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Vaughn
“I can’t believe I let you talk me into this.”
Kendall’s breathless words are barely louder than the patter of water against tile. “Showering?” I ask innocently as I skim my soapy hands up her shoulders. “Don’t you do it every day?” My fingers find and massage tight muscles at the base of her neck.
Her eyelids droop and the back of her head hits the tile with a muted thump. “Not with a guy.”
After a farewell knead to her now loose neck I slide my hands down the slopes of her breasts and give her nipples a playful pinch. “Hey, I’m not just aguy.”
“Okay, a neighbor…”
“Neighbor? That’s how I rate?” Determined to make her pay for the deliberate slight, I run my fingers along her sides.
She jerks and shrieks. She’s ticklish. Holy crap is she ticklish. Knee raised, body curled, eyes tightly closed ticklish. Charmed and, well, victorious, I go to town, prepared to fully exploit this situation. “Say ‘You’re the best neighbor ever, Vaughn.’”
“Can’t…growing up there was Suzie Gilmore, and she had…in-ground trampoline. Vauuuuuuughn!”
“Say it.” I dig in at her sides, between her ribs. Her attempt at self-defense bounces harmlessly off my shoulder. “Say it or I show no mercy.”
“Ahhh! Vaughn, I swear to God—”
“Try again,” I encourage, and walk my fingers down to her waist.
That’s when a palm cracks across my ass. Desperate. Unchecked. Loud.
It doesn’t hurt, but the impact of wet skin on wet skin reverberates in the small space.
Her eyes pop open. “Oh. My. God. I’m so sorry.”
I lean in and nuzzle her neck. “Not me. C’mon baby. Do it again.”
She pushes me away with an exasperated laugh. “Get off of me and let me see the damage.” Laugh or no, I can tell by the way she bites her lip that she’s more concerned than she needs to be. I turn and look over my shoulder as we both watch a red palm print appear on the comparatively pale skin of my ass cheek. At the sight of the mark, the very pleasant semi I’ve sported since I snuck into the shower turns heavy.
“Does it hurt?” She dances fingers over the zone of impact and my erection surges to full, painful attention.
“No,” I say quickly. “And yes, just not how you mean.” But I don’t move. I keep letting her caress the tender spot because I like the hot stain of her hand on my skin. I like the concern in her eyes, as well as the hint of I-can’t-believe-I-did-that. Every soothing sweep of her fingertips across my ass has a direct and inversely proportional effect on my cock. It’s throbbing for equal attention. Each finely diffused droplet of water that rains down on it becomes a separate punishment.
Kendall’s lips brush my earlobe. “Would you like me to…?”
“What?” Did that thick, inarticulate noise come from me?
“…kiss it better?”
Before I can fully process the question, much less respond, she’s on her knees behind me, and…“Jeeesuuuuus.” I grip my aching cock in a rough, but incredibly necessary hold while Kendall’s soft lips meander over my ass. They trail, gentle as a feather, stopping occasionally to press firm little kisses against my heated skin. Every nerve ending she touches seems to have multiple direct counterparts all along my shaft. I run my hand over it, tugging at those phantom sensations.
Her mouth moves again. She kisses lower.
I feel the tingle of it all the way to my balls. My tugs grow harder. Hard enough to lift the boys.
The next kiss involves a quick, spearing dart of her tongue, and my harsh curse bounces off glass and tile.
“Uh-oh,” she says from behind me. “Does something else hurt now?”
I’ve created a monster. Despite my agony, I feel a smile stretching my lips. “God, yes. You don’t know the half of it.”
With hands on my hips she urges me around and then takes in my predicament with wide, serious eyes. “I can see there’s quite a bit of swelling. Should I kiss this better, too?”
I get lightheaded at the thought. “Would you?”
