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Expertly balancing the pot in the hand where she already had that crap on her fingers, she used the other, clean hand to grab my shirt and hold me in place. She climbed onto the sofa next to me, on her knees, and pinned me in place with her fist.
“Sit still. I don’t want to get it in your eyes,” she ordered.
“This is the most ridiculous thing you’ve ever made me do. I should just hand in my man-card.” I met her eyes. “Not to mention that I can still get away from you, given that you have the upper-body strength of a newborn giraffe.”
She sniffed. “But you won’t.”
I quirked a brow at her.
Then moved.
Shelby squealed, moving faster than I thought possible once again, hooking one leg around my waist as I moved onto my side. We went down together, me twisting so I was lying on my back, and her straddling me.
Heat flushed through my veins at the feel of her thighs on either side of my waist and her hand flat on my chest.
She was sitting on top of me.
Right on top of my dick that was twitching like a fifteen-year-old’s in front of a Playboy magazine.
I swallowed hard, and she froze, inhaling through a small hole in her now-cemented-in-place lips.
Something flashed in her eyes, something indiscernible, and her throat bobbed with her own swallow.
“Well,” she said through her tight face. “This worked out well.”
I didn’t say a word as she sat up a little straighter, then scooped some of the facemask onto her fingers and smeared it across my forehead. I didn’t say a word as her fucking bare thighs rubbed against my hips when her constant leaning forward and sitting back up made my shirt ride up.
It was taking all my self-control not to toss that goddamn pot at the fucking wall and kiss her. Taking everything I had to control my most base desires not to let my cock get as hard as it should have been right in that moment.
She was moving and wriggling, leaning left and right and back and forth as she smeared this stupid shit all over my face, and I let her because I was afraid that if she stopped, I’d grab her and do something I’d regret in ten minutes.
So I gritted my teeth and let her get on with it.
She didn’t seem to be affected by the fact she was practically sitting right on top of my cock, so I wouldn’t let her know that I was.
The woman was a menace.
If I wasn’t careful, she’d be my downfall.
Maybe she already was, with her tight ass touching my thighs and her soft fingers rubbing green shit into my face and her brown eyes shining with laughter.
“There.” She sat back, pressing herself right against my cock, and examined her handiwork.
My cock twitched, slowly hardening at the extra pressure on it. If she noticed, she didn’t say anything, but her chest did rise and fall more sharply than it had been a second ago.
I think.
I was too busy trying not to get a fucking erection.
“See? That wasn’t so bad, was it?” she said brightly.
Too brightly.
“Shelby,” I ground out.
She slid her way down my body, making my nostrils flare, and got up. “I need to wash my hands. Be right back,” she garbled out, her voice too high and her words all stringing together. “Be right back!” she repeated again, disappearing into the bathroom quicker than I could tell her to wait.
Pushing myself up from the sofa into a sitting position, I adjusted my pants. Thank God they were sweatpants because the second the bathroom door clicked shut a little too loudly, my cock sprang to life like it had a fucking switch on it.
I groaned, shutting my eyes.
With any luck, she hadn’t felt the semi that’d been plaguing me for the last few minutes.
Given the fact she’d been sitting right on it, I doubted that was the case.
Fucking awesome.
CHAPTER NINE – SHELBY
Do Not Think About Jay Naked
I grabbed the towel to dry my hands and leaned against the door.
My entire body felt like it was on fire, especially my cheeks, and my heart was beating like mad. My exit from the living room had been obviously awkward, and that just made my cheeks burn hotter beneath the facemask.
It’d only been a joke.
I’d only planned on teasing him.
Then he’d fallen on the sofa, and I’d laughed, and he’d moved, and I’d—
Oh, God, it was all me. I’d hooked my leg around his body like he was a tree and I was a koala bear. Momentum had done the rest, and the next thing I knew, I was practically giving him a gentle dry-hump as he lay there and let me put this mask on his face.
He’d felt it, too, hadn’t he?
Oh, God.
I needed to leave the country.
