empties his pockets—phone, wallet, keys, some change and a crumpled dollar bill—then cocks an eyebrow and lifts his gaze to me. "You plannin' to watch me undress?"

There's a cocky challenge to his question that sends a shiver over my skin. "Oh, yes."

His shoulders shake as he pushes his jeans down, then his briefs.

"Wow," I breathe out.

Chuckling, he balls up his clothes and holds them in front of him.

"Give them to me." I hold out my hands. "I handle bodily fluids all day. Your sweaty jeans don't scare me."

He fake-retches to the side but hands me his clothes.

"Thank you." I turn to leave. "Have you eaten?"

"No but we can do that later." The shower door softly rattles as he slides it open.

I hurry into the laundry and toss his stuff into the washer. Running it while he's in the shower will probably cut his water pressure in half, but I'm hoping he doesn't plan to be in there long. Once his clothes are churning, I run to the kitchen and grab a bottle of water.

By the time I return, he's stepping out of the shower.

I lean against the door and watch him rough a towel over his hair. Every movement he makes intoxicates me with his virility and strength. He wraps the other towel around his waist. His gaze lands on me as he's tying a knot at his hip.

"You watching me, little creeper?"

"Definitely."

In two slow steps, he's standing in front of me. Water drips from the ends of his hair, running down his chest. I reach up, running my fingers through the thick, damp strands. "Your hair's longer."

"I haven't had a chance to get it cut."

"I like it," I whisper.

His mouth turns up at the corners. "Then maybe I won't bother."

"I can cut it." That's weird, isn't it? He's going to think I'm nuts. "If you wanted me to."

He seizes my wrist and brings it to his lips, brushing a kiss against my pulse point. "I'd like that."

I hold up the bottle of water. "I don't want you to get dehydrated."

Accepting it with a smirk, he twists the cap off, tips the bottle to his lips and takes several long swallows without taking his eyes off me.

He sets the bottle on the counter.

I reach up and trace a crown tattoo on his shoulder—very similar to a patch on his cut. "Your club's important to you."

"They're my family." He hooks two fingers under the straps of my camisole and drags them down my shoulders. "But family vacation time is over. Class is in session."

A thrill runs through me, followed by a pang of sadness. What if I want this to be more?

The thin material falls away from my chest, and cool air drifts over my skin. My breasts tingle as the air rushes over the tips.

He sucks in an appreciative breath. "Fuuuck."

"Welcome home, Professor Orgasms."

He squeezes his eyes shut and shakes with silent laughter. "I missed you."

"I missed you too." More than I'd ever want to admit.

"I like this a lot." He cups my breasts, rubbing his thumbs over my nipples. I shrug myself free of the camisole and it falls to the floor in a whisper.

Our eyes meet. "You plannin' to give me a proper welcome home kiss?"

In my excitement to see him, how did I not do that already? I jump and loop my arms around his neck. "Yes."

He bends his knees and gently lifts me, my naked skin rubbing against his damp skin and the roughness of the towel.

"Wrap your legs around me," he urges.

I press my lips to his first.

Jigsaw

Fire licks over my skin. Not from the blistering hot shower I just took. From Margot. This is what it's like to have someone waiting at home for you after being on the road? Someone who's excited to see me . Not a club girl hanging around to welcome all the brothers home, who will stumble into a bedroom with any patched brother who picks her. Just for me.

Gripping her thighs, I press her back against the bathroom door and lean into the kiss. She doesn't hold back or hesitate. Our lips slide and crash together in a sloppy, frenzied rush of longing. Her palms press against my cheeks and she pulls back, staring at my face like she can't get enough.

The feeling's mutual. From the cute outfit to her shiny blonde curls, she obviously took time getting ready for me. "Your hair looks really pretty," I say. It's inadequate, but the best I can come up with.

"I did my whole curl routine after my shower."

Guilt spreads over my chest. "Wish you'd waited." I pull her away from the door, grab a better hold of her, and head down the hallway.

Her eyebrows pinch together as if she's worried she did something wrong. "Why?"

"Because I'm about to mess it all up."

