Witt’s laughter rumbled against her back, vibrating straight through to her chest, then he climbed off the bed. Max shivered against the cold rush of night air. It felt like a warning. Or an omen. She wanted to tell him to hurry. Faster. Get back in and warm me up again.
“I thought you were mad at me,” she said as he nestled in behind her once more, all hot, hard flesh now.
“Way past anger. Now I’m into just plain crazy.” He pulled her leg up and insinuated his thigh between hers. “You’ve got me by the short hairs. I’m willing to beg since that’s what you seem to want.”
“Don’t beg.” She couldn’t make him do that. All right, she made him do it all the time, but she was starting to hate that she did so consistently. What could she give him without losing a part of herself in the process?
“Since you’re here,” she said, pressing back against him, “and you took off your clothes and everything, well, maybe you could, um, you know.” There, that was good. She invited him to do it. Sort of.
He laughed again and buried his face in the crook of her neck. “Do you want me to ... um-you-know?”
Darnn, he was pushing at her again, and not only in the physical sense. He wanted her to beg. She took his big hand and guided him down between her legs. “Just go for it, okay.”
“Just go for it? Like wham-bam-thank-you-ma’am?” He held her open with his leg and stroked her with one finger, a little teaser that ratcheted up her breathing to pant status.
This was way too much like Cameron’s lesson, identical position, similar act he played on her body. She scooched away and rolled to face Witt. His hand ended up cupping her hip, holding her close, though in the small bed, she couldn’t get far away, unless she fell out the window. “Lay back,” she said. “I’ll take care of it.”
“Sounds interesting.” He sidled down, pushing against her legs until she raised one and straddled him. “Very interesting.”
It wasn’t a power thing on her part. No, the move was about creating variety. Besides, Witt liked it. He thought it was interesting.
Cameron didn’t snort from the corner of the room. He’d really left this time, or he certainly wouldn’t have passed up the opportunity to jibe her about justification.
Moonlight trickled through the branches and leaves to sparkle in Witt’s eyes. Raising his hips, he found her center and rubbed her with the length of his cock. Her head fell back. She could come like that, with a snap of the fingers. Her body juiced up, coating him with her slick heat. Eyes closed, she felt him fumble for something on the bedside table.
“What’s this?” He held the toy truck in his hand.
Her face flamed and it had nothing to do with his cock rippling and flexing between her legs. “My birthday present.”
“Why is it right next to the bed?”
She liked to look at it. “Because you told me to put it there.” He had, hadn’t he? “And I didn’t want to hurt your feelings.”
His belly rumbled with a full out laugh. “Since when did you consider that I had feelings?”
“I know you have feelings.” She allowed affront to slip into her tone and a suddenly stiff posture.
He had feelings. And she damn well knew she could crush them. She’d done it, too, a few days ago when he’d revealed his worst mistake to her. He’d paid for a teenage girl he knew to have an abortion and lived to regret it when he found out she’d lied to him about being raped by her own father. Max hadn’t shown him an ounce of sympathy, but that was her issue. Nothing to do with him. The apology she’d given him later didn’t make up for the fact that she’d screamed at him to get out when he’d first made that confession. Damn, she really did not want to think about how she’d let him down that night.
“Can we not talk about this now?” she practically begged.
“You’re right, baby, let’s forget it.”
Max wondered if he could, but then he put the tiny wheels on her belly and drove the truck up to her breasts. Cool and rough, tiny sparks shot down to her clitoris. She really didn’t want to examine her affect on his emotions at a time like this.
“Do not make any truck noises while you’re doing that.”
He sputtered with a little-boy imitation of a truck engine, then did a wheelie around one nipple. The undercarriage scraped and tingled.
“I cannot believe you’re playing with it.”
He laughed, then drove straight down to her pubic hair. Damn, it felt good. His cock pulsing between her legs, laughter, and the toy truck rumbling above her entrance.
He grabbed her hand, closed it over the tiny vehicle. “Drive it over my cock.”
“You’ve gotta be kidding?” She almost laughed, had to bite her lip to keep from doing so.
He heaved, dislodging her, then wrapped her fingers around the truck. “Drive it.”
God, he was adorable with that twinkle in his eye and his lips curved in that sexy smile. Adorable. Once, she’d told herself that wasn’t her word, but Witt was so freaking adorable.
She drove the hard long road of his cock, executed a fast, squirrelly turn on his belly and rammed into gear straight back along the ridge of his penis to his tip. A drop of cum leaked out.