“Right…” she drawls, slow and seductive. No, I’m hearing things. “At least you know how to keep your hands to yourself.”
“I know how to do that very well. I may be many things, but I know how to be respectful and—” I get sidetracked when I notice a wayward strand stuck to her lip. I don’t think before I’m gently pulling it away and placing it back neatly with the rest of her hair. “Sorry.” I should move my hand away, but I don’t. “Guess that contradicts everything I just said…”
“I don’t know…” She rubs her lips together and tips her head down, eyes flashing to my hand on her hair.
“What don’t you know?” I step a little closer.
“If it’s considered contradictory when the other person might like what you’re doing.” Her words are dripping in heat, eyes hooded and dilated.
My heart rate might have just broken the scale to whatever is deemed normal for a pumping organ. It’s racing—too fast, too intense. I’m having a hard time getting it to chill the fuck down.
“Do you?” I cock a brow, my voice gruff. “Like what I’m doing?”
She takes a step forward and drops her arms to her side. “Maybe.”
I grab a lock of her hair, coiling it around my finger, then drag it down until it’s next to her breast. Her chest rises a little faster than before and her nipple is now poking through her shirt, stiff and further outlining the barbell pierced through it.
I clench my teeth, inhaling a breath, feeling dizzy over her presence and the smell of her perfume. “Can I touch you right here?”
With her eyes locked on mine, she doesn’t hesitate when she nods. “Touch me.”
I close the space between us, walking her backward until her back is flush against the wall. “Where?”
“Anywhere,” she replies breathlessly.
I release her hair and raise my finger to the outer part of her collarbone. Her light brown skin shimmers and heats as I glide it across the bone and inward before stopping in the middle.
I feel her heart pump beneath my finger as I drag it down until it’s at the top slope of her breast. Her jaw tics, but she keeps her gaze glued to my fingers, watching and waiting to see what I’ll do next.
I drag it over her shirt and around her nipple, teasing her until she quietly and impatiently groans. I smirk, enjoying her frustration, but I don’t prolong it as I grab hold and pinch her nipple hard over her shirt. She inhales a sharp breath and fists the bottom of my shirt.
When I twist the barbell, she squeezes her eyes shut and tips her head down, and I almost miss it from how loud the music is, but I catch the muffled moan before it gets drowned out.
I lean in, my mouth above her ear, my thumb and forefinger pinching and twisting her nipple, occasionally pulling on the barbell. “How long do you think I can do this before you come?”
“I-I…” she stutters and drops her head to my chest. “Oh…” She moans again, a little louder than before. Like she couldn’t give a fuck that there’s a raging party behind us. Despite that, I make sure to shield her from everyone. I don’t want anyone to see her the way I am. “That’s never happened. Don’t waste your time.”
“Never?” I hum. My fingers are too big, but as best as I can, I grab the beads at the end of the bar and pull only those forward. “Well, I’m very good at proving people wrong, and I’m always up for a challenge.”
She pushes her breast into my palm, releases my shirt, and slips her hand under it. She grabs my waist, nails digging into my skin, and I hiss.
“Don’t disappoint me then.” She lifts her head, and her needy, lust-filled eyes lock with mine.
I chuckle. “I bet I can get two.”
She arches a perfect black brow, laughing. “Please don’t make a fool out of yourself. Let’s attempt one and then we’ll—” Her lips part and a gasp escapes them as I thread my free hand through her hair. I fist enough of it to be able to tilt her head to the side.
I make it look casual. If anyone were to walk behind me, they wouldn’t think anything of us. They’d probably assume I’m a guy hugging his girlfriend.
Little do they know…
“Stand on your tiptoes,” I demand.
She does as I instruct, and I’d be lying if I said it didn’t shock me. I half expected her to tell me to fuck off or something along those lines, but she does as I say without protest.
“Do you get off on that?” I whisper against the shell of her ear, blowing on the gold array of earrings that line her ear, my lips just barely grazing the skin before they descend to her jaw.
“On what?” She’s feigning ignorance, so I decide to go along with it.
