Page 55 of More Than My Hometown

“Tell me about them, baby.”

His hand stops, a rough, callused finger dragging against my skin, sending goose bumps up me. I want him to touch me so badly I can taste it. But I know he’s not going to. He’s making it perfectly clear that he’s enjoying this.

Shifting, I try to take matters into my own hands, searching out that delicious friction all on my own. I lean forward, kissing him, soft, slow, then drag my hips forward, but Ewan catches on, yanking his hand back.

“Tsk, naughty girl…”

Fuuuuuck…

“I mean it, Maisey,” he says, his voice low and deep. It sends a rumble through me, one I feel deep in my soul, settling where I need it the most. “I want to hear all about how you touch yourself. What gets you there. What makes your toes curl and that perfect pussy of yours wet.”

You…

I swallow hard, buying time to catch my breath to answer him. Sliding my hand down my body, I slip it into my panties, right where his was, but unlike him, I don’t stop. I go all the way, my fingers finding my wet curls, sliding through my slickness to the part of me that is aching to be touched.

Ewan groans watching me, letting me play for a second, fire flashing in his eyes.

“I like to start slow,” I say, my voice barely above a whisper. Sucking in a deep breath, I shift again, trying to get a better angle.

Until Ewan stops me.

Grabbing my wrist, he lifts my hand, sliding it out from between us and lifting it to his mouth. One by one, he takes my fingers in his mouth, sucking them clean—savoring the taste of me right off them.

Oh, holy hell…

“Show me.”

In a flash, he flips us over, easing me onto my back on the floor of the tent. He looms over me, his large frame blocking most of the light from outside the tent, the fluorescent glow just enough to crack through the moment and remind me where we are.

The Booby Trap.

“Here? Now?” Panic whips through me, the reminder that the store is technically still open suddenly flashing through my brain like a neon billboard. “What if someone comes upstairs? Dennis?”

Ewan winks, turning around and zipping up the door flap to the tent, closing us in. I laugh, my heart soaring at his ingenuity. There’s a part of me that still wants to argue that Dennis or a customer could walk upstairs and see that something is going on in the tent, but if Ewan isn’t bothered, then neither am I.

“Now, where were we?” he asks, turning back to me, hands on my hips, yanking my pants off me. “Oh, that’s right. You were going to show me how you play with your pretty little pussy.”

I’ve never understood the appeal of dirty talk, all of it sounding silly whenever my friends have talked about it. But here, now, listening to those words come from Ewan, I’d do whatever he asked to make him say them again and again.

“You wanna see?”

I prop myself up on my elbows so that I can see Ewan, spreading my legs so that all of me is on display. A new set of nerves reveal themselves as Ewan’s eyes dance over my body, slowly drinking me in. It may not be the first time he’s seen me naked—or even the first time he’s touched me—but it’s the first time I’ve ever offered myself up like this. Shown someone this side of me and allowed them into this space. Let myself be vulnerable.

I can’t imagine it being anyone other than Ewan.

He nods, eyes still glued to me, like I’m the Venus de Milo. Or the Mona Lisa. Or some other priceless work of art.

“I like to start slow. Gentle, light touches, working my way from my outside in,” I tell him, reaching in between my legs and starting to trace along the outside of my pussy. “I’ll play up here sometimes, but mostly focus down here.”

Slowly, I circle my clit, trying to avoid direct contact, knowing that I’m not ready for this to be over. My heart pounds in my chest, each beat of it felt throughout my body, the rhythm of it setting a pace for me as I move. I get lost in the beat, in my movements, the pleasure starting to take over, keeping my eyes on Ewan the whole time.

There’s something new and erotic about him watching me do this. Something that has always been so private. So intimate. Now it’s something shared.

Letting out a groan, Ewan’s eyes darken and he moves, breaking our eye contact for a second. I gasp, but he’s right there a second later, swallowing that gasp with his kiss, covering my hand with his.

“Tell me, baby,” he says, his mouth right at my ear, his voice sounding borderline feral. “What are you thinking about when you do this?”

I swallow hard. Truth time.