Over my shorts, she wraps her hand around my cock and squeezes. And when she strokes me from root to tip, I watch those blue eyes widen as if she were mentally measuring my size.
I don’t ask her if she’s sure about this or give her a chance to second-guess. Because I know if I give either of us the space to think clearly about what we’re doing and where we’re doing it, this will abruptly end.
I’m amped all the way up, not thinking clearly, and I could not care less that, for tonight, I’ve given up the fight.
With my hips chasing her palm, pushing into her touch, I slip my hand into her hair, gripping the strands and pulling her mouth back to mine. I breathe against her parted lips, and itfeels like my first deep inhale of fresh air after weeks since the last time I got to do this.
She’s everything, kissing me like I’m hers, stroking me like she owns me. And for this moment, I let myself believe that I could be. That she does.
Reese wiggles against me, circling with need. She’s on my lap, but not flush to me, the empty space between our hips acting like the worst kind of tease. Though, I’m the lucky one who’s got her hand wrapped around me while she’s out there chasing nothing with her hips.
I’m so focused on her mouth, on the way her lips are soft yet sure, that I can’t concentrate on what I want to touch for the first time. I feel like a kid on Christmas morning who wants to play with every toy at once.
“Em,” she pants, pulling away to rest her forehead against mine. She must notice my tense fists, opening and closing, trying to figure out where to lay my hands first. “Touch me.”
“I can’t decide where,” I exhale on a laugh.
She smiles against me, a soft palm running through my beard. “Everywhere would be a good start.”
I focus on her thighs, thick and balanced on my own, those light blue leggings of hers acting as a second skin. Then there’s her tits, heaving with labored breaths behind a matching sports bra that can barely hold her in. And I can’t help but dream about feeling them pressed against me, maybe getting my mouth wrapped around one. Her stomach curls over the waistband of her leggings, andfuck, I want to touch that too.
She’s squirming against me, a shuddering little mess, and it reminds me of exactly where I want to touch first. Where Ineedto touch first.
Smoothing my palms over her thighs, I languidly run them upward, and when they meet her hips, I curve them over, grabbing her ass and pulling her forward to rock against me.
She moves her hand out of the way, running it up my bare torso. And the small brush of friction, when her body finally rubs over mine, almost makes me come undone with that one single stroke.
“Oh,” she cries, cheek falling against my own, a single hand cradling the back of my head while the other grips the bench behind me. She curls her hips forward the slightest amount and her entire body shivers when her clit coasts over the head of my cock.
“That’s it,” I encourage. “Use me, Reese. Or let me use you.”
She agrees eagerly, letting me move her body exactly how I want, pushing and pulling her by her hips andgood God, I’m going to come in my fucking shorts.
The fabric of her leggings creates this delicious slide against my cock, though I wouldn’t be mad if what’s left of our clothing could disappear. But then I’d just be tempted to slip into her, and like I said, I’m not going to fuck her here.
Her lips work a path over my throat as I allow my hands to explore. I curve them around her ass again, fingers toying with the seam of her leggings.
She hesitates when I dip lower.
“Tell me to stop.”
“No. Keep touching me.”
And so I do, running my fingertips against the seam of her leggings, and reaching around to stroke them over her pussy, only to find the fabric there is already damp with her arousal.
“Wet for me already?”
“Yes,” she breathes.
I stroke my fingers over her core one more time then give her ass a squeeze as I rock her against me. I continue my path, giving into the insane need to touch every inch of her. Both hands wander over her stomach and up over her chest. My thumbsflick her nipples that are peeking out from behind her sports bra. Then I give those a squeeze too.
Reese moans this precious sound against my throat as she kisses over my stubble.
She’s fucking perfect in my hands, but of course she is.
“That feels good,” she whispers. “I like you like this. With your hands all over me. A little bit desperate.”
“A little bit? Fucking please.” I exhale a tortured laugh. “I’m fucking gone right now, but are you surprised?” Clamping a hand over her shoulder, I push her down onto me, making sure she can feel just howdesperateI am. “You did this to me. You walk around my clubhouse in those goddamn high heels and with that goddamn attitude, making me want you.”
