“I like it. You look comfy.”
“I am. That’s what leggings are for. Comfy days.”
“Are you wearing underwear?”
“Really? That’s what you want to know?”
“I can’t help it. I don’t see any evidence of any, and curiosity killed the cat.”
I wanted to lie, but he’d find out sooner rather than later. “As a matter of fact, I’m not.”
“We’ll have to trim this tree later,” he said, right before his mouth came down on mine.
His hand came around the nape of my neck, his tongue swiped against mine as my legs wrapped around his middle. “Oh,” I whispered. It did feel good, whatever was creating friction.
“Atta girl.”
“Hush, farm boy,” I warned him. “You’re going to spoil the moment.”
He carried us upstairs. “That couch of yours is too damn dainty. You need to replace it.”
“Why? So you can have your way with me in front of the window?”
“You know it.”
Inside my bedroom, he laid me down on the bed and took his time pulling my pants down each leg, placing kisses along each calf, running his hands back over my quads. He stripped with no shame and bent down, pulling off my T-shirt.
Spread out next to me, his hand wandered everywhere, leaving no skin untouched. His mouth found its way to my bra, pulling down the cups with his teeth before paying attention to my nipples, one after the other.
“Aiken,” I interrupted. He lifted his head, and I used that to my advantage, tipping him onto his back, my own mouth traveling the length of his body. My tongue flirted with his belly button, making its own path lower, before taking all of him in my mouth. At first, I teased, and then judging by his moans that he couldn’t take it much longer, I took him deeper.
“Christ,” he let out. “You’re fucking it for me, Richards.”
Hearing those words did outlandish things to me. I was primed and ready, but I wanted to satisfy Aiken with my mouth. So I did.
Then he flipped us over, and payback was really a bitch.
Not really.