She laughs softly and strokes my cheek. "I don't mind."

Ah, fuck. The one thing I need, I left in the pocket of my cut. I can't let go of her, though.

"Where are you going?" she laughs as I carry her into the living room.

"Need something." Keeping one arm around her, I press her to the wall next to the closet. Her thighs tighten around my waist, and she loops her arms around my shoulders again. Where the fuck did I put them? Trying to search with one hand sends frustration burning through me. Finally, my fingers fumble over the small square box. I yank it out, put it between my teeth, and hoist Margot into both arms again.

She pries the box from my mouth and quickly scans the front.

"Just in case you're ready for lesson four." Please be ready.

She shakes the box. "Only three?"

I snort with laughter, almost dropping her as I cross the threshold into her bedroom. "Best I could do on the road."

I shove the door closed behind me, hoping we're not interrupted by a certain nosy kitty.

She unwinds herself from my body, stretching her legs to the floor. I set her down and she practically skips to her nightstand, rolling open the top drawer. With a triumphant smile, she pulls out a box eight times the size of mine.

Jesus Christ, I don't even know what to say. What a way to show me she's ready for her next lesson.

Her lips curl devilishly. "I've got you covered." She winks. "So to speak."

Awkward laughter eases out of me. It's a fucking box of condoms, not a key to her apartment. Wait—she gave me the combination to her keypad, so technically I do have the key to her place.

"Twenty-four? That's a lot of lessons," I tease, picking up the box.

"Well, I know you're a thorough teacher."

That I am. I scan the box again. "Elite large, huh?" She bought them all for me. Not someone else.

"For the longer and wider man." She stretches her hands in front of her like she's measuring a wooden beam, not a dick.

I capture her around the waist and boost her onto the bed, so she's standing in front of me, nipples almost level with my mouth. I seal my lips over one and suck hard.

"Oh!" she gasps and digs her fingers into my shoulder, the sharp pressure easing knots of tension from riding for so long.

I release her nipple and stare up at her face. "Your hands feel good on me."

"I like touching you." She tips her head down, a slight frown creasing her brow. Can she see my back from that angle? Do I even care anymore? I think I could talk about my scars with her if she asks.

"Margot?" I run my hands underneath her shorts, up silky-smooth thighs. "I'm dying to kiss your sweet pussy."

She drags her fingers through my hair, sending pleasure skittering over my scalp. "You're supposed to be teaching me to be good at sex."

"This is all part of the lesson." I tug on the sides of her slippery little shorts and slide them down her legs, hissing in a breath when I encounter nothing underneath. "Fuuuck," I groan at the sight of her.

She shifts, trying to cover her pussy with her hands.

"No." I capture her wrists and pin them to her sides. "Don't you dare try to hide. You're beautiful. I want to see all of you. I've fucking missed you. Been thinking about you non-stop."

"Really?" she whispers.

"Yes, look." I hold up my right hand for her inspection. "I've got callouses on my hand from jerking off every time I think about you coming on my tongue."

"What?" She giggles and grabs my hand as if she believes every word. I'm not exaggerating by much. Mostly, I'm trying to tell her there wasn't anyone else while I was on the road. I've only been thinking about her.

"Don't deny me." I lean in and kiss her belly. "I can't wait to touch, lick, taste, and look at every inch of your body tonight."

Why am I revealing so much about myself when she still wants me to get her primed to find another dude to fuck?

As happy as she is to see me and all the care she took before I got here, I don't think her objective has changed. "Any man worth your time..." I quickly clear my throat. "Any man you want to keep , should want to worship your body, Margot. You're the prize. Don't forget that."

I pull her shorts off the rest of the way, bending to untangle them from her feet, and her scent washes over me like a baptism—ocean air and honey.

Sliding my hand up her inner thigh, I reach her center and feather one finger along her slit. She gasps and clutches my shoulders for support as her legs tremble.

"Come on." I guide her to the edge of the bed. "Lie back for me." I kneel and slide her butt right to the edge, then hook her thighs over my shoulders.

