The Bacelor: Make A Sex Deal

“I’ve seen the movie, and I refuse to become that main star-in other words, I will not be the forty-year-old virgin. I also don’t want to give myself to just anyone and, at the end of it, be regretful because it was dismal at best. I want my first time to be amazing.”

“What are you saying, Oaklyn?”

“I’m saying”-she untucked her legs and crossed them in front of her, leaning forward to bring us closer-“if I’m in the same situation a year from now, I want my first time to be with you. And I want you to teach me all the things I need to know, so I can be good at it.”

A full laugh wasn’t what came out of my mouth. This was more of a half, followed by me chugging the remaining vodka in my glass. “Let me get this straight. You want me to take your virginity and teach you how to please a man? That’s what you’re asking me?”

A series of images instantly played in my head-the tasting of that beautiful body, how wet I could make her pussy. The hugging of my dick, a type of virgin tightness that I hadn’t felt in a long time.

The fucking moaning.

Jesus Christ.

“Yes,” she responded.

My feet dropped to the floor. “Oaklyn, do you know what my sister would do to me if she found out? We shouldn’t even be having this conversation right now.”

“Camden-”

“No.” I shook my head. “You’re so fucking off-limits.”

She reached across the space, her hand gently touching my thigh. “Please listen to me, okay?”

It was just fingers casually resting on my leg, but something about them felt so good.

Too fucking good.

“I’ve heard you out.” I moved her hand away, assuming that feeling would leave with it. But it didn’t. “And what you don’t know-or maybe you do-is that I made Hannah a promise in high school that I wouldn’t go anywhere near you or any of her close friends. Even though that promise was a long time ago, it’s good for a lifetime.”

Back then, I had gotten around as much as I did now.Text property © Nôvel(D)ra/ma.Org.

The bachelor, the ultimate player-Hannah rotated between titles, depending on the day, but they meant the same thing. I was the guy who had no plans on settling down, and my sister didn’t want me to fuck her friends and then leave them right after, which was what I was known for.

“Camden, Hannah doesn’t have to know.” Her voice was a little above a whisper. “And what I’ll get out of this will most likely be the best sex I’ll ever have in my life.”

My face tilted to the side; my brows rose. “What would give you that assumption?”

“You’re forgetting we grew up together. Hannah’s room was directly next to yours; you guys shared a wall. I heard”-she smiled-“everything.”

“That was years and years ago.”

She leaned back against the cushions, putting distance between us. “And I’m sure you’ve only gotten better.”

Praising my manhood.

I liked her style.

But this proposition was risky.

Did I want to taste her?

Fuck yes.

Did I want to feel her virgin pussy pulse around my dick?

Fucking yes.

But doing that would come with consequences.

Oaklyn was practically family. Given that she’d never done anything like this before, that could make her extra emotional and clingy. Needy even.

I didn’t handle any of those well.

“What do you say, Camden?” As she repositioned herself again, her sweatshirt fell off her shoulder, showing the dip of her neck, her jutted-out collarbone-both incredibly sexy. “In one year, if I’m still in the same place, are you going to swoop in and rescue me?”

There was nothing rescuing about the way I liked to fucked.

I was naughty.

Insatiable.

Animalistic.

I wanted sweat and pain and shouting at the top of our fucking lungs.

I jiggled the remaining ice cubes. “When the time comes, how will I know you’re still a virgin?”

Where did that question come from?

What the hell has gotten into me?

Why am I even teasing myself when I know how dangerous this is?

“I’ll tell you.” She grinned. “It’s not like I haven’t had your cell number for a million years.”

Oaklyn was wrong; she did in fact want a prince, one who would ensure her first time was like a fairy tale. Where she’d be kissed. Loved. Desired with soft, tender embraces.

But I was no fucking savior.

Nor was I soft. Tender. Loving.

I was a man who focused on orgasms, not commitments.

I didn’t just want my power to break the bed. I wanted my stroke to send the headboard straight through the wall.

There was a big difference.

And because one of us needed to act with something other than what was between our legs, I said, “Oaklyn …” My voice faded as her expression began to captivate me in a way I couldn’t fight, so I got up and went into the kitchen, adding more ice and vodka to my glass before I returned to the couch. I thought the break would make this easier, but my dick was even harder now. “You do know what you’re asking from me, don’t you?”

She bit her lip, those deep blue eyes fucking twinkling. “I’m not asking you to strip me naked right now.” She allowed that thought to simmer. “It’s a year away.”

She had a point.

So much shit could happen in twelve months.

Hell, she could be married by then.

“I’m also not going to beg you to take my virginity-”

“You don’t have to beg me,” I growled.

Fuck, that wasn’t the appropriate response.

I needed to be stronger.

I needed to say no.

I needed to show her that I was unaffected by this request.

But I couldn’t.

There was plenty of pussy I’d turned down over the years. Women who had done nothing for me or couldn’t handle a one-night stand.

But Oaklyn Rose wasn’t a woman I could ever deny.

She held out her fingers. “Should we shake on it?”

The moment our hands locked, rule number three formed in my head.

You don’t fuck your sister’s best friend when you promised her you wouldn’t.

And, goddamn it, I had a feeling that one would be broken too.