She hollows her cheeks, bobbing against me as she unbuttons and unzips her jeans. Seconds later, one hand is in her panties, and the other is back wrapped around me.
“You’re wet, aren’t you?” I ask.
She nods. “Mm-hmm.”
She pushes her panties and pants down to her knees, spreading her thighs a little wider. I wish I could see more of her, but her moans tell me everything I need to know.
I want to thrust deeper into her throat, but I’ll work her up to that.
“Tell me, Ken Doll, do you have any limits in the bedroom?” I grunt.
She shakes her head, blinking up at me.
My head rests back against the wall, and I smirk. “We’re going to have a lot of fun.”
Our eyes lock, and it’s like our entire future flashes in my mind. The orgasm builds, and every muscle in my body tenses. My vision whites out, and I come so hard that I nearly collapse.
She continues sucking me, swallowing down every hot string while I pump into the back of her throat. I have one hand braced against the wall to hold myself up, and the other is threaded in her hair.
When she pulls away, her lips are swollen, and her mascara is smudged, but it’s her soft gaze that undoes me. There’s something raw in her eyes, and I feel as if she’s put me under her spell. We’ve stepped off the edge of a cliff, and we can never climb back up.
I lift her to her feet and crush my mouth against hers, tasting myself on her tongue. The kiss says everything we shouldn’t.
When we break apart, we’re breathing hard.
“How was it?” she asks against my lips.
“Great. You get an A in BJs,” I confirm.
“Not an A-plus?”
“No,” I whisper, sliding my fingers inside her. “You didn’t come.”
I rub my fingers against her swollen clit, and her eyes slam shut. Within one minute, her pussy is squeezing my fingers, and she’s whispering my name.
“It’s like you haven’t been with a man in a long fucking time, Ken Doll.” I place my fingers in my mouth, tasting her. “Is that a record for you?”
“Yes,” she confesses. “I haven’t been with anyone since Jameson.”
My heart pounds in my ears, and my jaw tightens.
“Fuck,” I whisper. “You’re not over him.”
“I am,” she says, and I want to believe her.
“Doesn’t matter anyway.”
“Yep. Just fuck buddies.”
“We’re not buddies. We’re not friends,” I remind her.
“Right.”
She steps back, straightens her sweater, smooths her hair, and wipes the mascara from under her eyes. I notice the slight tremor in her fingers as I tuck myself back in and fight with my clothes.
A door slams somewhere in the building, and we both freeze.
Footsteps echo down the tunnel, and voices bounce off concrete walls. The crew must be here to lock up the building. Meanwhile, we’re hiding out in a closet that smells like sex and bad decisions.
