The Bacelor: Make A Sex Deal

I liked when he softened. When he flirted. When he was so incredibly charming that I could picture myself wrapping my arms around his neck and hugging him.

“Honestly, it’s been fucking wild,” he continued. “It’ll probably be the biggest case I’ll ever work on-maybe in my lifetime. Two social media giants at war, and Hooked doesn’t want to settle. They want the world to know what Faceframe did, so they’re pushing for a trial. Declan and I have so much fucking work to do. That’s about as much as I can tell you.” He raked his fingers through his scruff. “What did I see the other day on Instagram? You won an award from your company?”Content held by NôvelDrama.Org.

“Ohhh.” I clasped my hands together. “Yeah, that.” It had been a last-minute decision to post the photo on Instagram, but Hannah had yelled at me for not doing so, so I’d caved. “I won President’s Club for the third year in a row. That award was for the highest book of business in my region, highest revenue increase within the entire company, and highest new sales in the western half of the US. In other words, I kinda blew every sales objective out of the water.”

“Hell fucking yes.” He picked up his drink and tapped it against mine. “Can’t say I’m surprised. I knew you were a badass.”

I shrugged after I took a sip. “I just love my job.”

“And you’re obviously really good at it.”

“I guess I am.”

His eyes moved around my face, like he was really seeing me for the first time. “People our age don’t say that often. They work, grind, repeat. Hannah, you, and me, we’re a minority when it comes to liking what we do.”

“And being successful at it.”

“Truth,” he said. “There’s a lot of competition out there. It’s easy to fall into the cracks. Become invisible. Stay stagnant.”

“Never.” I held the glass between my palms, waiting for the vodka to stop burning before I took another drink. “That’s not me. I’m not looking for attention, but I’m also not one who’s going to lie on my back and wait to see what comes.” When I realized what I’d said, I laughed. “I didn’t mean it that way.”

“But you did, and that’s why we’re here, Oaklyn. You didn’t lie on your back. You took matters into your own hands and told me what you wanted.” He rubbed his lips together. “There’s something so fucking sexy about that.” He went silent as he continued to gaze at me, and while I tried to think of a response, he said, “Now, the question is, do I touch you before the starters get delivered or after?”

“I think the appetizers are going to be here pretty soon, no? That doesn’t give you much time.”

“Oaklyn, Oaklyn …” He reached for my hand that was now gripping the edge of the table, pulling it toward him and flattening my palm on the wood. “You doubt my abilities, and I don’t know why.” He spread out my fingers and straightened them, and I couldn’t help but feel the stirring of tingles as he gently touched each finger, outlining them slowly, eventually going across the back of my hand. “I don’t need minutes to get you off with these fingers. I need seconds.”

He was simply running his fingertips around the inside of my hand. Yet it felt like so much more.

Air was getting hitched in my throat. Goose bumps were spreading across my skin.

But aside from making me melty, he was showing me how small this table was. Even with my arms being much shorter than his, I could easily reach his side. And when it came time, he was going to have no problem making his way underneath to hit that spot between my legs.

“You still don’t believe me, do you?”

When I went to look away, just to ground myself again and try to slip out of the sticky cloud he was keeping me in, he pressed against the center of my palm and ran his thumb to my wrist.

Whenever I got massages, they would do the same motion, repeating that move to relax the muscles in my hand.

Camden caused just the opposite.

There was no relaxation.

There was only fire.

But I wasn’t going to give in. That was what he wanted, and I just wasn’t that kind of girl.

“We’ll see tonight, won’t we?”

He laughed. A deep, almost-nefarious chuckle that vibrated through my whole body. “I want to know about your experience before me. What did it look like? How much of your body has been touched and conquered?”

I pulled my hand back and tucked it safely in my lap. “Why does that matter?”

“Because I want to know how much instruction you need. Like when your lips surround the tip of my dick, will you know how to suck it? Will you know how to swivel your tongue and how to pump your fist and what to do with my sac?”

My hand didn’t stay in my lap for long. It almost immediately reached for my vodka, and I took several sips.

Before I could even respond, he continued, “Has your pussy been licked, Oaklyn?”

I shook my head as I swallowed, overwhelmed with the firing squad coming at me. “No.”

“Those men you’ve dated, fuck, they were some selfish bastards.” He spun his glass on the table, his fingers circling the rim, reminding me of the touch he’d used on my hand and how he’d made me feel. “Did you suck any of their dicks?”

I nodded. “But not all of them-and I’ve only dated a few.” I thought back to the overnighters, the occasions when I’d been intimate with my exes. Memories that weren’t as memorable as they should have been. “If I’m being honest, I don’t know if I did a good job. I just did it, if that makes sense.”

“Did any of them touch your pussy? Or finger you?”