“You lead the way.”
Though honestly, I bet she could find my place in a heartbeat if I just gave her the address.
TWO
Tilly
“Ithought you said you weren’t from town?” I raise an eyebrow as I look around the furnished apartment. I had sort of assumed she was staying with someone—or at the local motel.
“It belongs to my family,” she says, kicking off her heels. Part of me wishes she kept them on; I wouldn’t mind seeing them over my shoulder. I kick off my Doc Martens and follow City Girl inside.
I have to admit, theno namesthing is different, but it isn’t bad. Right now, everyone in town knows I’m grieving, and it’s nice to escape that for a bit. My friends know I have a habit of seducing the tourists, so they won’t be worried. One of the only good things about being in a touristy town are the women who pop in from time to time. Most of them wear Chanel perfume, carry Coach bags on their arms, and wear heels that make them taller than me. Not that I need a butch to match me—I love all women—but that nose-in-the-air nonsense? I can’t handle it. So far, City Girl seems okay in that department.
“Mac?” I realize I’ve been dazed for a few moments, because I missed the last thing she said. I’m not drunk or anything, just happily tipsy.
“Sorry, I missed that. What did you say?”
“I asked if you want the lights on or off,” she says with a laugh. She’s taken off her cheetah print sweater, and she’s next to the light switch.
“Oh, whatever you want.” I shrug. The streetlight pours in through the window, and when she turns the lights off, it creates a surprisingly intimate glow.
I slip my flannel off and toss it onto the chair next to the bed. City Girl unzips her pencil skirt, letting it fall to her feet before stepping over it and placing it on the chair. She slides off her blouse as I take off my jeans. My eyes are on her breasts, perched perfectly in a lace bra that looks uncomfortable as hell, but God what it does to me. Her curves are only highlighted with this lighting. God, she’s fucking sexy as hell. She walks over to the bed, and I slide off my black T-shirt, climbing onto the bed next to her.
“Why do I get the feeling I’ll need a safe word with you?” she jokes.
“You can have one, City Girl.” I smirk.
“Just stay away from my ass, and we’re good.”
“Same here.” I nod.
She pushes me onto the bed and climbs on top of me. She hovers, like she’s afraid of me or something, and I pull her body down onto mine. Her soft skin melts into me, her lips crashing into mine. Her cool hands find a home at my waist, and I can’t keep mine still—I need to touch every inch of her.
She sucks gently on my lip, and I moan into her mouth. My hands slip around her back, unhooking her bra in record time. She stops kissing me just long enough to sit up, toss it aside, and lean back down to kiss me again.
She kicks my knees apart and slides her thick thigh between my hips. I groan.
“Fuck,” I grumble.
Her thigh presses right against my clit through my boxers, sending a pulse through me that makes my whole body shiver.
I reach for her breasts—full, soft, spilling out of my hands—and lean up to take a nipple in my mouth. I tug with my teeth, and she gasps, tossing her head back in pleasure. Her hips buck as my other hand finds her other nipple, pinching until she’s whimpering.
Her hand slips between us, and her fingertips brush against my core.
“I think you’re wearing too much, Mac,” she whispers in my ear.
I nod, breathless.
She slides off me, and I stand to strip the rest of my clothes while she peels off her wet panties and tosses them across the room.
Fuck. Her pussy is so pink, so wet she’s dripping.
I climb back onto the bed, kneeling between her legs. She scoots down toward me, and I spread her open with my hand. She’s perfectly waxed except for a neat little landing strip.
I lean in and lick her, and her hips jerk toward my face.
A groan rips out of me as I taste her—wet, sweet, perfect. She hooks her legs over my shoulders, her thighs clenching as I suck her clit.
