His lips pressed against my neck.
“I’m worried we won’t mesh and it’ll fuck things up at work. Or you’ll think I’m with you just to try and get ahead with my job.”
“Really?” I turned around to see him, now needing his eyes. “I don’t think you’re that type of person. And I’m pretty sure we have chemistry.”
“And I’m pretty sure our chemistry will make the first time good enough for us to want to do it again. In fact, I’m pretty sure that when we start, I’m not going to be able to get enough, if how you dance is anything to go by.”
I was being held tightly in his arms and I could feel the press of his cock against me through the towel around him and my t-shirt. His mouth pressed against my neck again and he nipped at the skin.
The idea of his hands slipping under my t-shirt was appealing, more so than my coffee that was still sitting there, untouched.
“I don’t want you to regret anything, Sim.” His words sounded husky. “I don’t want to be another guy who fucks things up for you. Even if what we have is a few more dates and a lot of fun, before you decide that I’m not good enough for you, I want us both to have good memories.”
I turned around in his arms. “What do you mean –before you decide that I’m not good enough for you? On which planet would that be?”
“We all have our hang ups.”
We all had our layers and intricacies too, including Jack. My fingers played in his hair, running through the dampness from the shower.
“So what do we do?”
He picked me up and put me on the work top. I locked my legs around his hips, the towel around his waist properly tented. My hips moved against him, pushing my centre closer to him, seeking some of the release I hadn’t found with my own hand last night.
“We see where it goes.”
“Now?” My t-shirt had lifted, all of my legs exposed, the black panties I had on the only thing that separated me from Jack, the towel only just hanging on.
“Unless you have somewhere else to be?”
Panic bubbled and I felt myself tense.
He chuckled. “Or later. How about I take us back over to the sofa and help you do whatever you did last night, but better?”
I nodded, words just not forthcoming.
He lifted a hand to my face and cupped my chin as he kissed me gently, softly. I tried to deepen it, but he kept it sweet, picking me up and taking me over to the sofa where we’d been last night.
His hands pushed under my t-shirt, touching skin that hadn’t felt that attention for what felt forever. I wanted to feel him in the same way, but right now all I could do was hold on while his hands touched my breasts, playing with my nipples, pinching and rubbing.
“Take it off. Let me see you.”
I sat up and between us the t-shirt was on the floor in seconds, his eyes on my tits, hands on my waist.
“You have the best pair of breasts I’ve ever seen.” He made no attempt to look up.
I felt my nipples hardening under his gaze and I remembered how I’d been proud of my body, liked it being admired. I remember how it was to be worshipped and how I knew I wanted to be.
“You can touch.”
But he kissed me instead, possessing my mouth and there was nothing sweet about this. I lay back on the sofa, his hands exploring, his lips trailing down my neck to my chest, to my breasts. He was flooding my body with responses I didn’t know how to express beyond the slight whimper and the clutch of my hand on his back and his ass.
He sucked each nipple into tight bullets, fingering each one afterwards, looking at his handiwork. I was the signature course on his menu; if the Big Bad Wolf had ever looked at Red Riding Hood this way, then any adaptation would’ve been adults only.
“Can I?” He slipped his fingers under the sides of my panties.
I nodded and lifted my ass up so he could slide them down. He did, taking them off and then bringing them to his face to smell.
I was embarrassed and turned on simultaneously, not sure which was the overwhelming emotion; his eyes were dark and fixed on me, reading me and then staring between my legs which I’d spread without thinking about it.
