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“That sounds like ageism to me, eight years is nothing, baby girl.” Whit growled and the vibration of his voice made me hotter, impossibly wetter. How in the heck was I not ruffled by him calling me baby? His touch made me forget I shouldn’t have liked the nickname.

“Your death would likely scare me off from men completely further condemning me to a life of furry feline ownership.”

Whit guffawed.

“We can’t have that, now can we, chatterbox?” Babbling with embarrassment, he played with my hair, twisting loose locks from my braid around his fingers to release them into thick straight pokes of hair.

“Definitely not.” I tried to take my hair from his fingers, but Whit was persistent, so I gave up, letting him play with it. The movement was surprisingly soothing. “Purpl

e, huh.” He rubbed the strands against his fingers using the firelight to examine the color.

“It won’t match the…uh…rest obviously.”

Seriously, I had zero filter.

“Match what, Lia?” He moved against me refusing to let me go as we tussled on the floor shifting blankets, exposing skin and hissing when chilled parts touched.

I grumbled knowing he’d make me say it. “My p-pussy, you jerk.” Whit laughed out loud before squeezing me tight against him.

“I should hope not, but thanks for clarifying.”

“Ugh!” My eyes rolled as he cleared what I’m sure were tears of laughter from his own eyes.

“But maybe I should check just in case you have any other surprises down there? Piercings? Tattoos?” His head moved downward. My eyes bulged and I grabbed him to pull him back up.

“You better not be eyeing up my pussy.” It was hard to be serious when I thought about what he could have seen just a month prior. I thanked Heaven I remembered to grow out my thunderbolt trimming down below. That had been a asinine idea born out of celibacy, a stupid magazine, and too much cheap wine I wasn’t even old enough to buy.

Whit stilled and looked me over thoughtfully before saying, “It’s strange, but I’d swear you have a thing against cats.” He licked his lips and I sighed.

“Personally no, but I dislike their judgy looking eyes and their desire to kill their owners when it suits them.”

“Not to be an asshole, but you’re kind of killing the mood here, sweetheart. I’d like to get back to eye-fucking your kitty.” His chuckle sent a blush over my skin and a zing right down between my legs saturating me. I clamped them shut, squeezing his hand that was so delightfully stroking me a moment ago.

“Ah, well, I told you I’d put my mouth to good use later.” God, he felt so good working me over slipping not one but two fingers between folds spreading my lubrication. A free hand caressed reaching up to squeeze my breast as he pinched my nipple sharply. He kept my brain quiet with sensory overload. I had nothing pithy to say, no connecting thoughts of value.

“Hmm.” Whit shifted us and I found myself on my back, his knees slipped between my open legs. A draft of cool air hit my inner thighs and I clamped down hard again eliciting a groan from the man wedged between them.

“Open up, baby girl.” He coaxed petting my skin like I’d become a skittish thing underneath him. My legs fell open wider and he adjusted me thusly. Heat from the fire licked my skin and I buzzed with anticipation.

Looking up, his face over mine, boyishly handsome in his adult body. I blinked a few times, wondering how I got so lucky that it was him who saved me and said a little hallelujah. His short unruly hair, tingled against the pads of my fingertips. My eyes flitted to his lips, which he’d licked, and I gulped down dry air. “I don’t suppose you’d like to drive the point home anytime soon, boy scout?”

His hand gripped my panties stretching them. The bite of lacy cotton and elastic stimulated my core and zinged down my legs.

“Am I boring you, Lia?” Whit pressed deep against me and my groan was probably audible on the other side of the mountain with the jerk of his body into mine. His cock stretched me impossibly wide and I knew I’d feel him tomorrow, maybe next week as he ground into me.

“N-not at all.” What could possibly be boring about more than eight hard inches of all male anatomy pressed against me?

Nothing.

Nothing at all.

8

Whit

She winked at me, the damn siren, running her smartass mouth. I wanted to drive a lot of things home right then, but having an attractive and willing female who was giving me as good as I got me turned on. I grunted feeling my dick pulse inside her tight little pussy, the lace of her panties scraping against me. She was funny, self-deprecating, and refreshing. Her dirty talk bordered on being an ethics treaty wrapped in sin. I hadn’t thought that way about a woman in long time let alone found one that was my contemporary. What were a few years difference in age? Only a number, right?

My forearms rested wide, holding me up over her so I could look down at her face. The firelight played tricks on my eyes, making hers glow and her hair sparked shades of red and deep purple in the refracted light from the darker mahogany strands.

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