“Let me,” he says, pushing my hands away.
“Dan, this is an industrial-strength sports bra,” I tell him, but he scoffs.
“And I’m a big boy, Carson. I’ve been dreaming of peeling this thing off you since you wore it to the gym last week. Solet me.”
His strong fingers grip the material, his forearms flexing as hepulls. I lean forward to help him with the angle, so when the spandex comes off, I’m left leaning over him. My breasts, heavy and aching, hang just above him. He grins. “See? This worked out perfectly.”
He tilts his head up and sucks my nipple between his lips, his free hand kneading my other breast. The sensation is too much, and my back arches to offer him more and less at the same time. Lost in the moment, I tip my head back and let myself feel it, an explosion of pleasure that fills my vision with a glittery brightness.
And then I catch sight of us in the mirror hanging on the back wall of his booth.
I look wild and wanton, my skin flushed as I writhe atop him, his lips on my breasts.
I have a momentary flash of anxiety, just a hint of that old shame that always hides in the back of my mind. But Dan’s tongue, lavishing my full breasts with attention, chases it away.
“Like what you see?” he asks, catching my eyes in the mirror, his lips curling up.
I reach down for his shirt. “I’d like it a lot better if you caught up.”
“Yes, ma’am,” he says, grabbing the back collar of his T-shirt in his fist and tugging it off in one swift, shockingly sexy move.
But it’s nothing compared to the sight of a shirtless Dan, all his ink on display beneath me, my hands free to roam.
I trace my nail over a sunrise inked just above the waistband of his jeans and delight in the shudder of his breath. “Someday you’ll have to give me a tattoo tour,” I say. I roll my hips again, grinding my needy pussy over his desperate cock.
“Any time other than right now,” he rasps as he looks up at me from beneath his dark lashes. “I fear I’m about to lose the power of speech.”
I arch an eyebrow at him. “If I recall, turned-on Dan is the mouthiest version of Dan.”
A slap lands on my ass, the delicious sting of his palm going straight to my clit.
“Aren’t you the little sass mouth?” he says with a smirk. “I’ll show you mouthy.” He snaps the waistband of my shorts. “Take these off.”
CHAPTER 31
DAN
For as long as I live, I will remember the sight of Carson standing before me, eyes wide, cheeks flushed as she peels down her shorts.
Especially when I discover that she’s not wearing anything beneath them.
She reaches for her braids, her delicate fingers making quick work of them. When she shakes out her curls, they cascade over her shoulders and dance around her breasts.
Then she squares her shoulders, her sparkling eyes tangling with mine like a challenge, and I know I’m done. The confidence she exudes standing naked in my booth, daring me to look as long as I want? I know this woman is it for me. Even if I only get to have a moment with her, I know that no one else will ever live up to this.
“You next,” she says, a single eyebrow rising.
I stand up and crowd her, gripping her hips as I walk her backward. I steal another kiss and press her down into the chair. Never taking my eyes off her, I pop the button on my jeans. I revel in the way her blue eyes widen, then go dark as she realizes that I am also not wearing anything beneath them. Her eyes fix on the three barbells that cross the top of my shaft. I like that theyseem to excite her. I like that I’m introducing her to something new.
I want to do so many new things with her.
“Laundry day,” I say with a smirk, then take my swollen cock in my fist and give it a long, hard stroke.
“Tell me you have a condom,” she whispers. Her tongue swipes across her bottom lip, andfuckthat gives me ideas. But that’s for later. Right now, I want to be inside her.
I reach for my messenger bag next to the toolbox full of tattoo supplies and pull out a strip of condoms. “I paid a visit to the cabinet, behind the salad spinner,” I say with a grin. “There was no way I was going to be caught unawares again.”
“Smart boy,” she purrs.
