“Do you need help?” He tips his chin down a little. The slight shift of his features changes the feel of our teasing. He’s watching me as if he’s ready to pounce at any moment.
“Do you mind handing me those things?” I flip the covers back and stretch languidly before scooting my legs to the side of the bed so I can get up.
“Are you trying to make me late again?” he asks with dark suspicion, yet he extends his hand to me as if to help me stand.
“No.” I rise, putting most of my weight on my good foot. Memphis doesn’t give me much room, so we end up nearly pressed together. “I thought you needed to go.” I tip up my brow, feeling brave for no reason at all.
“I do.” He leans down and kisses me softly. When I feel the tip of his minty tongue trace over my bottom lip, I pull back.
“I need to brush.”
Quicker than my sleepy reflexes can respond, he reaches up and grabs the back of my neck and pulls me to him. His lips are nearly resting on mine when he demands, “Open.”
My lips part, heedless of anything but his instruction, and I murmur, “Yes, sir.” His mouth descends on mine, minty and fresh. At least I can hope it will cover my morning breath, but once he brushes his tongue against mine, I forget all about caring.
His free hand travels down my body and settles on the small of my back, pulling me forward a little more, so I can feel his entire lower body against mine. He’s hard against my lower stomach, and my body answers his, aching in a way I don’t really even understand, but I shift against him, needing something more.
I slip my hands up his back, wishing I caught him before he buttoned his shirt. I would much rather feel his skin under my fingers. The kiss is deep and slow but doesn’t last nearly long enough. His fingers tighten on my neck right before he nips my bottom lip roughly with his teeth and pulls back.
Our foreheads are still touching, and I’m breathing embarrassingly hard, but I know he’s just as affected so I don’t mind. “I hate that I have to leave you here like this.”
“I’m fine,” I promise. Getting down the stairs is my least favorite thing about the crutches, but I manage.
“Are you sure?” He slips the hand that was on my back between our bodies and slides his fingers between my legs. He groans at the same time my breath hitches. I don’t think we were talking about the same thing.
My shorts are thin, and he ends up pushing the cotton fabric of my panties up into my cleft with the tip of his finger. I think about spreading my legs and giving him more room, but he needs to go, no matter how much I wish he didn’t.
I wrap my fingers around his wrist with the intention of moving his hand from between my legs, but he moves his finger, and I make a whimpering sound instead. Memphis clicks his tongue. “Sounds like you need my help, sweetness.” His mouth is at my ear, and he still hasn’t released his grip on my neck.
My muscles are all tense, and I’m on the edge of something that promises bliss at the touch of his finger. My eyes are heavy as I admit, “Yes,” feeling powerful that he’s still here with me when he should be leaving, yet bad at the same time for the exact same reason.
When he twists his wrist, I release the death grip I have on him, allowing him to pull his hand back at the same time he releases his hold on my neck. “Slide your shorts and panties down your legs.”
Reason trickles back into my thoughts when his hands are off me. “You need to go,” I remind him.
His hooded eyes lower even more as he peers down at me. “Waylynn.” His tone is a warning. “Unlessyoudon’t want me touching you and making you come, then take off your clothes and sit back on the fucking bed, now. I don’t give a shit what time it is.”
With trembling fingers, I hook my thumbs in the sides of my shorts and shimmy them off my thighs. Of course they get caught on the stupid cast, but Memphis doesn’t seem to notice as I sit on the edge of the bed and lift my other foot out.
Memphis
I knew havingher sit down was a bad idea. The second she does, all my good intentions of making her come quickly with my fingers evaporates. I know I’m not leaving without tasting her. I drop to my knees and grip her hips to yank her to the end of the bed.
The shaky breath she exhales shouldn’t make me harder, but it does. When I get close to her pussy, I inhale her scent. I could smell her pussy on my finger even through her panties, and I knew she’d be even more intoxicating bare. I’m already resenting the fact that I’m going to have to wash her off of me before I leave.
When I kiss the inside of her thigh, she tenses slightly. I drag my tongue up to her pussy and lick her puffy lips, tasting her. One hand goes down to my dick, but the fabric covering me makes it hard to do much more than a light squeeze, while I use the fingers of my other hand to spread her lips to slip my tongue inside her. Her back arches, and it opens her up more, so I push my tongue as deep inside her as I can get.
Her muscles tighten, and I feel her clench around my tongue. The tip of my cock is tingling, and the desire to shove myself inside her and stretch her until she’s clamped around the base of my dick builds until I can barely stand it.
“Memphis,” she pants softly, pleading for more.
I slide my tongue up and trace the letters of my name over her clit, claiming her until she’s writhing. Just as she starts to cry out with her orgasm, I slip the tip of my middle finger inside her, making her take just a little bit more of me since I can’t fuck her right now.
Her back is hovering off the bed in a beautiful arch as she cups her tits, my name on her lips and her taste on my tongue. She’s fucking stunning. I don’t stop licking her until she drags me up by pulling on the shoulder of my shirt. I’m mindful not to rub my clothes on her wet pussy as I come up. As much as I love her scent, I can’t walk around smelling like pussy while I’m teaching.
She blinks up at me with starry eyes and parted lips while her chest is still heaving. My heart is thundering in my chest, and the wordsI love youare burning my tongue with the urge to tell her.
Her head tilts to the side, and she brushes her thumb over my lip, watching my mouth as if I might have muttered the words out loud, but I know I didn’t. When her gaze comes up to meet mine, the storm that is always brewing behind her hazel eyes is calm.
