Page 46 of Apparently, I’m A B!tch

The tease in her voice made the both of us relax, and Shawn let out a laugh while babbling more of his apologies. I turned and waved him back to the counter after she assured him for the fifth time that she was fine.

“It is looking kind of red, though,” she admitted as she winced up at me.

“You might be inflamed, but I can fix it.” I gathered her in my arms and lifted her, enjoying the sound of her surprised laugh and the way she wrapped her arms around my neck.

She stared into my face and waggled her brows as she teased, “My hero. Carry me to your den and have your way with me.”

I laughed as I made my way to the backroom, completely unaffected by Lilly and Shawn’s earnest stares. “If you insist, my lady.”

It wasn’t until I kicked the door of my studio apartment closed and laid her on my bed, leaning over her, that the laughter fled her eyes.

Her breath came in short and sharp as I traced a finger along the neckline of her soaked dress. With her hands braced against my mattress, fingers gripping the sheets, lips parted open… a familiar pounding was circulating through my body until I could feel myself harden at the sight of her here, in the very place where I fantasized about touching and tasting her naked skin until she arched that beautiful body against me, pleasure racing through her as she came.

I was about to take a tighter hold of her, desperate to add some realism to my fantasies, when she asked, “What… did you bring me here for, Tristan?”

Right. She was burned. I was supposed to give her something to help soothe it.

I dragged myself away from her and turned to my fridge. “Butter for burns, right?”

“What?”

After collecting a container of butter, I opened the lid and held the contents out to her. She stared at it and at me, biting the edge of her lip as if she was trying to figure out if I was serious or not.

“Butter is for burns,” I repeated. Surely she knew the old adage as well as I did?

“Here.” I put the butter down on my bedside table and dug my fingers into the container.

I turned to her with yellow clumps wedged between my fingers and she surprised me by reaching behind her to unzip the neck of her dress. Instantly, my hardness twitched at the sight of her undressing, but my excitement was cut short as she paused and looked up at me expectantly.

“You’re not really going to rub butter on my breasts, are you?”

I straightened. Fuck. What a presumptuous dick-bag did I have to be to assume she’d be okay with me touching her like that?

But her lips quirked into a playful smirk as she put her fingers to her neckline and dragged it down, revealing two of the perkiest, prettiest breasts I’d ever seen.

I was paralyzed. Standing there with a thick hard-on, with butter on my fingers, completely paralyzed by the sight of Nikki’s breasts.

And all I could say was, “No bra?”

My voice was barely a whisper. Nikki must’ve found what I said funny. She giggled up at me, her breasts jiggling enticingly.

I let out a noise, totally out of my depth, and she reached out, gripped my wrists and pulled me to her until my hands were grasping her chest.

“I want you to touch me,” she whispered, and any shred of control I had was torn away.

I knelt over her, my hands smoothing butter along her skin as I bent to taste her. I sent my mouth along her neck, nuzzling against the sensitive spot I knew was behind her ear. She moaned against me, her hands gripping the back of my head as I trailed gentle kisses along her jaw. When I parted her lips with my tongue, the feel of her sent a rush through me.

She was warm, her skin hot to the touch as I took her breasts into my hands and rubbed my thumb across her nipples. I was out of my mind, so turned on I couldn’t think. All I knew was I needed some relief. My cock was rock hard; it strained against the fly of my jeans. I took a hand from her breast to grip onto her ass, not sparing a thought for the butter I plastered onto her, and pulled her to the edge of the bed. The friction of the mattress against her skirt lifted the hem of her dress, and she opened her legs wide, moaning and gripping me tight as I pinned her down, my hardness against her soft lace-covered wetness.

My mouth left hers and I pulled a buttery nipple into my mouth, rasping my tongue against it as my fingers found the edge of her underwear. She was slick… so wet. A rush of pure want pounded through me and I tortured us both by skimming a finger along the fabric.

“Tristan,” she moaned. “Please. I need more.”

I licked her nipple one more time before chuckling against it. She arched, her body shivering as my warm breath brushed against her breast.

“Tell me what you need. Say it.”

“Tristan,” she whined, desperate.