Dragons Do It Nerdier (Dragon Shifters Do It Book 2) by Gemma Cates

Author:Gemma Cates [Cates, Gemma]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Published: 2021-11-18T18:30:00+00:00

15

Kaylee

I should have crashed hard. That was the kind of physical, deep-muscle tired that I’d achieved yesterday.

I’d spent twice as long on the treadmill as usual and then taken a hot shower afterwards. Lots of water and a long pour of red wine later, and I had every right to expect to awake refreshed.

Instead, I woke with the smell of a certain nerdy-hot guy in my nose. Hell, in my lungs. Like I’d huffed vanilla and sugar all night long.

Images from the night flashed through my head. Scents. Touches. It had been so real.

With my arm over my eyes to block out the light, I revisited the feel of his muscular chest and broad shoulders under my palms, the shockingly soft brush of his beard on my thighs, the delicate touch of his fingers as he touched me, stroked, rubbed… His tongue as he lapped at my entrance, then my clit…

I reached between my legs. I was so close. That I could be on the edge of orgasm without any physical stimulation… Whatever. I’d think about that after I rubbed one out.

I was drenched, my panties nowhere to be found. I dipped two fingers inside, but I still felt an empty ache.

Frustrated, I moved my fingers to my clit, picturing the bulge in Dex’s shorts. Imagining him pulling down those shorts, the smack of his hard cock against his abs, the warmth of his huge body over mine.

The feel of him, thick and hard at my entrance. The stretch as he filled me, as he fucked me. Hips thrusting, grinding against my clit, harder and—“Ohmygod, Dex! Yes!”

Several seconds—minutes?—later, I opened my eyes. I’d just come so hard, I’d blacked out. There was a good imagination, and there was seeing stars. I’d never even done that with a flesh-and-blood man, and yet imaginary Dex had managed it without laying a finger on me. I blamed it on his fictional mouth. Or his hands. No, really it was his cock.

Dream Dex had a really, really nice dick.

I snorted, remembering the size of Dex’s bulge in his athletic shorts. Because, damn. It had been so sexy, the image had imprinted on my brain. But the crazy part was that I’d apparently done some math while sleeping and extrapolated the size of his dick from that glimpse. Worse, I was pretty sure I’d come close on the girth and length. How obsessed was I that I could do that in my sleep?

I snorted again, because—who wouldn’t be obsessed? He was nerdy-hot, built, nice, kind, thoughtful, and in my dream gave amazing oral.

Damn, I’d needed that. Not the oral, the orgasm.

I laid in bed, half-comatose from the endorphins and whatever sex hormones made people happy as hell and just drifted. Not quite asleep, just insanely relaxed.

My postorgasmic euphoria was cut short by the jarring ring of my phone. Whoever was calling me at early o’clock and killing my buzz was a dead person.

When I retrieved my phone, I realized it was later than I’d thought. By a lot.

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