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I slide into Joel's lap.
He wraps his arms around my waist and places his hands on top of mine. He walks me through the game's controls, then through a tutorial level, then we're starting the single-player mode.
It's difficult. My lack of hand-eye coordination doesn't help. Computer characters keep finding me. And I'm incredibly bad at aiming well enough to kill them before they kill me.
Joel laughs as he helps me finesse my skills. By my fifth death, I get the hang of aiming.
I actually enjoy the second level. Even if it takes me far too many tries to get through it.
By the third
level, I finally get why people sink hours and hours into video games. This is fun.
Joel presses his lips to my neck. "You're kicking ass, angel."
I laugh as I die, again. "I'm not sure about that."
He drags his lips over my skin. "Want to test your concentration?"
He slips one hand under my t-shirt.
His fingers brush my stomach.
He slides his hand up my torso.
"Joel," I breathe.
"Yeah?" His voice gets rough, needy.
The controller slips from my hands and lands on the floor with a thud. I no longer care about the video game.
I no longer care about anything but Joel's hands on my skin.
He cups my breasts, rubbing my nipples with the pads of his thumbs. The friction sends waves of pleasure to my core.
I need this distraction.
But I also need his touch.
I trust him.
I want him.
Fuck, there are too many feelings swirling around my stomach. I want this to be just sex.
But I want more than that with Joel.
I press my neck against his mouth.
He growls as he sucks on my skin. His hands stay on my breasts. He toys with my nipples again and again.
I get achy.
Desperate.
"Don't stop," I groan.
He rubs me with soft, slow strokes. His groans vibrate down my neck as he drags his lips over my skin. The softness of the gesture makes me achier.
