Not even a bit.
“Quit screwing around. They’re going to be here soon.”
“The food’s not even here yet,” he reminds me. “We have time.”
“Time for what?”
His hands go around my waist as he walks me backward toward the counter until my butt hits the cabinet. Duke’s large palm skims up my stomach under my shirt, causing me to shiver.
“Time for something sweet.”
I bite down on my bottom lip. “That sounds ridiculous coming out of your mouth.”
I think about other things that could be inside his mouth, namely me. Or me inside his mouth that could work, too. My pussy begins to get wet even from the short amount of time his hand has been under my shirt and his dick has been pressed against my stomach.
He's so hard. If I were wearing jeans—which I’m not—I’d be able to feel his hard-on.
Within seconds, he’s lifting me and setting me on the kitchen counter as if I weighed nothing at all. I spread my legs to accommodate him, wrapping my arms around his neck so he can kiss me full on the mouth. His lips are warm and soft even though he has stubble on his face that’s scratching my chin. I love the scruff on his chin. I love it when he doesn’t shave. It makes him look like a mountain man.
Or a rancher out west.
That’s basically what he is, wrapped in a football jersey.
“I’m glad you didn’t wear a bra.” He’s nuzzling my neck, working the hem of my shirt up so he can lift it over my head.
I raise my arms to make it easier.
“Fuck, your titties are perfect.”
The blush sweeps me from head to toe; it’s a dirty compliment and I’m here for it. Makes me feel a bit naughty. Less prim and proper and all woman.
They fit in his hands as if they were made for them.
“I’m not going to be the only one sitting here with no shirt on,” I say. “Take yours off, too. Please.”
“Since you said please…”
His shirt is off in an instant, and the eager look in his eyes gets me excited. Hot.
Duke reaches over and dips his finger back into the pie, sweeping off a bit of whipped cream.
“Stop doing that!”
He dabs whipped cream on each of my nipples. “I’m gonna have dessert before dinner.”
Duke squats, eyes level with my boobs.
Licks the white whip off one nipple. Sucks until my head tips back and my fingers plow through his hair.
Licks and sucks the other one clean.
Stands again so I can kiss the sweet topping off his lips, our tongues sugary sweet.
My hands work the fly of his pants, unbuttoning and unzipping, the fulfilling zip mingling with the sound of our excited breathing.
“Mmm, give me that dick.” I laugh when his pants are off, down around his ankles—exactly where I want them.
His eyes go wide. “Josephine, I cannot believe you just said that.”