Drop Dead Sexy

“Why on earth would you want to see that?”

“In a way it would be like an anthropological dig. I could see who you were back in the day.”

“Trust me, you wouldn’t find it interesting.”

Catcher waggled his eyebrows. “The part where I fantasized about a young, curious girl discovering herself would be.”

I wrinkled my nose. “Ew, that’s disgusting.”

“My fantasy or you getting yourself off?”

“The fantasy.”

“Ah, so you’re admitting that you got yourself off back then.”

Ignoring him, I unlocked the back door and pushed the gurney inside. “Oh come on, Liv. Be a big girl and admit that you diddled yourself back in the day. Buttering your biscuit as a teenager is nothing to be ashamed of. I was twelve the first time I spanked the monkey.”

I glared at him over my shoulder. “Would you please have some respect for the dead? I don’t think it’s too much to ask for the words “diddled” and “spanked the monkey” not to be spoken around Mr. Delaney.”

Catcher grinned. “Ha, that’s just an excuse to avoid the question.”

“Whatever,” I mumbled. After easing Mr. Delaney into the first prep room, I walked into the second prep room to turn up the freezer. I would keep him on ice tonight until I could talk to his family or next of kin about their wishes for burial or cremation. Once the temperature was adjusted, I opened the freezer door and leaned in to see the fan had started cooling.

The next thing I knew Catcher grabbed me by the waist and jerked me back against his hard body…and his hard cock. He buried his head in the crook of my shoulder and licked a fiery path from my collarbone up to my ear. “What the hell are you doing?” I demanded.

“I would think it would be self-explanatory that I want to fuck you.”

“H-Here? N-Now?”

“Hell yes.”

One of Catcher’s hands slid up my ribcage to cup my breast. My traitorous body instantly responded to his touch. “Do you have some kind of necrophilia fetish that you haven’t told me about?” I asked as I tried to ignore my hardening nipple.

He chuckled. “No, babe, I don’t. It’s more about the fact when you leaned over just now, I not only got a fabulous view of your ass, but you’re wearing those sexy-as-fuck thigh highs.”

“So it’s a pantyhose specific fetish you have?”

I gasped as Catcher’s other hand dipped between my legs. “Yeah, it is.”

Since the funeral home was empty without any visitations and Mr. Delaney was hanging out in the other room, I decided to give in and have hot, dirty sex. Catcher’s sexts from earlier coupled with the way he had kissed me in my foyer had been like an extended foreplay through the evening. I reached behind me, cupping the growing erection in Catcher’s pants. He groaned into my ear.

Just as I started working him over his slacks, he whirled me around. His hands came to the buttons on my blouse. After fumbling unsuccessfully for a few seconds, he jerked the fabric apart. I gasped as the buttons went flying through the air. I narrowed my eyes at him. “You ruined my shirt.”

“I’ll make it up to you with an extra orgasm.”

I grinned. “Deal.”

My bra was jerked away with the same desperation as my shirt. Catcher dipped me back as his mouth closed over one of my nipples. “Hmm,” I moaned, my hands jerking through his hair. God, the man had a mouth like a Hoover. When his lips went to my other nipple, his hands slid down my ribcage and came to the hem of my skirt. He jerked it up over my waist before tearing my panties down my thighs.

When his hand cupped me between my legs, I moaned. His fingers tapped over my clit like he was doing Morse Code before he thrust two of them deep inside me. “Oh fuck, Catcher,” I groaned.

“Does that feel good, baby?” he asked, his breath scorching against my neck.

“Yes. Oh yes.”

“After you come, do you want me to eat your * or put my hard cock where my fingers are?”

Hmm, decisions, decisions, decisions. As I bit down on my lip to keep from shrieking with pleasure, I glanced at the doorway. So much for worrying about Mr. Delaney hearing “diddled” and “spanked the monkey.” Mr. Dirtytalk was putting that to shame.

I gripped Catcher’s shoulders so tight I was sure I would leave marks. I panted and whimpered as my hips moved frantically to rub my clit against Catcher’s hand. And then my body tensed as I came hard. “Catcher!” I screamed.

He brought my mouth to his for a lingering kiss. He didn’t remove his fingers until my walls had stopped convulsing. His fingers then went to unbutton and unbuckle his pants.

I gave him a lazy smile. “I guess this means no oral satisfaction, huh?”

Catcher shook his head. “I’ve got to get inside you, or I’m going to explode.”