Mister O

Snagging my keys, I head for the door. But I stop when my hand wraps around the doorknob. I inhale sharply as I make a critical change in the batting lineup. This pains me. Truly it does. But I’m a patient man. I remove the condoms from my pocket and toss them on the kitchen counter, benching the possibility of sex as I leave them behind.

She wants lessons in seduction. One of the most important ones is how to wait for it. Besides, there are so many other ways to make her come.

I arrive at her building, and she buzzes me in. When I reach her door and knock, she opens it, and I’m pretty sure I growl—low and guttural like an animal—because of how she looks. Her face is flushed, her cheeks are red, her hair falls wildly, and she’s changed into shorts and a white T-shirt.

“Hi,” she says.

I don’t look around. I don’t take in the decor of her tiny apartment. I roam my eyes over her, but it’s not the new outfit that gives her away. It’s the rosy glow on her cheeks. I shut the door behind me, bring my nose to her chest, and drag it along her flesh up to her ear, whispering harshly, “Did you just masturbate while waiting for me to get here?”

I wrench back, and the answer is evident in her eyes. They have that caught-red-handed look, and oh what I wouldn’t give to have walked in on her a few minutes ago.

She swallows and nods. “Are you mad at me?”

I shake my head and grasp her wrists, pinning them at her sides, crowding her against the wall by her door. My body is pressed to hers. “Do I feel mad?”

“You feel hard.”

I push against her, and a jagged moan falls from her lips as she feels my erection. “I would never be mad at you for coming. But tell me something—why couldn’t you wait?” There’s no anger in my tone, only a pulsing curiosity. I want to hear her answer. I grind my pelvis against her.

Her eyes flutter closed as she moans. “I was so turned on on the train. It was all I could think about.”

I dip my head to her chest, letting go of one wrist to tug at her shirt. I brush my lips against the swell of her breast then nip her soft flesh. “What did you think about when you were getting off?”

“You.”

The way she says that one word unleashes a current of desire under my skin. “What did I do to you?”

“It was what I did to you.”

That stops me. I raise my face. “What did you do to me?”

In a flash, her hand darts out, and she presses it against my hard-on, palming my dick through my jeans. I hiss. Fuck, that feels good.

“Got down on my knees and took you in my mouth,” she answers, and my dick is practically ready to smack me upside the head for ditching the protection. What was I thinking, wanting to be patient? I want to be inside her for the rest of the night. I want to go through one, two, three condoms or more. She is so fucking hot, and my mind is swimming in a sea of lust.

“Is that something you want to do? Something you want me to include in our lesson plan?” I bring my hands to her sexy little shorts and pop open the button, then tug down the zipper.

Her hips wriggle. “Yes. So much. I want to give it to you exactly how you want it. I want to do all my homework.”

I’ve never looked forward to an assignment so much. Because with her tongue is exactly how I want a blow job.

But not now.

I meet her gaze and arch an eyebrow. “Good to know. Now you have to wait for it. Because I told you I was taking care of you first, and I’m not changing my mind, princess, just because you’re so fucking wound up for me.”

“I’m so wound up,” she says, clasping my face, running her hands over my beard like she did that night on the street outside her home. I wonder briefly if she was touching me then in an exploration, like she is now, with fire in her fingertips, with lust thrumming in her body, with this same dose of raging hormones that I feel.

“Have you ever come more than once?”

“In a day?”

I roll my eyes, laughing briefly. “No. I’m going to presume those busy fingers have polished the pearl more than once in a day. Let’s say, in a thirty-minute timespan. As in, one right after the other?”

She shakes her head. “I don’t think I can.”

“First time for everything.”

I yank her shorts to her knees, and they fall to the floor. She steps out of them, and I inch back to look at her. I drag a hand over my jaw. She’s so stunning. Her legs are long and toned. Her panties are black lace with a tiny pink bow on the front. It’s dainty and sexy at the same time. And it’s for me.

My temperature shoots through the roof.

“So you were so worked up you couldn’t wait,” I say, as if I’m musing on the topic. I drag my hand down her belly then under her shirt. My fingers trace her soft stomach.

She trembles as I touch her. “I was so wet, Nick.”

I hum and breathe out hard. “I bet you’re still wet. I bet you’re even wetter now that I’m here. Is that right?”