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I glance around my kitchen and, last minute, decide to trash the wildflowers I placed on the counter. This isn’t a date. We need to keep our intentions clear and avoid all future seven-year misunderstandings.
Flowers trashed, I shake out my arms and stretch my neck. Last time I saw Naomi, she was flirty and all in for whatever tonight brings. She could have changed her mind since yesterday. Decided it’s not worth getting involved, even casually.
Once again distraught over this woman, I find myself hesitating at the front door, unsure which Naomi will be on the other side. Friend Naomi. Antagonizing Naomi. We Shouldn’t Get Involved Naomi. Or, my personal favorite,I’ve Always Thought You’d be a Good FuckNaomi.
Tired of my stalling, I open the door and let out an animal grunt.
Whoever this Naomi is, she’sgorgeous.
Her mass of wavy hair cascades around her shoulders, and she’s wearing a tight yellow knit dress I’ve never seen. It dips dangerously low in the front, the sash around her waist accentuating the flare of her hips. Yeah, her body is perfection, but it’s her face that slays me. Seductively arched brows, blushed cheeks, sex-red lips begging to be devoured.
I’m pretty sure this isI’ve Always Thought You’d be a Good FuckNaomi, and I’m suddenly nervous.
“You look sensational,” I say on an exhale.
Her eyes do a sweep of my jeans and old-fashioned bowling shirt. “That is a good look on you.”
She saunters into my house, drops her purse on the entry table, likeshe’s at ease and comfortable in my space, not second-guessing tonight’s intentions. Her confidence obliterates my nerves. If she’s all in, wasting a second of this night would be criminal. I’mthe one who suggested we hook up. I don’t want to live with piles of regrets and what-ifs.
She tries to walk past me, but I clasp her waist and pull her close. Her gasp is all the encouragement I need.
I crowd her against the wall, get up in her space. “How do you always smell so fantastic?” Like I’ve been swept away to a tropical paradise.
She slides her hands over my shoulders. “How do you always look so fuckable?”
God, I love her filthy mouth.
I nose her neck and nip at her skin. “When you wear your hair in a bun, I lose my mind. Your neck does things to me.” As do her delicate collarbones, the tender spot by her ear. I keep exploring her glorious skin, whispering as I go. “Tell me to stop, Naomi. Tell me to take this slower. We can go into my kitchen, where I’ll remove those stitches and feed you a home-cooked meal.” But I trail my tongue along her ear.
She inhales sharply and palms my ass. “The only thing I want in my mouth is your cock.”
Jesus.
Heat rushes straight to my dick, a hot pulse that has me crushing my mouth to hers. She opens up with ease, letting me in, giving back as hard as I’m taking.
Abruptly, she pulls away and drops to her knees. Her hands are on my fly before my brain catches up with what’s happening. Naomi. Mouth.My dick.
My villainous vixen is seducingme.
Her hands don’t hesitate, pulling my cock free, her lips and tongue tracing the head.
I buck. See stars.
Those sex-red lips stretch wide and take me in, inch by body-buzzing inch, sucking me so deep a ragged groan rips from my chest. It’s not just the feel of her or how she teases me by pulling away then swallowing me to the root, playing with my balls in between. It’s the sounds she’s making, like she’slovingthis. Like she can’t take me deep enough, work me over hard enough.
I’m utterly enthralled, watching my rigid flesh sinking into her luscious mouth, but I weave my fingers into her thick hair and press my hands to her head. “If you think I’m coming now without being inside you, you don’t know me very well.”
She licks her glistening lips. “Idon’t know you well at all, do I?”
Her words have me hitting pause. I’m insanely turned on and desperate to get my mouth on her, but her question reignites my confusing nerves. “Do you want to know me?”
It’s a non-casual question. The absolute worst thing to ask. Clearly, my brain is malfunctioning. I mean, my thighs are on fire, my jeans are bunched at my knees. I’m aching to dive so deep into Naomi we shake the house, but my tenacious mind catches on my bad-idea question, spinning it in reverse, thinking about all the ways I want to knowher.
I want to watch Naomi eat my food and enjoy my culinary efforts. I want to pull those flowers out of the trash and put them on the counter. I want to find out why she’s going traveling and if she doesn’t love teaching like I thought and if her fight with her mother over her choices is still lingering.
The awareness of all I want overwhelms me, but Naomi wraps her hand around me again, giving my aching cock a solid pump. “I want to know what you want.”
Heat catches fire at the base of my spine, hot enough to burn away the periphery of my spinning thoughts. I force my focus on the moment.Naomi. Us—her hands rubbing all over my throbbing shaft while she waits for me to tell her what I want.
