“Exhausted,” she said.
I smiled crookedly as I peered around us, people piling out of the stadium in a push, and when I glanced at her again, I couldn’t help reaching out for the hem of her shirt and toying with it between my fingers. She was irresistible. I wanted to touch her every chance I could, even if it were just the hem of her clothes or a whisper of her delectable thighs.
Gods dammit, these fucking thighs.
I needed her to wrap them around my face.
“Do you want to chill out here, or are you in a rush to get home?”
“Which one involves more time with you?” she asked.
I sat up, my breaths short as I stared at her standing between my legs, her shorts digging somewhat into the tops of her thighs. I let my fingers tickle over those stockings and run under the distressed hem.
“Here,” I said.
Her bottom lip sagged when I touched her. “I like when you do that,” she said, her eyes still on me. “When you touch my thighs like you can’t resist them.”
“I can’t,” I said as I sat up more, my left hand following the same movement as my right; thumbs brushing under the hem, as my other fingers clasped the backs just below her ass. I massaged her flesh as we stood there, staring at one another in a moment we couldn’t control. She pushed her hand through my hair, making goosebumps rise, and I groaned under my breath.
“I like when you do that,” I managed, leaning in to kiss her stomach below her breasts. “When you push your hand through my hair like you’re using it as a handle.”
A smile flickered on her lips. “It’s a good handle," she said with a tug.
I huffed under my breath and leaned forward, mouth catching on the button of her shorts. “Are you ready to get out of here?” I asked.
“I don’t know,” she said. “I’m quite enjoying this thigh massage.”
I pinched her ass cheeks, making her jump, and she pulled at my hair, tilting my head back.
“The massage can continue in other places at your apartment,” I said. “Or in the car. We have a driver, you know."
“I’m not getting naked in the car,” she said.
“I didn’t say you had to, however now that I know youwantto….” I started to bury my face between her breasts, but she hauled me away with a laugh. I sat my chin there instead and peered up at her.
“You’re so fucking beautiful,” I whispered.
Another chuckle left her, and she pushed me away, stepping out of my grasp. “You’re an absolute flirt,” she laughed.
“I need my hat back,” I said.
“Oh? Why? You don’t like it on me?”
“That’s the problem. I like it too much on you,” I answered. “All I can think is how sexy you’ll look wearing it with tiny shorts and tall socks, your hair laying over your breasts—“
“That’s very specific,” she said, her grin wide. “Should I leave you to your fantasy? Get my own car home?”
“Don’t you fucking dare,” I hissed as I stood and reached for her arm, pulling her back into me and making her gasp.
She gripped my shirt, and I slipped my arms around her waist to secure her body against mine, not caring that the security guards were beginning to usher people out.
She was in my arms, and if I didn’t quell my thirst for her, I wasn’t sure how I was going to go on living.
My heart beat in my ears, all awareness of the room evacuating from my mind. Her gaze began to dart back and forth from my eyes to my mouth, lingering on the latter for longer than she should have. I wanted—needed—to kiss her. This was excruciating, the craving making my muscles stretch, wind, and twist in agony.
“How am I supposed to breathe when I’m this close to you?” she whispered against my lips.
I moved my hand up to her neck, the space between my thumb and forefinger resting on the front of her throat, and I tightened my hand. “You breathe when I tell you to,” I whispered. “Tell me, baby, is your pussy aching as much for me right now as I am for it?”
