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Leaning across the center console, I tug at the hem of my t-shirt on her, lifting it enough to see the evidence of our fucking dried on her skin. “Speaking of…how’s your pussy?”
“Holy Christ!” It’s dark, but her fair skin tinges with a deep flush when I cup her pussy. It’s still hot and wet, and the thought of my cum still inside her is far more pleasing than it should be.
“How’s this sweet cunt?” I repeat, enunciating every word as I hold her bashful stare.
I love her bashfulness. It makes me want to ruin all her small-town modesty in every filthy way.
“I hate that word,” she finally breathes when I take my hand from her pussy and round the top of her thigh.
“No, you don’t. Nobody actually hates the word cunt. They’re just too damn scared that it makes them sound like a depraved nymphomaniac.” When she narrows her eyes at me, I add, “But in your case it doesn’t matter because I already know all about your insatiable lust. No need to be shy about it…you like my cock, sweetheart.”
“I do?” she scoffs, her hand resting on top of mine as I knead the supple flesh of her thigh.
“You love my cock and I love your cunt.”
The hitch of her breath is chased by an audible gulp. It’s adorable, and before she can get all coy about it, I get out of the Jeep. I round the front of it in the sheeting rain to open her door and help her down. Of course, she’s defiant, and I can’t get enough of it while I follow her to her front door.
“You’re an asshole,” she groans when I press her into the glass-paned wood with my body while she tries to get the key into the lock.
“I don’t deny that,” I whisper into her ear, taking the key from her and opening the door. “But you like the word.”
“I do not!”
“Your cunt says otherwise when I whisper it into your ear and it squeezes my cock. You love it when my fingers are knuckle deep inside you and I tell you to come for me.”
“Fuck,” she growls, turning to slap my chest. “You’re incorrigible.”
I grin in response because the lip-biting smile on her face makes it evident that she’s enjoying our to and fro more than she wants to.
“Are you coming up or going home?” Rosie asks with an exaggerated roll of her eyes.
“You tell me.”
“You’re a mess.” Gripping the top of my shorts she pulls me inside with her. “Maggie would probably kill you for walking into her wholesome family home soaking wet with nothing but your shorts preserving what little is left of your modesty and dirty feet too.”
“Is that so?”
“I’m basically saving your life right now, Hotshot.”
“You are?”
“I am.” A giggle bursts from her as she spins to take the stairs with a flick of her long hair over her shoulder.
When we reach the top, she tugs my t-shirt off of her, heading through the open-plan living area to the kitchen on the other side.
“Becca’s got a double shift, so she won’t be back until tomorrow afternoon. You can strut your bare ass with no worry.” After throwing the top into the washing machine, she waits for me to strip off my shorts too.
When the cycle is running, I follow her through to her tiny en suite. The shower barely has space for the two of us, but we squeeze under the hot spray for a while, warming ourselves through. Our bodies are pressed together and there’s no room to keep our hands to ourselves either. It’s the best fucking shower I’ve ever had as I work the suds of her shampoo through her fiery strands.
“You’re beautiful.”
Wide eyes blink up at my sudden remark. It’s nothing but the truth. Nothing less than she needs to know.
“Brody…” Rosie lets out a long breath with a shake of her head.
“What?”
“We’re cramped in my shower and not even an hour ago you,” she pauses, her eyes flickering down to my chest as she drags in a deep breath and peers up at me with a weak smile. “Not even an hour ago you were inside me.”
