“Are you gonna freak out now?” she asked, sounding a little dejected.
“No.”
“Are you gonna go crazy?”
He grinned. “Yeah.”
He gripped her by the hips and flipped her onto her back on the sofa. Shock widened her eyes, forced a gasp right out of her. She didn’t know what was coming. Months of frustration…he almost felt sorry for her. Spreading her legs apart, he moved between them and lowered his body onto hers.
“This will be nine for you, Mister Evans.”
“You don’t have to keep count,” he whispered. “I’m not gonna stop.” And then he drove his tongue into her mouth, kissing her the way he wanted to. His hand was on her breast, rubbing her the way he wanted to. Without restraint, without holding back. She moaned and writhed against him, whispering his name in his ear as his lips travelled down her neck.
Lifting his upper body, he grabbed the back of his vest, tugged it over his head, and tossed it on the floor. He pressed one hand against the armrest and used it to brace himself above her while the other hand trailed up her inner thigh, slipping under her skirt. Tracing his fingers over her underwear, he felt her moistness through the material. She was so ready for him.He caught the seam of her panties with his finger, pushed it one side and slowly rubbed his tips along her entrance.
“Tyler…”
She was breathless, ecstatic. Her hips lifted off the sofa, grinding against his hand. He loved that, watching her come apart beneath his touch.
He sank his teeth into her lip and slid two fingers inside her. He groaned. So hot. So wet.What a welcome to V-town.
It was enough to make him want to become a permanent resident there. His thumb massaged her clit and with each thrust of his fingers, she became wilder. Bare breasts pushing on his chest. Nails scouring down his back. Fingers twisting into his hair. Moans strained and desperate. Mouth soft and ardent. Hands hard and fervent. Her entire body was begging for more. And it was unkind to make a woman beg.
He lifted up again and just as he was about to strip her naked, he heard the front door open.
“Oh, fuck!” she whisper-shouted.
He collapsed against her with a frustrated grumble. “You gotta be kidding me.”
“I can’t believe you got his number, Neilums. I was so sure he was straight.”
“It’s Gemma,” Jordan said, rubbing her fingers against her forehead. “And Neil.”
“Gem, after so many years of being my friend,” Neil said, “how is your gay-dar still so messed up?”
The back of the sofa was still shielding them from view and Tyler was hoping they would just walk away, disappear for a few minutes so Jordan could put on some clothes.
There was silence for a long time before Gemma spoke again. “Don’t you love the smell of home, Neil?”
“Yeah…especially when it smells like sex.”
“We’re busted,” Jordan whispered with a soft giggle. “Warning,” she said when footsteps began approaching. “They’re not…the type of people you’re used to.”
What the hell does that mean?
Two bodies came to stand behind the sofa, but he didn’t lift up or look back. Jordan turned bright red and an embarrassed laugh escaped her as she looked up at them. “Hi, guys. How was your trip?”
That was way too casual given the circumstances.
“It was great,” Gemma responded. “Looks like you were about to take a trip too.”
“On your way to Pound-town, Jordan?” Neil asked flatly.
Tyler just shook his head against her shoulder.
“Yeah,” Jordan replied. “But then you two showed up and we had to make a pit stop.”
Way too casual! And so inappropriate.
