Hard Beat

“Thank you,” she whispers softly as her fingers thread through my hair, nails scratching my scalp in the most hypnotizing of ways.

“He asked me how we were getting along.”

I love the throaty laugh that follows with that hint of the unique rasp of her voice to it. It sounds almost as if she’s holding a secret and I’ll be the only one she’s going to tell. It also causes that slow burn of desire that’s always on low flame to start to simmer inside me.

“And what did you tell him?”

“Hmm… that we were managing one day at a time. That I still found you irritating and a know-it-all. That it was a real feat for me to sit hours on end with you and not want to strangle you. But that at least you were good at taking photographs because you can’t play Scrabble for shit,” I deadpan as her hands still in my hair and I wait for her reaction.

“Irritating, huh?” She removes her hands from my scalp and steps in front of me. She lifts an eyebrow in challenge as I try to figure out just where she’s going with this.

“Yep. And a know-it-all,” I say with a nod and a smart-ass smile on my lips as my eyes flicker down to the deep V of where her robe parts. Only about a foot-long section is closed now, affording me a killer view of her cleavage down to just above her belly button and a lot of leg, and damn if I don’t suddenly lose all train of thought.

“Well, Pulitzer, I’m so sorry that it’s so taxing for you to have to sit with me all… day… long,” she says in the breathiest of voices, drawing every single word out at the same time she steps forward and stands so that her legs straddle both of my thighs. I slide my eyes ever so slowly from her legs up her torso to meet her gaze, my hands itching to reach out and touch, but shit, I’ll let her take the reins for a bit to see just where she takes this because I’m liking the direction already.

“It’s a hard job, but somebody’s got to do it,” I say with emphasis. And of course at that same moment she lowers herself to sit astride my lap, ass on my knees, placing the enticing heat of her * right atop my cock. I have to hold back the wave of dizziness that threatens to assault me from the downright mind-rattling sensation.

“I like hard jobs,” she whispers as she leans in and brushes her lips against mine so that I can smell the toothpaste on her breath and the lotion on her skin. I lean forward to try and deepen the kiss, but she pushes her hands against my chest to keep me still in my chair while her hand snakes between her parted thighs to cup me.

And while damn those fingernails felt incredible on my scalp, the muted sensation of them scraping over the fabric hugging my nuts is Heaven. I groan, a man wanting his woman and not ashamed to show it. “Beaux…” My head falls back as the feeling of her more-than-competent hands on me shifts my train of thought from one frustration to a whole different type.

“Don’t speak, Tanner,” she says, causing me to snap my head forward and catch the taunt in her smile and desire in her eyes. “I’m annoying.” She slides backward off my lap. “And irritating.” She drops to her knees before me. “And while I may suck at Scrabble, I can suck other things much better.”

Yes. Please.

Our eyes hold, her lips twist with humor, and as I look at her on her knees before me with her hands running up my thighs, her thumbs stroking over my khaki-clad cock, the only thought I can process is what a lucky man I am.

We never break eye contact as her hands push my knees apart so that she can wiggle her way in between them and her hands begin to work the button and zipper on the shorts. In perfect sync with her, I lift up as she tugs my clothes down, and my dick springs free.

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