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The question burst out of his closed throat anyway. “So did you?”
Her hands tightened, her nails digging through his T-shirt. “No, Miles. I flunked that midterm,” she said. “Egregiously, I’m proud to say. I may be a dog when it comes to chemistry, but I’m not a whore.”
She spun his chair around, and before he could stop her, she’d swung that perfect thigh over his lap and sat down, straddling him.
He froze. He didn’t know what to do with his hands. He was scared to death. And so aroused he was in danger of passing out.
Cindy wiggled her tight, perfect ass right against his hard-on. He shrank away from her, but she leaned closer. No escaping her seductive honey-and-vanilla scent. “Don’t be scared,” she said. “I won’t bite.”
Yeah, like hell. “Jesus, Cin. Are you on drugs?” he demanded.
She laughed. “I drank a bunch of killer java this morning down at the Coffee Shack. I’m feeling really strange, actually. Wired. Like, I don’t give a shit. I’ll say what I think. I’ll do what I feel. Why shouldn’t I?”
“Oh, God.” His terror was heartfelt. Cindy in a manic mood was dangerous. He grabbed her waist, and his hands skittered off her like he’d grabbed a red-hot coal when they encountered hot, velvety bare skin. “Cin—”
“Shhh.” She put her finger over his mouth, then grabbed one of his flapping, useless hands and pulled it up to her neck. She wrapped his fingers around one of the ties of her halter top, smiling that secret, dangerous, sexy-wild smile that he saw in his hottest fever dreams.
Then she tightened her own fingers around his, and pulled, until the knot slipped and gave. The halter fell down, the material snagging on her nipples. She shrugged, a graceful ripple of her slender body, and the top flopped all the way down over her belly, baring her breasts.
They were just like he’d imagined. No, better. Creamy triangles of soft, untanned skin against the darker freckles of her throat, her shoulders. He was transfixed. Gaping. She was so fucking beautiful.
“Touch them,” she invited him.
He shook his head, every system on red alert, throat shaking, eyes stinging. On the verge of shooting his wad in his pants, right underneath the weight of her squirming ass. But Cindy was not to be denied. She grabbed his hand, and pressed his palm against her breast.
He gasped. So soft. Dewy skinned. So pale. The tight bud of her nipple tickled his palm. Her scent was making him dizzy.
She wrapped her arms around his neck, tugged his head towards hers. He yanked her close, and buried his face in her tits, rubbing his cheek against her. Kissing, licking. He’d wanted this for so long, even though his chest felt like a hot blade was turning inside him.
This would blow up in his face sooner or later. Probably sooner. More like, instantly. He had zero experience, zero technique, but Cindy seemed to like it anyhow. Her face was pink, and she was pressing her crotch against his erection with an insistent, grinding rhythm. She went motionless, and made a sobbing sound as a ripple shuddered through her body. Then she sagged over his shoulder. He nuzzled, memorizing the taste of her sweat, for later. When she’d blow him off again.
The question rose out of the depths of his anger and sadness. “Why are you doing this?” He couldn’t stop his voice from shaking.
She lifted her head. Her eyes were glowing with arousal. “Why not? I’ve got nothing to lose. It’s not like I have to worry about ruining our friendship, right? It’s already ruined. So why not cop a feel?”
He pushed her off his lap. She stood there, flaunting her body. “So, Miles?” she taunted. “Are you going to do the nasty with me? You got me all hot. It would be mean to send me off without nailing me.”
“Get out, Cin.” The wobble in his voice was getting bad.
“I could sit right here.” She perched on the table, parting her thighs so he could see a flash of lace. “The table’s the right height. Or we could do it on the chair. I love playing horsie. Or I could lean against the wall, and stick my ass out, like this.” She turned, demonstrated.
He shook his head. She laughed at him. “Liar. Don’t you want to see my Brazilian wax job? I had the girl trim my pussy hair into a heart shape. Want to see?” She put her hands on her waistband.
“Out!” he bellowed, surging to his feet.
“Not without checking you out.” She grabbed the waistband of his sweatpants, yanked. His dick sprang up, bobbing and waving.
Cindy pursed her lips in a silent whistle. “Whoa. You’ve been keeping this big, bad thing hidden in your jeans for all these years?”
She gripped his cock, stroked him. He tried to suck air into his shuddering lungs. “I told you not to joke with me about this—”
“Who’s joking?” She sank to her knees and took him in her mouth. He sucked in a shallow gasp, and stopped breathing altogether.
He didn’t last long. A few excruciating strokes, a few teasing swirls, and it was a landslide, an earthquake, a catastrophic explosion, molten lava spurting. He was startled to find himself still on his feet.
Cindy was wiping her mouth, gazing up. She looked startled.
“Uh, wow,” she whispered. “That was explosive.”
