Dream Spinner (Dream Team Book 3) - Kristen Ashley (bearly read books .txt) 📗

about me. It’s about you.”

“It’s about you now.” She lifted a hand my way, shook her head and said, “And don’t. I don’t mind. Honest to God.” She dropped her hand and asked, “You’ve been living with that man now three days, and he hasn’t done you?”

“We make out. A lot,” I told her, or more aptly, all of them. “He touches me. A lot. He’s very affectionate. All the time. It’s sweet. He kisses me before he drops me off at work. We make out in the doorway of his room before I go to bed in his bed. He sleeps on the couch. And last night, after dinner, before work, while watching TV, we cuddled on the same couch and eventually started necking. But he hasn’t even tried for second base.”

“What?” Ryn.

“Really?” Pepper.

“Whoa.” Evie.

“I know.” Me.

“I’m outta here.” Mag, from where he stood behind the couches.

Mag then took off.

“Have you tried for second base?” Lottie asked.

“Second base?” I parroted, confused.

“Gone for his package. A man gets the message real quick when you grab his dick,” Lottie explained.

That was the girl take on second base?

That seemed a third-base maneuver, totally.

“I’m just going to … tell them we’re good and we’re leaving with the dress,” Nancy murmured, lips tipped up, as she walked away.

“Uh …” was my answer to Lottie’s question.

“She hasn’t,” Ryn said under her breath to Pepper.

“I’m kind of …not assertive like that,” I shared.

Lottie put a hand to her hip, hitched out that hip, and returned, “Well, sister, you wanna get laid, you better get assertive. You led that boy on a long, drawn-out chase. No shade. Just sayin’. But translation for a dude with a brain and a keenly honed capacity for sensitivity who’s into the chick who led him on that chase, he’s not gonna jump you, push you or pressure you. He’s gonna read you and wait for you to give him the next signal. You gotta give him the signal, Hatz.”

“You do.” Ryn.

“Totes.” Pepper.

“Absolutely.” Evie.

Jet again said nothing to me.

Though she did to Lottie.

“It isn’t that easy for everybody, Lottie.”

It so wasn’t.

I mean, I loved kissing him. A lot.

But I wanted more.

A lot more.

Especially after all that kissing.

I just didn’t know how to communicate that mostly because I thought I already was.

I was participating in our makeout sessions—avidly—and if memory served, I didn’t think it was me—not once—that ended them.

If you were too shy to speak the words, how else did you tell a guy you were ready for more, outside grabbing his dick?

Jet turned to me. “Take your time. If he’s worth it, he’ll wait.”

Ryn made a noise that sounded like she was being strangled.

I homed in on that. “What?”

“Well, just saying, he’s been waiting awhile.”

He totally had.

Way longer than three days.

Bah!

“So, have a conversation about it,” Jet said to Ryn. “She doesn’t have to go for the gusto.”

A conversation might be doable.

It might not.

Axl and I now seemed to have no problem communicating.

But how did you bring up the conversation that essentially said, “Dude, I want you to fuck me.”

I absolutely wanted him to fuck me. If he could kiss that well, I was really looking forward to what else he could do.

Again …

Like … a lot.

I just didn’t know how to get him to do it.

I mean, he hadn’t even gone for my breast.

It was excruciatingly frustrating.

“I think it’s sweet he’s taking things slow,” Evie remarked.

“God, if Boone slept on the couch while I was in a bed a room away, for three nights, I’d have to figure out how to muffle my vibrator, I’d be she-bopping so much,” Ryn declared. “We actually had a conversation about taking it slow. Our slow lasted a day.”

Oh God.

Seriously, I felt that.

After all our snogging?

Then Axl just kisses my neck, tells me to sleep well and closes his bedroom door on me?

Man.

It had been crazy hard not to crawl between his sheets and have a little me time that I wished was we time.

“Talk to him, grab his dick, whatever. The conversation, verbal or physical, will last less than a minute before he does something—” Lottie cut herself off as she looked to the door.

The way she did that, I looked that way too.

And, to my surprise, incoming were Axl and Boone, with Axl looking …

Looking …

I braced because I’d never seen him look like that.

But it was not hard to read that look.

He was enraged.

Oh no.

What now?

My stalker had taken a day off. There’d been nothing from him on Friday.

Was he back with a vengeance?

“Oh shit.” Ryn.

“Holy hell.” Pepper.

“Oh boy.” Evie.

“What are you doing here?” Lottie.

Axl stopped by the pedestal I was standing on, his eyes raking me, they came to mine, and he demanded, “Jesus, fuck, what are you wearing?”

“Uh …”

“A bridesmaid dress, Axe,” Lottie answered for me. “Seeing as we’re at a dress fitting, and you know that. But I’ll repeat, what are you doing—?”

“Your father called you a whore?” Axl bit out, ignoring Lottie.

I looked to Boone who was looking apologetically at Ryn, which made me turn my attention to Ryn who was in full-on Eek! face.

Ryn told Boone, Boone told Axl.

Now Axl was here.

Enraged.

Damn.

“Eyes to me, Hattie,” Axl growled.

I turned instantly back to him.

“Uh …”

“And you’ve been fasting?” he clipped.

My gaze took the journey from Boone to Ryn again, which bought me another growled, “Eyes,” from Axl.

I started to move off the pedestal to him, seeing Mag now standing behind him with Boone, and I did this saying, “Honey, I—”

He shook his head, I stopped moving, and he stated, “Oh no, baby. Fuck no. Shit just changed with how we deal with your dad.”

Uh-oh.

“Listen, maybe we can talk—” I tried again.

“You’re not a whore,” he declared.

“I know that, but—”

“Does it even penetrate how entirely fucked up it is for a father to call his daughter a whore?” he asked.

I shut up, and not simply because, in truth, it actually hadn’t. It hurt he said that. I knew he was wrong about it. But it didn’t occur to me