I walk to the door to face him. “So you added them to your hamper with all your…your funk?”
“I know, right? Kinda gross but also makes you wonder what your panties are getting up to in there.”
This is not something that should make me laugh, or feel a twinge of heat between my folds. And yet his arrogance keeps doing this to me.
I press a finger to Crosby’s chest, and then I realize that broad span of skin is bare. I snap backward and look him up and down as my eyes adjust further.
“Why are you naked?!”
“Because I wanted you to see what you’re missing.”
“What is wrong with you?”
“For starters, a hard-on like the Empire State Building.”
I can see that. I can see all of that. So much cock staring straight up at me. I thought that outline in his jeans was a sock or something. But how in the Kentucky fried hell can one man carry that around and not throw out a disc in his back?
All my suspicions were correct. This is a man who gets so much pussy, and I’m not touching that thing with a ten-foot pole without seeing his test results.
“Cat got your tongue, Kitten?”
Holy hell, why does that voice make me so insane? Using the word “tongue” and the pet name he’s given me in one sentence. He knows what he’s doing.
“No. I’m just debating whether to fish my clothes out of your disgusting hamper or wear your bathrobe home.”
He shrugs innocently and sucks his teeth. “I’m sorry, you’ll have to leave the robe. That’s property of Chez Crosby once you decide to leave. It would be a shame to see you put on your funkified clothes, especially since you just had a bath. But leave you must. Would you like me to call you a cab while you change?”
If there’s one thing I cannot stand, it is people fucking with me. And yet I have no snarky response left. I don’t want to put on my dirty clothes and leave. Most importantly, I do not want to disappoint the Humane Society. And my slutty vagina is having a tantrum.
“I know this all comes as a shock to you, but it’s your choice. I’m not a monster. Go ahead and get changed. I’ll make sure you get home safe.”
“Stop telling me what to do,” I seethe. “Those aren’t my only choices.”
Crosby is silent. Waiting.
Me? My head is exploding. My heart is racing. And my pussy is out-and-out screaming.
SEVEN
Crosby
I gotta say,I never expected a woman to grab me by the dick to drag me back to bed, but then again, I never expected Leela.
Fire erupts in my gut at the grasp of her hand around my length. “D-damn, girl, slow down,” I stutter, gasping for breath and shuffling behind her, lest she cause me actual pain.
I’m half laughing, half groaning in torment by the time Leela pushes me down on the bed and climbs on top of me.
“Don’t. Fuck. With me.” Her sweet breath wafts over my face, her lips so close to mine I could kiss her with no effort.
“Please let go,” I ask.
The second that she does let go of my shaft, I pounce. She’s under me, and I’m shoving the bathrobe away and cupping both her breasts in my hands.
She squeaks. Just like my Kitten.
Chill, Crosby. Chill. I take a breath. Gently, I squeeze one of her nipples between my thumb and forefinger, and revel in the sound of her stifled moan. I knock her thighs apart and nestle my pelvis right in that sweet, warm, damp spot. Each of us gives in to the almost-involuntary grind. “Bastard,” she whispers.
“I’ll make it so worth your while, Kitten.”