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I wanted him.
Inside me.
Fucking me.
“Five minutes,” I cooed. “Just a quickie.”
“I don’t really ‘do’ quickies.”
“So I’ve noticed. But you could try.”
“I… have to get… to the hospital… unhhhh…” he groaned as he stared deep into my imploring eyes.
I bit my lip as coquettishly as I could. “I’ll let you come inside me.”
“Oh God,” he grunted. He closed his eyes, tipped his head back – and then, through some superhuman feat of willpower, he put his hands on my arms and forced both of us to our feet.
“Later,” he said good-naturedly. He turned me in the direction of the bathroom. “Now go get dressed.”
“Hmph,” I pouted playfully, then looked over my shoulder into his eyes. “You don’t get to come inside me, then.”
“We’ll see,” he grinned, and slapped my ass.
Again.
I was a little pissed – it was kind of demeaning, how casually he did it –
But I liked it, too.
I couldn’t deny that completely.
We might have to do more of that during sex.
I sashayed towards the bathroom, still looking over my shoulder. I switched my gaze pointedly between his eyes and that beautiful cock – now at full attention and deliciously hard – and back again. I lifted one eyebrow, like, You sure? Last chance.
“Go on,” he said. “Before I change my mind.”
I smiled as I walked into the bathroom to dress.
27
Twenty minutes later, we roared up in front of my motel room on his Harley. It was still dark, shortly after 4AM. The world was quiet except for the throb of his engine.
I got off the bike and stowed the spare helmet while he tapped out a text on his phone.
“What are you doing?” I asked.
“Getting Lou to meet.”
My heart constricted with fear. “Be careful, okay?”
“I will.” He leaned over, gave me a long, slow kiss. Then he pulled away.
“Can’t you just… I don’t know… stay here with me?” I asked mournfully.
He shook his head and brushed his fingers across my cheek. “Don’t worry so much. Shoot me a text when you wake up, okay?”
“Okay.”
