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What is it with this girl, and why can’t I get enough of her?
“You’re staring,” she points out, resting back on one palm without a care in the world.
Her confidence is so fucking sexy.
My cock jerks, trying to convince me to just take her here on the kitchen counter, but then there’s this other part of me, a part I don’t think I’ve ever heard before telling me to treat her properly. Show her that I’m not exactly what she thinks I am. A sex-obsessed, elitist knobhead.
“Yeah, well. That’s how good they are. Thank fuck I’ve got a couple of videos so I can watch them whenever I want. They’re especially good when they’re bouncing.”
Her eyes darken, letting me know that if I were to try something right now then she’d be on board.
The memory of ripping her knickers off earlier slams into me.
If I were to lift her skirt…
Lock it down, Theo. Show her you’re more.
Rearranging the shirt in my hand, I finally drag it over her head, for all the good it does. The top few buttons are undone showing me the valley between her tits and teasing me with the fullness of them, and her nipples press against the fabric.
“That looks a hell of a lot better on you than it does me, sunshine,” I admit, finally stepping back, wrapping my hands around her waist and lifting her from the counter.
Her body slides down mine making my teeth grind.
If she wasn’t aware of what her presence—her tits—were doing to me then there’s no doubt she does now.
“So,” I start, forcing myself to take a step back from her and wave my arm around the room. “Kitchen.”
Her brows lift. “Yeah, I was wondering,” she deadpans.
“Are you always this much of a smart-arse?”
“No,” she states flatly. “Sometimes I’m worse.”
Shaking my head, I reach for her hand and tug her into the living area, which admittedly she could see from the kitchen, but this is a tour after all.
“And you didn’t want a bigger TV?” she asks, gazing at the massive screen on the wall.
“Yeah, we did but apparently it was too big and didn’t align with something and it triggered Elliot’s OCD so we had to downgrade a little.
“Elliot has OCD?”
“Nah, not diagnosed. He’s just a fucking control freak in every sense of the word. Probably best not to tell him that you were just sitting on the kitchen counter without any knickers on while getting wet with the sight of my body.”
She pauses and laughs. “Wait? You think that—” She points at my chest and makes a sweeping motion around my body. “Makes me wet. The girls around here really are desperate, huh?”
“You do know it would only take me a second to prove your bullshit.” I turn into her body and stalk forward, giving her little choice but to reverse into the back of the sofa, pinning her against it with my hips.
“Even if you’re not wet for me, which we both know you are. I fucked you bare an hour ago, I’ve no doubt that my cum is still running down your thighs.”
Her breath catches at the truth in my words.
“How easy would it be to take you right here?” I ask before ripping my eyes from hers and jerking my chin in the direction of the sideboard. “Or there? Or back in the kitchen. Or on the dining room table?”
“Okay, you’ve made your point,” she says, pressing against my chest to make me back up.
She doesn’t mean it, not really. Her eyes tell me exactly what she wants, and it’s not me farther away.
“Shall we continue?” she asks.
