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“I don’t need any help, and my beard is just fine, thank you.”
“Let me feel.”
I balk. “You’re shittin’ me?”
She turns to face me. “What’s wrong? Scared I’ll get too attached?” The sarcasm rolls right off her with ease.
“No. I just don’t like people touchin’ me.”
“Even me?”
I swallow hard. I can’t bring my lips to form the words.
She smiles. “Are you hard right now, Rock?”
My lips part. How much more can a man take?
I turn to face her. “I bet I’m not as hard as you are wet.”
Her lips part this time as her eyes flick to my mouth.
I reach over and press the stop button. The elevator comes to a halt.
“What are you doing?”
“Let’s see,” I suggest.
Her eyes go wide. “What?”
“You wanna see how hard I am? Fine. Go for it, babe. But in return, I wanna feel how wet I make you.”
“You don’t make me wet.” I don’t know if her voice is meant to sound hoarse, but I smile in response. She’s affected.
“Really? I bet you fifty bucks you’re drippin’ thinkin’ about me goin’ down on you with my rough beard.”
A little gasp leaves her mouth as my hands ball into fists by my side. I want to touch her. I fuckin’ need to touch her.
“Oh.” She dips her eyes to my crotch and then back to my face. “I can see you’re hard.”
“Feel it.”
“Rock.”
“Feel. It.”
“You’re being very demanding.”
“You wanna know. Go right ahead.”
I don’t expect her to do it, for fuck’s sake. I’m just trying to embarrass her so she’ll shut up talking about sex. But then I see the determination in her eyes and her tongue peeks out to catch between her teeth as her eyes flick south again.
Does she want to touch it?
Before I can turn away, she reaches between my legs and cups my dick.
A groan leaves my chest as she smiles in triumph.
“Wow.”
