She draws back a little, breaking the kiss, her blue eyes wide, and I stifle a groan. “You said… You wanted me to blow you.”
The thought of her mouth on my dick sends a bolt of heat straight through me. It’d be so fucking hot, but I can’t stop kissing her right now. Not sure I can ever fucking stop. Her mouth’s addictive. Everything about her is addictive.
“Jarett,” she whispers against my lips, and her voice is a little hoarse, her breathing uneven. Her tits rise and fall, threatening to spill from her cleavage. She moans softly when I press my hard-on against her.
She’s turned on.
It makes me fucking burn.
“Touch me,” I whisper.
Her small hand slips under my sweater, under my T-shirt, warm against my skin, tracing my abs, stroking my pecs. Never cared much about having my chest stroked, but damn, every light touch of her fingers sends shivers through me, making me impossibly hard.
It hurts how much I want her.
I won’t ask for more, though, even if it’s killing me. I never thought I’d be kissing her, holding her against me like this.
Right now, the hits I took for her friend, the mess that is my life, it’s all worth it. And nothing matters at all.
“You’re ripped,” she whispers, then her eyes widen, as if she hadn’t meant to say that.
I grin down at her, more shaken than I’d like to admit. “You like it.”
That blush again.
She’s killing me.
She pushes my sweater up, brushing over my ink, over my burning skin, and then down my sides, over my ribs.
And then her hand trails back down to the open fly of my jeans, sliding inside.
“Gigi.” A shudder wracks me, and my self-control cracks straight through. “What are you doing?”
“Touching,” she says, and she’s a damn tease—only her face tells me different. She’s serious. “You want this?”
Is she really asking me? I want this and more, so much more.
“This.” I grab her hand and push it down my pants, watching her expression as I do it. “I want your hand on my dick.”
She swallows hard, and her eyes go heavy-lidded, her breathing faster. I relax my hold on her hand so she can pull away if she wants—but she doesn’t. Her slender fingers dip inside my briefs, find my hard dick and wrap around it.
Holy shit. My head thumps back against the wall, my brain short-circuiting the rest of the way. Just static. Can’t think. Everything is on hold, time, space, the whole damn universe.
Feels so good. The world has narrowed down to her light grip, the sound of her breathing, the taste of her lips on my tongue.
Kissing her once wasn’t enough. Although my mind’s in a haze, the feel of her hand on my hard-on consuming my focus, I cup her face in my hands and draw her in for another kiss.
Better than the first. Deeper, my tongue lashing hers until she moans, and her hand clenches convulsively around my dick.
My breath leaves my lungs. Shit, I’m so embarrassingly close to coming, it’s like I’m back in fucking middle school.
She moans in my mouth, rising on tiptoes, gripping my shoulder with one hand, kissing me back.
Tugging on my cock with the other, harder, faster.
It’s like a firework goes off inside me—a full body explosion, sharp pleasure making my hips snap and my body jerk beyond my control.
I come like a freight train off the rails, shooting my load all over her hand and my chest, groaning so loud I bet anyone passing outside this door can hear me.