Page 51 of Sexy

“You want me to imagine taking off your bra.” His hand slips down my back as he pushes his whole body even further into my lap. And then it’s on the clasp of my bra.

I swallow hard.

“You want me to”—he unsnaps my bra like a pro, and it comes loose, billowing out in front of me with the soft current of the wind—“think about making a move.”

He’s making a move all right.

“And then, just to keep the fantasy going”—he slides the bra down my arms until it’s in my lap. My nipples perk up from the light spray of the lake waves as they push against the rocks—“you take something off.”

“Fletcher—”

But I stop. Because his hands are behind my neck, pulling my face into his weaving hips. He threads his fingers through my hair and up my scalp. That chill up my spine turns into a full-blown tremble.

“You want me to think you’ll kiss me, Tiffy.” He releases my hair and then his palms are alongside my cheeks, cupping me with force. Not hard, but not soft either. Like he’s preparing me for what’s to come.

What’s coming?

He bows down, his forehead pressing against mine, but he is still too far away. “You want to make me want you. More than anything else, you want me to want you, right now, in this moment.”

I want him. Holy fuck, I want him. Let me be your fantasy, Fletcher.

His knees rest on either side of my thighs, and then I feel his ass moving across the top of them. Back and forth. Slowly and then even more slowly. He gyrates against me, the heat of his sex appeal crashing against me like the waves against the rocks.

“You want to make me touch you, Tiffy.” I know he’s still in teacher mode, but I don’t care. I reach for him. My fingers find his belt loops and hook around them. I tug him just a little bit closer as I stare into his eyes.

“Then I’ll say, Kiss me, Tiffy.” And his head dips down further, his lips so close to mine, the kiss is all but inevitable.

But he pauses. I can feel his breath on my lips. I can smell his scent in my nose. He smells like a man. And sweat. And sand. And water. And wind.

“But remember,” he says, tipping my chin up a little so our lips bump ever so slightly against one another, “you have to make me beg for it. I have to beg for it or you don’t give it up. Because the lap dance, Tiffy, is a test. It’s your chance,” he whispers over the music of the lake, “to be sexy. To be desired. To be in control. You’re all mine. But it’s a fantasy, and I have to beg for it.”

And then I can’t stand it anymore. I move that fraction of an inch and taste him.

He grips my head, pushing his mouth against mine. His tongue doesn’t dance like last time, it’s hard and pushing. Seeking more from me.

I give him more. I unhook my fingers from his belt loops and slide my hands down his thighs. His legs are well-muscled and his jeans are hot from the sun.

He moans into my mouth, reaches for my hand, and places it over his hard cock.

God. I have never wanted a man to fuck me so much.

I pull back for a minute and we both catch our breath. The next few moments float in my head. “How would you beg for it, Fletch?” I ask him. “How would you make me want you back?”

He kisses me one more time and then moves backwards.

Holy fuck. He’s gonna leave me like this.

“You don’t have to worry about that, princess. No man in his right mind wouldn’t want you right now. And I’m no different.”

We stare at each other for a few seconds. And then he picks up my bra and places it in my hands. “But we better get back. I think your clothes are dry and I’ve gotta get ready for the show.”

He gets up off my lap and goes hunting for his shirt. I watch him as he pulls it over his head, taking note of the defined muscles in his abs. He doesn’t look at me once he’s dressed again, just gathers up my drying clothes off the rock and turns back to hand them over.

“I hope you plan on getting dressed. Because if you try to walk home naked, I’ll be kicking a lot of ass on the way.”

I shake myself out of his trance and slide my bra up my arms. But before I can reach around to hook it, he’s there, his fingers light as they brush against my back and do it for me.

He takes my hand once my bra is on and pulls me to my feet. And I stand there as he dresses me. The shirt is mostly dry, and it flutters over my head and settles on my hips. He opens up my pants and holds them open for me. “Step in, Tiffy. We gotta go.”