I’m in position, bent over the bed, holding the sign over my ass. I crane my neck to watch his reaction, savoring every second.
He shakes his head. He looks to the ceiling, like he’s asking the universeare you even real?Then he reads the sign out loud:
Spank Me.
“Are you glad I didn’t bring it to the game tonight?”
“I’m very glad you saved it just for us,” he says, and those last three words echo in my head and heart—just for us.
That shouldn’t hit me as hard as it does. Raw, full of meaning, full of a future. But this thing between us isn’t about the future. It’s about the present and there’s no place I’d rather be than here in this moment.
Ford closes the distance between us, then bends so his face is close to me. He cups my chin, and claims my lips in a hot, searing kiss. My head goes hazy as his fingertips slide along my jaw, his other hand roaming down my lacy bra and over my stomach. His kisses are deep and hot and full of something pent up. Like he’s been holding back all night and doesn’t have to anymore.
When he pulls back with a long, appreciative sigh, he takes the sign and sets it on the bed. He moves behind me and slides a hand up my back, along my neck, into my hair. He curls his fist gently around the strands. I tremble, my breath catching.
A charged moment. The air vibrating. Cleo watching.
Then Ford’s hand comes down on my ass in a sharp smack. I yelp as the sting spreads through me in a painfully delicious way. Simon barks.
“It’s okay, buddy,” I reassure him as I drop my head, catch my breath, then lift the sign again.
Once more Ford laughs, raises a hand, and swats the other cheek. The bark is quieter this time, but the pleasure is even greater. I raise the sign a third time.
Ford gives me the same treatment a few more times until I feel a little sore and alotturned on.
Setting the sign down, I turn around, grab his tie, and loop it around my palm. “Did you wear your lucky yellow shorts tonight during the game?”
“Always.”
“What color are you wearing now?”
“Find out,” he orders.
“Yes, sir.”
My eager hands travel down his white shirt to his beige slacks. I undo the button, then the zipper, and tug them down.
I lick my lips. My body hums. A pulse beats between my thighs as I take in his sartorial choice. “When did yellow become so sexy?”
But I already know the answer—when I met him.
“You tell me, baby,” he says, curling a hand lightly around the back of my head.
Nothing has ever been sexier than his yellow boxer briefs—especially with his hard cock straining against them, a drop of liquid arousal giving away exactly how he feels.
I drop to my knees.
Roaming my hands up his rock-hard thighs, I lift my chin, locking eyes with this man as I tease him with my eager fingers. His blue eyes darken, and in them I see heat, desire and something else. Something I’ve been seeing in them lately—a passion that goes beyond the bedroom.
A passion that matches mine.
He lets go of my head and runs a finger along my jaw. A new vulnerability spreads inside me. I think I sense it in him too.
Or maybe I just want to? Hard to say, especially inthismoment when lust has the wheel.
I tear my gaze away from his handsome face. I like looking at his dick too. And touching it, so I peel down his boxer briefs, inch by inch, enjoying the moment when his hard cock springs free, pointing right at me.
I bite the corner of my lips, and stare at his long, pretty pink dick. Yes, Icoulddraw him into my mouth right now. But I think I’ll toy with him first. I fist his cock. His breath hitches. I rest my cheek against his shaft, rubbing him against my face.