I brush my nose against her inner thigh, inhaling her scent. She wriggles closer.

"Yes," I encourage, pleased she seems so relaxed this time. I still don't want to hurry. Pressing kisses to her thighs, I stop and run my tongue along her crease, enjoying the way she squirms. I sweep my knuckles against her slit and hum a satisfied noise. "You're so wet for me."

"I have been ever since your text came through."

"Really?" Using my thumbs, I spread her and flatten my tongue against her slit. "Did you know how much I wanted to do this?" I drag my tongue against her in several long, deep licks.

Her shaky breaths and little whimpers are all the answers I need. My cock's throbbing, desperate to finally be inside her. I reach down and tug the towel off and wrap my hand around my cock, squeezing hard at the base.

"You're so sweet," I whisper against her skin. "Been wanting to do this again."

Her legs tighten over my shoulders like she's trying too hard not to move.

"Work yourself against my face, I don't mind."

"I want…I want…" She balls her fists in the blanket.

"What?" I flick my tongue around her clit. "This?" I lick directly over it and her body jerks. "Mmm, okay." I suck her clit between my lips and slide two fingers inside her.

"Oh God!" Her hips shoot up, but she'd need a crowbar to pry me off her. I work my fingers in and out, groaning at her taste flooding my mouth.

Her hand grapples with my hair, finally pressing at the back of my head, holding me to her. Fuck yes. Hips bucking wildly, she explodes while I keep working her through the orgasm.

The need to fill her descends on me like a violent storm that I keep riding into even as electricity crackles over my skin. I need her clenching around my cock, the way she's squeezing my fingers.

She whimpers as I withdraw and reach for the box on the nightstand. While I was busy reading the stupid box before, I should've fucking opened it.

While I'm tearing through surprisingly sturdy cardboard, she moves to the edge of the bed on hands and knees. Her fingers curl around my cock. I gasp and my head falls back as she seals her lips over me.

"Fuck." My hands curl into fists, crumpling the box. Her tongue licks and flutters all along my length while I finally tear the box apart, strips of condoms flying everywhere. "Keep doing that," I rasp, grabbing one of the foil squares and ripping it open.

Pressure builds at the base of my spine.

No fucking way. As much as I'm dying to come on her tits again or down her throat, I've been waiting way too long to get to this lesson.

I gather her hair in one hand and gently tug. "Stop, baby. Please."

She drags the back of her hand against her shiny lips and stares at me with bright eyes. I work the condom on fast, then hug her to me and roll us onto the bed, landing on top of her.

"How do you want me?" I'm shaking with the desire to squeeze inside her but torturing both of us is fun too. I slide my cock back and forth through her soaked lips, groaning at how slick and ready she is.

She struggles and writhes under me. "Just…normal."

My lips twist with amusement. "What do you consider normal?"

Her face screws into a mask of frustration. "I don't know. Like this. You over me."

"Missionary." What a terrible name for such an intimate position. "Or man on top."

"What do most men like?"

Fucking hell, if I wasn't so goddamn desperate to finally fuck her, the reminder that this is nothing more than a sex lesson might kill my hard-on. "I haven't taken a survey."

"What do you usually prefer?"

No other woman exists for me right now. I can't think of anyone else when I'm with her.

And I don't think she'll find ass up, face down so there's no eye-contact all that charming.

"Just shut up and pay attention." I try to say it playfully, but it comes out more of a raspy growl.

Her eyes widen, but she doesn't look away. She drags her fingers along my sides, to my ass and back, like she can't get enough of touching me. "I think I'm nervous," she whispers.

God damn, that fucks me up.

I gather her in my arms and press kisses to her cheeks and lips. "I'm nervous too."

"What, why?"

My lips curl into a smirk and I roll my hips, sliding through her wetness again. "I've been wanting to do this since we met." I dip down and kiss her over and over. "Been waiting so long. Afraid I won't last long enough for you."

She runs her fingers through my hair and her lips curve into the sweetest smile. "I'm happy to do this as many times as we need to until you're fully satisfied."

Never. "Careful, you don't know what you're asking."

