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This time, I don't hesitate.
"Touch the ground."
My... Uh...
"Now."
I must be going out of my mind. Because I'm not stopping him. I'm not saying what's wrong with you?
There isn't a single part of me that objects.
I want to be on display for him.
This on display for him.
I roll from my hips as slowly as I can.
There.
My fingers skim the hardwood.
Then it's my palms.
Thank God for my exercise routine. I can hold this position for as long as I need to.
He moves closer. So his crotch is against mine. So I can feel his hard-on against my sex.
He's hard from the sight of me.
Fuck, it's thrilling.
Intoxicating.
Those damn jeans are in the way, but still, that's Brendon pressed against me.
Almost mine.
God, I need him to be mine.
This is the kind of pure, overwhelming desire I've been missing the last year.
It hurts.
But in the best possible way.
He brings his hands to my waist and peels my torso up. Until it's pressed against his, my back against his chest, my ass against his crotch, my head against his chin.
He holds me in place with one hand.
Runs the other up and down my side. My hip. My ass. My chest.
This time, his thumb brushes my nipple.
Fuck, that feels good.
I let out a groan.
Another.
