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Looking up at her, as loose and limp as she could be still cuffed to his closet door, his brain and his body went to war. Smart thing was to walk away while he still could. Too fucking bad he never could do the smart thing around Leah.

He uncuffed her and carried her into his bedroom, lying her down on his bed. Her dark hair flowed across the pillows, her naked body open to his perusal. Her full pouty lips were curled just enough to let him know she was up for more—exactly like he'd imagined her in a million jerk-off fantasies. Staying three steps back from the bed, he started to undress.

She sat up, watching him as he stripped off his shirt and kicked off his shoes. "Why do you always want to tie me up?"

"Because nobody runs like you do." It was true. For as much as he always seemed to be standing still and doing the expected, Leah was constantly moving and surprising everyone in Catfish Creek. "You run even when you're standing still. Always on guard. Always primed for a getaway. You've been like that since you were six and spent almost every afternoon at my house playing with Jessica."

Something bittersweet flashed across her face at the mention of his sister's name. "Those days are long gone."

"And thank God for it, because you were an even more stubborn brat then."

She grinned up at him, all sass and sexiness. "Spoken like a man who's not getting laid tonight."

"Sweets." He popped open the button of his jeans and kept his gaze on her hungry face as he slowly lowered the zipper. "We both know that's a lie."

He wouldn't say his ego was small to begin with, but it definitely got a might bigger as she watched him strip. Of course, he played it up a bit, taking his time getting his jeans off and then toying with his boxer briefs before dropping them. She was sitting on her heels at the edge of the bed by the end, sucking that full bottom lip of hers into her mouth, her eyes dark with lust.

"No more cuffs unless I'm locking you up," she said.

He barked out a laugh at that idea. "That's not gonna happen."

One side of her mouth went up, mocking him. "Chicken?"

No. Worse. "I've jerked off too many times remembering the feel of your skin and knowing I'd never get the chance to touch you again to ever give up the opportunity to have my hands on you."

"Show me."

Oh, hell yes, he was going to show her exactly all the ways he wanted to touch her. He took a step toward the bed.

She held up a hand, stopping him. "No. Show me how you jerked off to me. I want to watch."

"Does that get you hot, the idea of watching me stroke this big cock?" he asked, wrapping his fingers around himself and bringing them up and down slowly.

She bit her bottom lip and nodded, her gaze locked on his hand around his dick. Fucking A. There was no way he could say no to her when she looked at him like that.

Leah

She was going to come again just from watching Drew touch himself. Hot didn't begin to cover it. Molten. Face of the sun. Texas in August record-setting heat wave. It was that fucking hot. She was tempted to get down on her knees in front of him, but there was no way she'd be able to stop herself from joining in on the fun and she wanted to torture him a little like he'd done to her in the hall.

"Where are you when you stroke your cock thinking about me?" she asked.

"Bed. Shower. Kitchen." Slow and steady his hand stroked up and down his shaft. "On my fucking couch when some actress on TV reminds me of you. Once at work."

Her core clenched at the idea, the taboo of it making her wet enough that she could feel it on her thighs. "What got you that time?"

"It was right after Karly started organizing the reunion. Everyone was talking about it. I couldn't get you out of my head. I kept thinking about that night we fucked behind the stadium. It was so hot that no one was out but us. You were naked and on your knees in front of me, my cock filling up your mouth." He stroked his cock hard right up to the head, milking out some pre-come and scooping it up on one finger, holding it out for her.

She didn't hesitate, she opened her mouth and licked the salty liquid off, managing somehow not to jump him right then and there. "I remember that. I won that bet."

"Nah." He went back to rubbing his dick. "You lost, that's why you were naked and on your knees."

Men were so slow sometimes. "That's what you think."

"Fuck," he groaned and cupped his balls with his free hand. "That makes it even hotter. Just that image of you looking up at me, your lips were bright red and that sound you made every time my dick hit the back of your throat. Damn. It had me so hard I could barely fucking walk to the officer's locker room to take care of things."

Dying to touch him, but refusing to let herself, she fisted the sheets in her hands. "And you did?"

"Fuck yes. I was so close that I stood up in one of the changing stalls with one hand pressed against the cinderblock wall and the other wrapped around my prick." He threw back his head, tension cording his neck. "Three strokes and I was spraying that wall and swallowing every sound I wanted to make at that moment."

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