Margot

Finally, finally, finally. My heart pounds with anticipation.

Jigsaw's big body settles over mine. His chest pressing against my breasts, arms braced by my head, keeping most of his weight off me. His hard length prods my entrance and gradually pushes inside. My breath catches at the sensual stretching and filling sensation. It doesn't hurt or pinch or feel like being stabbed with a blunt instrument.

It's pure pleasure.

Unlike anything I've ever experienced.

"Are you okay?" His voice, rough with restraint, adds to the sounds of our bodies sliding together.

"Yes." I loop my arms around his neck and peer up into his eyes. "You're perfect inside me."

He dips down and kisses my cheek, then my lips. "Want more?"

"Yes." I tighten my arms around his neck, holding him to me, and kiss him back.

He presses forward, filling me completely, then gathers me closer, our skin brushing together. My nipples grazing his chest. His cock stretching me open. He withdraws, then slowly thrusts back inside, working up to a steady rhythm.

Flames lick beneath my skin, spreading through my body in waves. I arch and move against him, lifting my legs higher, hooking my feet at his back, drawing him closer.

"Good girl," he whispers, kissing my neck. "You want me in deep, don't you?"

"Yes, God. You already are. But I can't get enough."

He growls and grinds into me harder. I don't know if it's the determination in his eyes or the angle and spot he's hitting, but a harsh wave, frightening in its intensity, spreads over my body. "Oh my God," I choke, clutching his shoulders. "Jensen."

"That's right," he rasps. "Don't you ever forget who makes you come this hard."

I couldn't if I wanted to. I can't force my voice to form any words. Just moans, whimpers, and breathy cries. The pounding of my heart drowns out all other sounds.

"Yes." Jigsaw's pleased groans fill my ears as he lowers my legs and covers my body with his. He drives into me with slower, deeper thrusts. "Your pussy's so fucking tight. Your face so pretty while you're coming on my cock for me."

His lips graze my neck, and he sucks. The way he treats me is almost like this is real. Not a lesson. He captures my lips and brushes his tongue against mine, groaning with pleasure into my mouth as he finishes.

"Little lady death," he whispers through panting breaths, brushing kisses against my forehead, cheeks, and mouth. "I'm so glad you bought that bigger box."

I slide my hands over his back, touching rougher, bumpier skin than the smoothness of his glorious legs and stomach. His body freezes. I stroke my hands along his sides instead and he shakes with silent laughter.

"That tickles, you little devil." He leans down and scrapes his teeth over my nipple.

"Give me a second." He kisses my cheek again, then pulls away, our sweaty limbs sliding against each other. "I'll be right back."

I sit up and kiss his shoulder. "Thank you."

He slips out of the bedroom, and I melt into the mattress in a boneless, sweaty pile of satisfied flesh.

Based on my previous relationships, I assumed sex was something I wasn't built to understand or enjoy. It had been gross, uncomfortable, and left me feeling bottled up and sad, not euphoric and satisfied.

My body's still tingling. Little electrical zaps running up and down my legs. Sweat mists my skin and I'm not even self-conscious about being completely nude with the lights on. Jigsaw seems to love everything about my body. Never stops praising and touching me everywhere. Even my rounded tummy that never seems to go away, no matter how many calories I restrict or times I run up and down the stairs. Daniel had always been disgusted by my stomach and every other jiggly part of my body. He preferred me to leave on a T-shirt when we had sex. Slowly, Jigsaw's burning away all of those bad memories and replacing them with good ones I'll remember forever.

The door opens and clicks shut. I lift one eyelid.

Jigsaw stops at the side of the bed, naked and absolutely stunning. There's something I never appreciated in bed before, how exquisite a man's body can be.

"Look at you," he rasps, an appreciative gleam shining in his eyes. He stands by the edge of the bed and absently rubs his hand over his collarbone, staring at me like I'm a buffet and he can't decide what he wants to feast on first.

He dives into the bed, sliding his arms under my body and pulling me closer. "How do you feel?"

"Electric," I whisper, stroking my fingers over his chest. "I like your tattoos."

