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And as luck would have it, she seemed to feel the same way about me.
As we lay in bed after, legs and sheets tangled together, Taylor said, “It’s really not fair, you know.”
I frowned down at her. “What’s not fair?”
Her palm patted the part of the sheet covering my cock. “You’re funny, charming, absolutely sexy—and you have a great dick?”
“Don’t forget rich,” I said. “I’m rich, too.”
She giggled, which sent vibrations into my chest. “Yeah, that too. It’s not fair. Guys are only supposed to have one, maybe two, of those qualities. But for you to have all of that… no man should wield so much power.”
“You’re one to talk,” I replied, sliding my hand down to grab a handful of her ass. “A college professor who is also a cheerleader? Stunningly beautiful and smart as a whip? I’m pretty sure you’re a figment of my imagination, Foxy, because girls like you just don’t exist.”
“Foxy?” she asked. “Not T-Foxy anymore?”
“I’ve always thought of you as Foxy,” I said, tightening my grip on her ass. “Now that I know for sure, we can drop the T.”
“Speaking of tea,” she said, “I need to put some liquids in my body.”
“Already took care of that for you,” I said with a wink.
She sat up and gave me the cutest little glare. “More liquids. In my mouth this time—” She cut off. “Nope. I’m not going to give you the opportunity to make a joke.”
I grinned at her. “You’re no fun. I was this close to saying something.”
She patted my chest. “What do you want? It’s early, and I need you hydrated for later.”
“Later? Woman, you’re going to kill me.”
Taylor gave me a mischievous grin. “Hope not. You’re allowed to die after I’m done with you, but not a moment before.”
“There are worse ways to go! Yeah, I’ll take one of whatever you’re getting.”
Taylor slid out of bed, and then walked across the room naked. I savored the sight of her flawless ass, and her long, but strong, legs. I could already feel myself stirring again just at the sight of her.
As if she knew what I was thinking, she gave me a glance over her shoulder before exiting into the hallway.
If she sexes me to death, I’ll die happy, I thought.
Taylor returned with a bottle of white wine. “Screw-top!” she said happily.
“Corks are overrated. What, no glasses?”
She looked around, then snatched the commemorative pint glass off the wall. “This will do.”
“Drinking wine out of a pint glass? I thought you were classier than that, Foxy.”
She bounced on the bed and lay across my body. “Classy is overrated. I want to drink out of our glass.”
“Amen to that.”
Our. I liked the sound of that. A sign that there wasn’t just Taylor and Brody, separate. There was also the space where we overlapped, a space that would hopefully grow with time.
This isn’t just a hookup, I thought. I want so much more with this girl.
I heard Luna’s nails clicking on the floor as she came down the hallway and into the bedroom. She paused, saw us on the bed, and then came running forward to leap on us. Taylor squealed and shielded the wine as the dog licked and rubbed and rolled all over us.
“Get down, girl,” I said.
