“Myelbows?” She cracks up, and I glow inside.
I made her laugh.
She shoves my shoulder and pushes me to my side, then tackles the buttons on my shirt.
I kiss her collarbones. “Aren’t you supposed to rip it off?”
“Not when you’re poor and don’t know how to sew.”
It has clearly been too long since I’ve seen a naked woman because I can’t stop drinking in the sight of her breasts as they sway between us and the fairy tattoos all over her skin. “I’ll save a few million for myself so I can afford new shirts when women rip them off me.”
She giggles.
Giggles.
I nip at her neck, and the giggles disappear behind another catch of her breath.
She shoves one side of my shirt off my shoulder, her fingernails trailing down my bicep, and I go cross-eyed.
From a woman touching myarm.
Am I oversensitive, or is this?—
“Less thinking, more touching.” She shoves me onto my back.
I arch one brow at her and roll so she’s beneath me again, her neck under my lips, her legs hooked around my hips again.
Her skin is addictive.
It’s—
I snort with laughter as I suck harder at her neck.
“You gonna share with the—ooooh, right there—class?” she asks.
“No.”
Even when I’m losing my mind, I’m absolutely not telling her that her skin tastes like coffee and pecan pie.
My two favorite things in the world.
One old, one new.
Like—like whatever this is.
Old me, new me.
Old her, new her.
Old—holy fuck, that’s a good angle with her pussy.
My eyes cross again while she tightens her legs around my hips and rocks her center against my cock.
Why are pants?
Sincerely, why do humans wear pants?
Tremendously inconvenient.