"Thank you." He kisses my forehead. His hand strays to my breasts, cupping one and gently rubbing his thumb over the tip.

My back arches into his touch.

"Your breasts are beautiful." He dips down to suck my nipple into his mouth. A thousand arrows of pleasure shoot straight to my center. How does he do that?

I gasp and spear my fingers through his hair.

He releases my nipple and rolls me onto my back, aiming for my other breast.

I was too anxious to ever ask before, but now I'm loose and lust-drunk. "They're not too…big or jiggly?"

He frowns in confusion and stares at me like I asked to chew on his penis like a piece of bubblegum. "What?"

I tilt my head, angling my chin toward my chest.

"There's no such thing as too big." He cups my breasts with both hands. "Fit my hands perfectly."

Even in his firm grip, they wobble. "But?—"

He lightly pinches my nipples. "They're not basketballs, they're supposed to jiggle." A wicked gleam enters his eyes. "Do I need to gag you?"

My lips push into a pout. "How am I going to learn if I don't ask questions?"

"The lessons don't seem to be sticking, though." He sits up and strokes his hand over his hardening length. "You seem to be a learning by doing type." He reaches for a condom on the nightstand and drops it on the pillow by my head.

A full-body shiver of excitement ripples over me. He wants to have sex again? "Is that normal?"

"What?"

I lower my gaze to his erection, growing larger with each passing second. "I mean, we just finished. Can all men do that? More than once a day?"

He chokes on a laugh. "I can't speak for all men." He flops next to me and strokes his knuckles over the tops of my breasts. "I'm sure with the right motivation, plenty of men can."

"What's your motivation?"

"You." He slides his hand between my breasts, down my belly, and nudges my thighs apart. "Naked and next to me. I don't need much more motivation than that."

I let out a sharp gasp as he slides one finger along my seam and over my clit.

"Fuck, you're drenched," he says like it's the best thing ever.

"I like when you're playing with my breasts." I lift my hands and squeeze them.

A feral expression plays over his face. "Yeah? What else do you like?"

My breath hitches. "When you touch me down there."

He slips his finger inside me, then slides out and teases my clit. "Where? Be more specific."

I can't look away from his intense eyes. Am I really saying these things out loud? "When you rub over my…clit."

"Like this?" He brings two fingers to the exact spot and slowly circles them.

"Oh God, yes." I squeeze my eyes shut and lift my hips.

"Mmm." He lets out a satisfied hum. "I like that too." With agonizing slowness, he builds the pressure and speed, massaging the same spot over and over like he has all the time in the world. My skin burns as my body winds tighter and tighter.

Needy whimpers spill from my lips and Jigsaw leans in to catch them with kisses. "That's it," he encourages. "Come for me. Then I'm going to teach you how to ride me." He brushes kisses over my cheeks and forehead. "Should have started there. You're going to look so fucking sexy grinding yourself on my cock."

A clear image of exactly that flashes in my mind. I want that so badly. Right now.

The tension breaks, sweet release washing over me.

He withdraws his hand. My heart's still wildly dancing in my chest. The mattress shifts.

Jigsaw's hand squeezes my thigh. "Up."

"I don't think I can move."

"You don't want to fail this lesson, do you?" he teases with a rough chuckle.

The competitive side of me forces my eyes open. He's stretched out on his back, rubbing the base of his condom-covered cock. "Come on."

I roll to my knees. The urge to cover myself wars with my love of the way he looks at my body with so much appreciation.

"How?"

His lips tilt into an amused smirk. "First of all, come closer. Throw one leg over me."

I straddle his hips. His cock slides along my cheeks and I glance over my shoulder. "I don't think that's where it's supposed to go."

Another cocky smile. "That's advanced coursework. We're not there yet." With his free hand, he motions me forward.

I brace myself on his shoulder and he guides himself to my entrance. He hisses as I slowly lower myself.

Oh my God , I almost cry from how amazing he feels at this angle. How is he so much bigger than anyone else I've ever been with, but it doesn't hurt at all?

"Now what?"

"Do what feels good." He rests his hands on my waist.

