“Okay.”
“Okay.” I settled back against his outstretched arm. His hand hung low over my shoulder, and his other hand slid over my thigh. I squirmed appropriately and let out a dramatic sigh, my attention glued to Jason Momoa on the television, but my stomach fluttered and flipped over what Boner might be planning.
His lips hovered over the side of my face. His hand came up and brushed my hair away, a fingertip trailing down my neck. He leaned in, his warm breath fanning over my skin as he took my hand in his.
Every cell in my body braced for his whisper, his words. Something sexy, something hot, something— He shoved my hand between his legs. “You gonna suck my cock?”
“Boner!”
“What?” He laughed.
“Not like that!”
He laughed harder, his chest shaking. “A teenage guy would so say that.”
“Really?”
“He would think it.”
“Forget it.”
“I was kidding,” he said. “Let’s do it again.”
Shaking my head, I leaned forward and grabbed some popcorn from the bowl on the table.
“I can do this,” he said, pulling on the back of my dress. “I want to do this. Come on, work with me.”
I leaned into him once more and crossed my arms in front of my chest. His thigh pressed against mine as his nose trailed along the underside of my jaw.
“You smell good. I like your perfume,” he said.
“Thanks.” My eyes remained glued on the television.
He turned toward me, his one hand running slowly through the back of my hair and down my neck, leaving delicious shivers in its wake. Featherlight kisses whispered across my neck, my jaw, my cheek. My pulse pounded in my veins, but I still didn’t budge.
His fingers slid underneath the edge of my cotton sundress, lighting a trail of fire over my bare thigh. I held my breath as he got closer and closer until those long fingers touched my pulsating center ever so gently, ever so delicately. A veil of pleasure had me in its delicate net.
His fingers finally sank over the right place and stroked. “There you are,” he breathed.
A low moan escaped my throat.
“Shh. Mommy might hear us.”
He bit on my lower lip just as his fingertip edged under my panty and dipped inside me. His eyes were hooded, his lips parted. Our mouths were only degrees apart.
“Jillee.”
My breath shortened, and I angled my hips as more of his hand sank between my legs.
He nuzzled my ear. “I need your tits, baby.”
Fire zipped through my blood at the demand, at the raw ache in his voice. I leaned back against him and pushed the spaghetti straps off my shoulders, tugging the tube top of the dress down. My aching breasts spilled over the edge of the material.
“Play with ’em.”
I squeezed my breasts, kneading them, as his gaze burned over me in the harsh white glow of the TV.
“Fuck, you’re gorgeous, Firefly. Gorgeous.”
His fingers curled inside me, stroking my inner wall, and I gasped.
“Fuck my fingers, baby.”
I moved my hips against his hand, moaning as we both found the precise fantastic angle and rhythm together.
He kissed a breast, licking and nuzzling, his hair sweeping over the sensitive skin. “Fuck. I liked waking up with you when you spent the night with me at the club, those tits pressed into my back, waiting for me to suck on whenever I wanted.”
“Me, too.”
“You need to stay here though, huh?”
“I do.”
“I can’t stay here though,” he said.
“No.”
“Maybe I could stay and then sneak out the window?”
“That does fit right in with the—ah!—angst-teen theme we’ve got going on.”
“Shit…”
I rocked harder against him. “Could be fun.”
“Just watching you…I’m gonna fucking explode,” he said on a grunt. Bending his head, he licked the underside of a breast like a wildcat.
“I’d rather have you exploding inside me.”
“Want to do that, yeah, but I want to make you explode on my fingers first.” His fingers slowly dragged out and then dived back in, thrusting faster.
“Oh shit.” I gasped.
“So tight, baby.”
Every muscle in my body tensed and vibrated. My hips ground against his hand as his two fingers urged me toward higher ground, toward infinity. His thumb stroked over my clit, and wings fluttered inside me, creatures taking flight to a place I never knew existed and plunging me deep into an abyss. All of me hovered on the edge with them, with him, as they soared, lifting me higher.
He pushed one of my hands away, and his hot wet mouth sucked on the other breast. Suddenly, his hand left my body, and he dropped to the floor, his mouth between my legs. I cried out, my back arching, as he spread my legs wider, a hand around my thigh. He sucked on me with a needy hunger, and my hands clung to his hair. I shattered in that swirl of color and heat.
“Santiago!”