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The fact that I had been having more than a few vivid sex dreams about him. And maybe even some fully awake sex fantasies.
What can I say? He was the ultimate hot bad boy with an underlying goodness.
And, well, I'd accidentally caught him with his shirt off more than a few times now which wasn't helping my resolve to keep my hands off of him.
I mean, the man had the kind of abs you wanted to lick something off of. Whipped cream chocolate sauce, his own damn sweat after working out, I wasn't picky.
We didn't even need to talk about his arms. Or his back. Or his ass. Good, God, his ass.
"Huck..." I said, shaking my head because my lips refused to say the words my mind told me I was supposed to say.
"You tell me with any kind of honesty that you don't want me, and I'm out, babe," he told me. "Won't stand here like this again," he added, his hand moving out, resting on the side of my neck, gliding down. "Won't touch you like this," he said, fingertips gliding over my clavicle. "Or this," he went on when my breathing went fast and shallow, his fingertip grazing over my hardening nipple. He teased over it, making it tighten, press against the fabric of my shirt. "And definitely not this," he said, hand leaving my breast to press between my thighs, making me do a sharp intake of breath.
His air rushed out of his nose as his fingers shifted, finding my clit through my leggings and panties, dragging a choked whimper out of me.
"You want me to stop?" he asked, a question and somehow a challenge at the same time, daring me to deny what it was clear my body wanted.
"No," I admitted, my gaze holding his as his finger started to work circles over my clit with a practiced perfection. My forehead pressed into his shoulder, my eyes drifting closed, slipping into the moment, into the sensations.
Huck's free hand went to the back of my neck for a long moment as his hand moved upward, slipping under my panties, gliding over my cleft with nothing in the way, dragging a moan out of me and a rumbling, approving sound out of him.
Huck's thumb went to my clit as his other fingers slid down, pressed against the opening of my body for a long second before surging inside, thrusting lazily as his thumb drove me upward.
"No, don't stop," I whined when his hand suddenly moved out of my pants.
"Sh," he demanded, hands grabbing at the waistbands of my pants and panties, drawing them down, lowering to his knees as he went, mirroring that other night in his room.
Except, this time, when his face was level with my sex, he didn't avert his eyes, he didn't move to stand again.
No.
His hand slid up the back of my calf, lifting, spreading, opening me up to him. As soon as I was, he leaned forward, his tongue tracing up my cleft, finding my clit, and moving over it in fast, relentless circles, driving me up hard and fast.
"Huck, I—" I started, my hands pressing down on his shoulders, trying to force my legs to keep holding my weight even as my thighs started to shake.
On a growling noise, his hands moved to my hips, grabbing, sinking in, turning, then tossing me back, making my stomach drop as I free-fell for a second before my back bounced off the mattress.
I barely had a second to register the new position before his hands were grabbing my legs, spreading them wide on the mattress before his lips were on me again, sucking my clit hard before his tongue moved out again, working me with more pressure as his fingers thrust back inside, turning, curling against my top wall, driving me up hard and fast.
I barely had a chance to realize it was coming before the orgasm slammed through my system, stealing my voice, my breath, and for one short, unexpected second, my vision too. There was just whiteness all around as the waves crashed through my system, kept pulling me under, as Huck licked and rubbed, dragged it out until I was a trembling mass of overworked nerve endings.
Only then did he push up, planting his hands on either side of my chest, hovering over me, waiting for my eyes to drift open.
When they did, I found a cocky smile on his stupidly handsome face. I couldn't even begrudge him it. He'd earned that smile.
"So," he said, lips twitching. "Are you in the mood to cook now?"
Surprised, a laugh bubbled up and burst out of me as I looked up at him.
"Food?" I asked, smiling. "Food is what is on your mind right now?"
"Well, this was just an appetizer," he said, moving to stand, running his thumb over his lower lip, slipping it inside his mouth, tasting me again. "I'm still hungry."
