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“Yeah?”
“That feels great.”
I lean forward even more, stretching my neck to one side, and she slithers down behind me.God help me.I can feel the heat of her core pressed against my lower back, warm and sweet when her legs spread a little wider to accommodate my size.
Her knees are pressed against my sides and I have to fight with everything I have inside me not to run my hands up and down her thighs.
“Is this too hard?” she asks. Her hands move a little lower, the heels of her palms stretching the tight muscle, loosening the tension, drawing out of me a moan that would be completely embarrassing if she didn’t just make some kind of sexy little sound herself.
“It’s perfect,” I whisper. And it is. Brinley’s hands massaging me feel so damn good. I really hope she doesn’t hear the sudden throatiness in my voice, but I can’t disguise it as anything other than a craving I don’t yet have a name for. “Just keep doing it exactly like that.”
“I have some hand lotion right there near the lamp. It will help me massage the muscle better. Want me to try?”
“Sure.”
She reaches across behind me to grab the lotion off the side table, and I feel her soft breasts and hard nipples scrape against my bare skin through the thin material of her T-shirt.
The apartment isn’t cold anymore. I made sure of that. So her pebbled nipples scraping across my back can only mean one thing.
“Which one of these was your first tattoo?” she asks softly, rubbing some lotion on her hands, getting it warm before she puts her hands back on me.
Leaning my head to one side, I let her get back to work, rubbing my shoulder with the perfect amount of pressure. “The treble cleft behind my left ear. I was sixteen when I got it because I knew music was all I wanted to do with my life.”
I can feel her warm breath on my skin as she leans in closer to examine it. “That’s cool,” she says, and her voice wavers slightly with what sounds like nervousness, or maybe it’s something else. She runs her fingers slowly down my back, tracing the outlines of my tattoos along the length of my spine. “And what about the last one you got? Which one is that?”
“The crucifix, right here.” I glance down at my stomach. “I got it done a couple of years ago, and haven’t had anything else done since. It hurt like a bitch. I’d wanted to get one for a while though, and you know what they say about going big or going home.”
Brinley leans around me to get a better look, so I take her hands in mine and pull her arms around my waist, gently leaning back against her so that she can see my stomach. The black crucifix starts at my sternum and disappears down the front of my jeans.
“It’s gorgeous,” she says, swallowing hard.
Her hands are still in mine, so I rub my thumb gently back and forth over her fingers, drawing her in closer.
Neither of us makes an effort to move.
“Reed –” she exhales slowly.
I turn my head toward her, snaking my hand around the back of her neck, my thumb caressing her cheek.
She rubs her tiny cheek against my big hand, practically mewling like a kitten, and the tender movement sends me tumbling clean over the edge. I shut my eyes, and bring her mouth down over mine. My tongue slips into her mouth, seeking her out and my first taste of her is salt and sweet and rich and perfectlyher.
Brinley returns the favor by opening up just a little more for me, gently biting my bottom lip between her teeth, and I swear I see stars. No. Not stars. I see fireworks exploding across the night sky, like it’s the fucking Fourth of July.
We’re twisted around each other in an uncomfortable way that doesn’t allow me to do all the things to her that I really want to be doing right now, the angle limiting my access to her body. So I release her hands, reach behind me and grab her hips, sliding her around me so that now she’s sitting on my lap, straddling me and it feels so much better this way.
One hand moves into her hair, while the other hand toys with the bottom of her t-shirt, desperate to slide it up over her head, but not wanting to rush things. I really want her tits in my mouth again. I’ve been thinking about nothing else since I got my first taste of paradise.
Brinley licks her lips, and I swear every time I get a glimpse of her tongue, my cock twitches. She brings her hand up and touches my hair, running it through her fingers.
“It’s so soft,” she says. “I thought it would be.”
“You’ve been thinking about my hair?”
She nods with a shy smile. “And other stuff too.”
“Oh yeah? Like what?”
“Been thinking about running my hands all over your hard body. And I’ve been thinking about licking your neck. You have beautiful skin.”
