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Natalie grips the back of my neck, and I wrap my arms around her, bending to meet her as she lifts onto her toes.
Just like before, we crash together.
And just like before, there’s not much fabric between us.
But unlike before, this time, we’re all alone.
I part my lips, and Natalie swipes her tongue into my mouth.
She’s not holding back.
So neither will I.
Groaning, I grip her ass with both hands and lift her into the air.
But before she can hook her legs around my sides, I toss her onto the mattress.
She bounces once with a yelp, and I follow her.
I want to pull her shirt off.
I want to suck those damn nipples into my mouth. The ones straining against her thin top, screaming for me to give them attention.
But we have all night. And I need more of her mouth.
Natalie widens her legs, so when I crawl over her and lower myself on top of her, my hardness lines up perfectly with her thin shorts.
She tangles her hands in my shirt and pulls me closer.
Savoring the feel of her reaching for me, I oblige.
Our tongues mingle.
She tastes like mint and sugar.
Her hands roam.
My body reacts.
I roll my hips against her.
Someone knocks on the door.
We freeze.
Our lips are still touching, but we’ve stopped moving.
We stare at each other, eyes inches apart.
“Nat, it’s me,” a man calls through the door. “I brought ice cream.”
Natalie lets out a quiet groan. But it’s not the good kind of groan.
“Who is he?” I ask, not pulling away, so each word has our lips brushing.
Natalie closes hereyes. “My dad.”
Fuck.
