Page 23 of Worth the Fight

“What’s wrong with firefighters?” he asks. If I could kick myself under the table I would.

It’s a one-night stand, Dylan. One. Night. It isn’t as if I need to worry about them staying around long-term. It isn’t as if I have to worry about them leaving like my dad.

His eyes narrow, and the look he gives me demands an answer. “No firefighters,” I reply and lift my eyebrows as if to say that’s the only explanation I’m going to give him. “You’re crazy, you know that?”

“And you are so getting laid.”

CHAPTER EIGHT

GRADY

Sleep with someone.

Did I actually encourage her to get laid?

Christ, I’m sure Damon would chew me out if he knew what I did tonight. What I encouraged.

But Wes Winters isn’t all that bad. I can think of worse guys for her to sleep with. Besides, he’s nice and polite and not the kind to stick around.

So, he’s perfect.

But fuck if I’m not questioning why I suggested this. Why I called him over and initiated small talk between them. Bought them a round or two of drinks and then subtly made my exit.

The front door bounces back followed by a giggle and a laugh. There is a trail of thumps of body parts hitting walls as they make their way down the hallway.

Her door shuts, but I can still hear her.

Giggles turn to moans.

And dear fucking god. Those moans. Her moans.

Throaty and sexy and . . .

They’re enough to make me hard instantly.

Yeah, I’m definitely questioning why I did this.

And even more so, I’m questioning why my dick is in my hand and my thoughts are on Dylan and how she felt straddling me the other night. The hazy look in her eyes. The weight of her tits against the fabric of her shirt.

She’s moaning for someone else, and fuck if I’m not pretending she’s moaning for me.

The taste of her. The wine on her tongue. The buds of her nipples against my lips. Licking my way up her inner thigh.

I work my hand up my cock. Rub it over the head. Tighten my fingers and slide it back down.

Imagining her.

The heat of her tongue as those blow-job lips of hers wrap around me. Tease me. Taunt me. Suck me dry.

I squeeze the base of my shaft and work my hand up and down. Listening to her moans. Audible sex. I work myself so precum drips off the tip, and I use it as lube.

The pink of her pussy. How tight it is. How wet I make her. How she stretches around me as I pull out and then plunge back in.

Faster. Heat and pleasure. Harder. Friction and desire. Over and over.

The tense of her thighs around my hips. The scratch of her nails down my back. Her arousal coating my cock and dripping down my balls as I bury myself in her over. And over. And over.

I close my eyes and throw my head back against my pillow as my legs tense and my body begs to come.