" You feel fantastic." I press my hand to his chest and slowly rock back and forth. "Amazing."

His lips kick into a teasing smile. "Are you sure you're bad at sex?"

"What?" I stop moving. "Why?"

"Because so far you're really good at it." He squeezes my hips, encouraging me to continue rocking back and forth. "Keep moving. Trust yourself. Let me see."

But the question threw me and now I've lost my momentum. He lazily sucks his thumb into his mouth and brings it between my legs. "Lean back a little."

I brace my hands on his thighs, arching my back.

"Fuck yeah." He rubs around my clit in small circular motions until I can't help but move myself against him. "There you go," he encourages.

"Oh." I gasp and throw my head back, moving my hips faster and faster. Pleasure sneaks up and explodes through me as my body pulses with glorious wave after wave.

I haven't even caught my breath when Jigsaw's rough hands dig into my hips, holding me in place for him to thrust up into me over and over. The quick strokes extend my own pleasure and I grip his forearms to hang on.

He shouts and throws his head back. Every muscle in his body strains through his release. Finally, he roughly yanks me down over him, hugging me to his chest, kissing the side of my head. He slides one hand down and pats my behind. "You're so fucking good. So fucking good," he repeats.

Glowing with pride that I've made him so happy, I kiss along his jaw and neck. His shoulder jerks and he laughs. "You're tickling me again."

Jigsaw

"I think I'm still coming," she pants against my neck.

Too drained to speak, I grin from ear to ear.

"That was…that was so amazing." She sits up and shakes her head, messy curls sliding over her shoulders. "No, amazing isn't strong enough."

She blinks at me in wonder, eyes sparkling. Cheeks and chest flushed and rosy from orgasm.

A possessive desire punches me in the chest. I'm the first one who did this to her. The only on e. And I want it to stay that way. I want all of her orgasms to belong to me from now on.

"Come here," I hold out my arm and she eagerly squirms close, resting her head on my chest. Blonde curls, soft as silk, slide over my skin. Something smoky and seductive—incense, maybe—tickles my nose.

The guy who told this woman she's boring in bed needs a slap in the face—with a hammer. Or maybe I should thank him. Otherwise, by now, she probably would've been married to some boring twatwaffle who would never appreciate the explosive passion that simmers underneath Margot's prim exterior.

Like I suspected, she responds best to gentle touches and slowly working her up to a frenzy. She really goes wild when I whisper all sorts of dirty things in her ear. And she absolutely thrives when I praise her, which I end up doing a lot because she's so fucking good at everything.

"Is it always that…intense?" she whispers, tracing a restless pattern over my chest.

I capture her hand and bring her fingers to her mouth, kissing each one. "No, it's not," I answer honestly.

The irony of her blowing my mind when she's the one who asked me to help her improve her sex game isn't lost on me.

Plenty of women have told me I'm good at getting them off, but something's different with Margot. Like she was made for me to unlock and discover. And she's uncovered something different in me .

Even if we're not fucking like the fate of the world depends on our orgasms, I enjoy being with her. Her oddball humor mirrors my own. Even the silence is nice. She doesn't seem to feel the need to fill every blank space with meaningless chatter.

"Are you staying?" she asks, with the most hesitant tremor in her voice.

"Yeah." I stroke my hand over her arm.

She snuggles close. Her breasts are pressed against my side, leg thrown over mine. Instead of panic, I feel peace.

I have no business getting used to this. Our arrangement's temporary. Fuck, I should give her a final report card now—A-plus straight down the line—before I do something dumb like get attached to her, or worse, fall in love with her. Since I'm fairly certain I'm not capable of love, it's the attachment thing that keeps me from falling asleep.

I like the weight of her soft little body next to me way too much. Her slow breaths, the rise and fall of her chest, the way she purses her lips in her sleep.

Cuddling—when I'm the one who warned her not to catch feelings—seems like a bad idea. But I can't exactly grab my jeans and hit the road. Well, I could. I can do any fucking thing I want.

And for the rest of the night, I want to hold Margot in my arms and smell her hair, apparently.