Blame it on the Tequila by Fiona Cole (the reading strategies book txt) 📕

did it wrong. Not knowing what to do but needing to do something, I pulled back just enough to whisper my plea. “Help me, Parker. I-I don’t know.”

I struggled to confess the truth when I’d been trying so hard to prove I could handle him, but I wanted this to be perfect, and I didn’t know what to do.

He pulled back; the blue of his eyes almost lost to his pupils. They flicked over my face, and I feared he’d stop, spotting my inexperience and not wanting to bother with it.

“Are you a virgin, Nova?”

Swallowing, I nodded.

“But you’ve had boyfriends.”

“Yeah,” I whispered. “But never serious or anything.”

“And they never got you off?”

I shook my head.

“A virgin who’s never come,” he muttered, but not like he was put off by it. More like he was intrigued. He pushed my hair back behind my ear, the rough callous of his fingers tracing the shell up and around and down my neck.

I shivered when his finger scraped along my collarbone until he reached the hollow of my throat and moved down between my breasts. His fingers rested there over the sheer material of my top, and he studied them like he wasn’t sure how they got there or where to move them next.

I had some ideas, and I was on the edge of not caring if I looked like a fool and begged him to touch me again—to rip the flimsy material off and shred my lace bralette underneath and just fucking touch me. I needed to be closer.

Finally, his eyes lifted back to mine and sent a jolt down to my core. Parker Callahan had never looked at me that way—no one had. With so much heat and desire—a look I only saw in movies—filled with the promise of everything to come.

His fingers drifted to my left breast, and I whimpered when he circled the hard tip.

“Has anyone touched you here?”

Biting my lip to hold back more whimpers, I nodded.

“What about under your shirt?”

I shook my head.

His lips twitched, one side kicking up into a smirk that rivaled Ash’s. He pinched the tip, making my effort to hold back crying out useless. My hips rocked without thought when he rolled the tight bud, shooting darts of pleasure to my core. Like a chain was connecting them, every brush and twist had me pulsing with need between my legs.

“Your body knows what to do, Nova, but I’m happy to help.”

With that, he went back to kissing me, dropping his hands to my hips, and sliding me back and forth. Heat burned up my neck as I imagined what we looked like. I wished I had a mirror to watch us—to burn the memory in my mind and recreate it with every medium I could find.

He wedged his length against me and started thrusting to match my rhythm. His fingers left my nipple, and I almost screamed, demanding he put it back, but I didn’t have time because the next thing I knew, he had his hand on the bare skin of my stomach, pushing up under my shirt and tugging the lace aside.

My moan was salacious and like something I’d only heard in the few videos I researched out of curiosity. I imagined them fake and overdone, but now, with his fingers on my bare skin, his palm covering my breast, I knew the moans were real and came from a place I never knew I had inside me.

“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,