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I’m teasing. “Maybe you should check again.”
He grins.
So do I.
Right before he reaches for me, making me shriek, and I press my face into the pillow as he tickles my waist. My stomach. His touch gentles, his fingers drifting over my hip bone. My butt. Slowly flipping me over so I’m lying on my back, Cam hovering above me, shoving at the hem of the jersey and pushing it upward until my breasts are exposed.
“Should we take this off?” His gaze lifts to mine, his fingers clutched around the hem of the shirt.
“I thought maybe you’d fuck me while I’m wearing your number.”
“Oh, Bumblebee.” He shakes his head. “Just when I think I’ve got you figured out, you go and say something like that.”
“I thought you might like it,” I whisper as he lets go of my shirt, shifting so he can kiss me.
“I love it.” He kisses me deep, his tongue doing a thorough sweep. “I love you.”
We kiss and touch each other, my hands eager this time around because it’s been far too long and his body has turned into an even more beautiful work of art. I put my hands on him everywhere I can reach, purposely ignoring his erection, which is currently threatening to pop out of the front of his boxer briefs. He groans when I trace the waistband of his boxers, trying to grab my hand, but I pull away every time, always just out of reach.
Always driving him wild.
It’s nothing but kissing and thrusting and rubbing and grinding and finally, he’s whispering in my ear, “I want to fuck you from behind.”
“Okay,” I readily agree, breathless with anticipation.
“So I can see my number on you,” he continues.
“Sounds hot.”
“It will be.” He reaches around me, palming one ass cheek, his fingers close to my pussy. When he brushes against it, I moan and he snatches his hand away from me, filling me with disappointment.
Looks like we’re both playing that game.
More kissing and stroking and teasing, and it’s only when we’re panting against each other’s mouths he finally says, “Get on your hands and knees for me, B.”
I press my hand against his chest, his eyes opening to study me. “No condom?”
His brows draw together. “That’s some risky shit, baby.”
“I’m on birth control.” I swallow hard. “It won’t be as risky.”
“I’m clean,” he says, his voice low. “They just ran a bunch of tests on me.”
“I want to feel you,” I whisper. “Please?”
His kiss is fierce, his tongue doing a sweep of my mouth before he murmurs against my lips, “I want to feel you, too.”
I get into position, on my hands and knees in the center of the mattress, still wearing the jersey. I’m hot, the back of my neck sticky with sweat, and when the mattress dips, I can feel him behind me just before he rests his hand on my hip.
And slaps my ass with the other hand.
“Oh!” I jolt against his palm, shocked and aroused. “Pull my hair.”
He starts to laugh. “You’re fucking wild, B.”
“I swear only you bring it out of me,” I confess, leaning into his soothing palm as he rubs it all over my ass.
“Keep it that way, okay?”
