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“Why are you going to New York?” Chris asked the question almost casually while he undid his jeans and started pulling them down. Dark blue briefs and a bulge to write stories about, by the way.
“Is that really important right now?”
“I prefer to know someone before I put my dick in them. That’s all.”
I opened my mouth, not sure how to respond. Chris saved me the trouble when he moved toward me, both of us still clad in our underwear. He cupped my chin like he was making sure I wasn’t about to change my mind. Then his mouth crashed against mine.
His lips were like velvet waves I could get lost in. His tongue was the riptide, threatening to pull me out so far to sea that I’d never be able to swim back. The only thing to do was ride the wave—and potentially his cock, I was dirtily inclined to note.
He broke from my lips and kissed my neck. Warmth exploded across my skin like a chemical reaction. Rationality and logic started to dim until only the base, instinctual thoughts were punching through the haze.
Hot man.
Kissing me.
Want more.
Rebound sex.
That last thought was enough to temporarily zing me out of the brain fog. I was rebounding, wasn’t I? Meaningless, cheap sex to take away the sting of what happened with Lance. But was that so wrong of me?
“You never answered my question,” Chris breathed into my neck between kisses. He was taking handfuls of my breasts now, rubbing the occasional circle around my hardening nipples with the pad of this thumb. His knee had also found its way between my legs, and I could feel my dampness soaking through to his skin.
“You kissed me before I could.”
“Fair.” Chris bent, sucking my nipple into my mouth and making me gasp.
“Could you—”
“Stop?” he asked, looking up from my breast. “No. I don’t think I could unless you commanded it.”
I closed my eyes, looking up to the ceiling. “I’m going to New York for a meeting, if you’re so—ahh,” I had to stop to bite my lip when he slid his hand in the front of my panties. He took a greedy, exploratory path that led his middle finger down past my clit where it hooked into my entrance. I was wet enough that he glided in effortlessly. He somehow found the magical place to apply pressure against my walls, shocking a surprised breath out of me and making me clench all over—including down there, which only intensified the feeling.
Chris grinned up at me, then took my earlobe between his lips and kissed softly. “You’re tight around my finger. Not sure my dick is going to fit.”
I decided to take his excuse for a distraction and run with it. I focused on the question he’d asked instead of the blitzkrieg attack on my senses.
Letting myself stay focused on what his mouth and hands were doing felt like the path to oblivion—mutually assured destruction. I’d decided to swear off relationships after Lance because I knew how easily I drifted into that dangerous state of existence. This needed to be meaningless. Casual.
So I kept talking, even though every nerve in my body was practically singing with ecstasy and he’d only just started.
“I had business in Texas, but it went south. There was an offer from New York.” I paused again, squeezing my eyes when he added a second finger to the mix between my legs. His thumb was extended, applying friction to my clit with every luxurious plunge of his fingers inside me. “I wasn’t sure about the deal,” I said tightly. “But after Texas, I knew I’d be crazy to pass on it. So that’s where I’m going.”
“Business,” Chris mused, as if he wasn’t knuckle deep inside me and currently sending me at warp speed toward the most explosive orgasm of my life. “So you’re a career woman. I like that.”
“I’m glad you approve,” I said with a touch of sarcasm.
“What kind of business?”
I might’ve normally snapped. I could’ve told him it was ridiculous to try to have a conversation while he fucked me with his fingers. But it really did feel like I was clinging to the distraction to avoid something. I couldn’t say what it was exactly, but there was a very real, very hard to pinpoint sensation that I was balancing on the edge of a cliff.
“Your turn,” I said. I had to pause, burying my face in his chest to stifle a moan. I gathered myself, with difficulty, and began questioning him. “Why are you going to New York?”
“It’s where I play football, for starters.”
“And where this mysterious indoctrination to the church is happening tonight, right?”
Chris’ fingers paused their relentless attack on my pussy, if only for a moment. He grinned slightly, then resumed. “That’s enough talking. And if you thought I was going to let you off that easily…” he straightened, pulling his fingers from me and then lifting them to my mouth. “Taste yourself,” he commanded.
