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“What kind of thinking?” she asked, brows pinching a little.
“What?”
“What kind of thinking about me? About like… sex stuff?” she asked.
“Not gonna lie to you, baby. Yeah, I think about fucking you more than is probably healthy. But it’s more than that. You know it’s more than that.”
“How would I know it’s more than that when you won’t talk to me?”
“I climbed through your fucking window. I boiled my balls in that tub with you,” I said, surprising her enough to make her let out a choked laugh. “I sat with you and stroked your hair until you fell asleep. I don’t do that shit, Dell. I fuck a woman for one night then never think about her again. I can’t fucking stop thinking about you. I—“
I didn’t get to finish that sentence.
Because she was suddenly yanking me down by the front of my shirt and sealing her lips over mine.
Any thoughts of working out our shit flew out of my head the second she let out a sweet little sigh against my mouth.
All I could focus on then was getting more of those sounds out of her.
My hand went to the back of her neck, holding on as I deepened the kiss, as my tongue moved inside to toy with hers.
Her good arm went up, grabbing the side of my neck, which was probably as far as she could raise it without getting some blinding pain shooting through her side.
“Jass, please,” she begged, her hips wiggling against me. “I need you,” she told me, voice tight and airless.
“What do you need?” I asked, teeth nipping her lower lip. “You need my hands?” I asked, cupping one between her thighs, feeling the heat of her through the material of her panties and pants. “Or my tongue?” I asked, tracing her lower lip with mine, feeling a shiver move through her.
“I need you inside me,” she told me, her words like a lightning bolt to the fucking cock.
I would have given her my hands or my mouth if that was what she wanted.
But what I needed was to feel her tight pussy closing around me, pulling me in. Then clutching my cock as she came around me, milking my orgasm from me.
“Come on. I’ll pick the lock,” I said, trying to inch her toward the old deli door. Like the first time.
“No. No, I can’t wait,” she said, her hips rocking against the hand I had cupping her pussy. “Please, Jass,” she begged.
And, well, I damn sure wasn’t going to deny her.
I grabbed her, turning her, knowing that she could keep her pants mostly on if I fucked her from behind, then freed my cock and slipped a condom on.
“Please,” she whimpered, tipping her ass at me.
I didn’t waste another second.
My cock slammed into her.
Hard.
Deep.
And, fuck if it didn’t feel like coming home.
“Oooh,” she whimpered, her head falling back against my chest. “Oh, my God. I missed this,” she admitted, her hips starting to move in slow circles, making my cock press against her walls. “I missed you,” she added, reaching down for my hand, pulling it up, interlocking our fingers, then pressing them against her good shoulder. “Jass, move. Please,” she whimpered as her circles got faster and faster.
I found myself oddly transfixed at that moment, devouring her words, the sweet, desperate way she said them, the way her hand clung to mine.
But as her pussy got tighter around my cock, I had no choice but to give her what she wanted. What we both wanted.
“Shh,” I demanded as I started to fuck her and her whimpers started to get louder.
My other hand moved around her, but instead of clamping over her mouth, my two middle fingers slipped inside, muffling the sound a bit as I fucked her faster and faster, aware that we wouldn’t be undiscovered forever.
“That’s it,” I said as I felt that one last hard tightening. “Fuck, baby, come for me,” I demanded, rocking harder and faster into her, feeling my own orgasm just seconds away. “Fuck,” I hissed as her pussy spasmed around my cock, dragging me along into an orgasm that damn near made my fucking legs give out.
I was still trying to get myself back together when Dell stiffened and cried out.
“What was that?” she hissed, straightening.
“What was what?” I asked, taking a deep, steadying breath.
“I heard something.”
“It was probably a rat,” I said, getting an elbow to the rib in response.
“Don’t say that!” she hissed, pulling away from me.
“Would you rather it was a person?” I asked, reaching down to pull her panties and pants back into place.
“Honestly? Yes.”
“Scared of rats, baby?” I asked, finding that unexpectedly endearing.
“Afraid is the wrong word,” she told me, turning around as I tucked myself away. “Disgusted is the right one,” she informed me, grimacing.
“Good to know,” I said, reaching out to push her hair behind her ear.
