And there it was. That inevitable, electric pull we’d always shared. That all-consuming, obsessive attraction we’d never been able to deny, try as we might. It was always there. Even when he wasn’t.
He stepped slightly out of my grasp, a wicked expression on his face, holding my gaze prisoner as he rolled down his sleeves, starting to get himself undressed right before my very eyes. But I stopped him when his hands went to his throat.
“No. I want to do it.”
That made him smile a shit-eating grin, and his eyebrows raised as my hands worked the buttons down his chest.
“Trip? Could you do me a favor and try not to look so damn pleased with yourself?”
That made him chuckle. “I can’t help it. I’m about to nail my old girlfriend in my old room. You know how many times I jerked off right there just thinking about it? And now you’re here. And I totally get to rape your ass.”
“Yeah, um, you go anywhere near my ass and you’ll be whacking off alone again.”
“Don’t knock it ‘til you’ve tried it, sweetheart.”
He cracked up as he pulled me toward him, reaching around my back to lower the zipper of my dress, whispering against my ear, “Don’t worry, Lay. I’m gonna fuck you just right.”
Yep. I hear ya. That line did it for me, too.
I shivered at his words, the feel of his breath on my skin. He grabbed at the neckline of my dress and pulled one side down my shoulder, kissing the bared skin there before sliding the fabric down my body.
As it pooled into a heap on the floor at my feet, I stood there feeling a bit insecure in just my bra and panties. I mean, the last time Trip had seen me naked, I was in the body of a seventeen-year-old, toned to the bejeezus. To be honest, at the age of thirty-one, things had kind of shifted, filled out, and well, dropped since then. To add insult to injury, I rarely worked out over the winter months, and being that it was the middle of February, I was also ass-pale as well.
But Trip didn’t seem to notice as he cupped my breast over my bra, testing its new weight, running his other hand over my curved hip, pulling me toward him for a kiss. Tongues entwined, I slid my palms over his bare chest to his shoulders, dropping his shirt to the floor as I kicked my dress away from my feet.
He suddenly turned me in his arms, pulling my back against his front as he shoved my hair away and attacked my neck. I leaned into him, raising my arms to his hair, pulling his face in tighter against my skin as his hands went to my front, groping at my breasts and pressing himself against the small of my back. I did what any sane woman would do in that situation, which was to rise up on tiptoes so I could press my backside against the steel rod poking me from behind. He let out a groan and playfully shoved me over the footboard of his bed, my hands splaying out on the mattress to stop my fall as he pulled down my undies and gave me a slap on my ass.
We both laughed when he smacked me, and I stood up, shooting him a look. “Be nice, Chester.”
He pulled me to him, unhooking my bra and replying, “I will be nice. But only for so long.”
The wicked smile he aimed at me shot an electric charge down my entire length—my entire naked length—as I stood there, trying to not fidget while he looked me up and down.
He was entirely way too clothed for my liking. It wasn’t fair.
I went to unbutton his slacks when I noticed his abs, and stopped short. I mean, I had just stripped off his shirt, but I hadn’t yet really looked at him, you know?
I took a step back and appraised the sight of the naked torso in front of me. He’d always had an amazing body, but Christ. Trip had gotten freaking ripped.
I put my hands to my hips and asked, “Are you kidding me? What the hell is this?”
My anger probably missed its mark, considering I was standing there totally nude. It’s hard to be taken seriously when you’re not wearing any clothes.
He knew exactly what I was talking about and was trying to contain a smile as he asked, “What?”
I rolled my eyes. “When did this happen? Jesus. Look at you! Give a girl a heads up about such a thing, huh?”
That made the smile crack his features. “What? So I’ve been hitting it a little harder lately. I just came off a gladiator film and I’m starting a hockey flick in a few weeks. Occupational hazard, I guess.”
“Yeah. A hazard to me, maybe! Here I am with my saggy ass and you’re standing there looking like Michelangelo’s David, you jagweed!”
He stepped closer, grabbing my butt and pulling me into direct contact with what was assuredly going to be revealed as his perfect dick. He probably lifted weights with that thing, too. His cock probably possessed its own set of washboard abs.
“Your ass,” he stated firmly, “along with the rest of you, is perfect.”
I gave him a “yeah right” look.