Playing with Fire

Page 62

Her hand moved faster over my dick. I yanked her underwear sideways, dipping one finger in while kissing a path down her throat. Soaked. I began thrusting two fingers into her, working her up, knowing I couldn’t keep the foreplay up much longer without coming.

Her hot mouth was on my jaw, sucking and nipping. My tongue was on her scars again, lapping, biting. I was rough. I was confident. I didn’t treat her like a china doll. A precious, fragile thing to be handled with care and pity.

I treated her like someone I wanted to fuck until my dick fell off.

She moaned, “More.”

I slid another finger into her, pumping as her hisses became louder. Greedier. She dropped her hand from my cock and clawed at her bed, pushing her face into her pillow to stifle a little scream, her hips bucking into my hand, demanding more.

“West, please.”

“Please, what?” I licked my way down her belly button, dipping my tongue into her perfect innie. My mouth watered as the scent of her became more prominent. I wanted my lips on every inch of this girl, so next time I saw her, I could look at her and think—I know what she tastes like. Everywhere.

“If we don’t do it right now, I might explode,” Grace said.

“I’ll spare you the trip to the ER.”

I rose to my knees, took my wallet out of my back pocket from my discarded jeans on the floor, grabbed a condom, and ripped open the packet, sheathing myself as one of my hands fondled her blemished tit. For some reason, it appealed to me even more than her milky white side. It turned me on, seeing how much she’d been through. How she’d come back swinging, strong and feisty. A survivor.

I sank back down, my body draped all over hers missionary-style, angling my cock toward her center. I drove in an inch at a time, hissing at every fraction of movement. She held my waist, sucking in a breath. We both watched as I slid in. She was hot and wet and damn snug.

Swear to God, I’d never wanted to be in Texas more than in that moment.

It was only when every inch of my cock was inside her that I looked back up at her face again and saw her biting her lower lip, stifling a giggle.

Which … wasn’t the usual MO for chicks who were under me.

I frowned. “Something funny?”

“It’s you.” She shook her head, her face glowing with mischief. “You look like you are on a mission. You should see yourself. So focused. So concentrated.”

I glared at her, not sure how to react.

“When I saw your, eh, thing, in the food truck, I was ninety-nine percent sure I never wanted it inside me. It seemed too big. Too threatening. But you make me feel so comfortable. Thank you.”

I dropped my head to her shoulder, giving it a quick kiss. Essentially, she’d just told me my dick wasn’t that big.

“Stop talking,” I ordered.

“Why? You’re so adorable.”

She called me adorable while I was inside her. Was I ever going to recover?

“Fuck you,” I groaned.

“Please do.”

“On it.”

I began moving inside her. Holy shit, did she feel amazing. Sex always felt damn good. But with Texas, it wasn’t just better, it was … different. We fit.

With each thrust, I felt my balls tightening and tingling, my dick throbbing and pulsating. She shivered in my arms, and I knew she was close, too.

C’mon, Tex. Come before I do.

I wondered since when did I care. I wasn’t a complete jackass. I made sure it was fairly good to the person I was with. Oral aside, I ticked all the boxes—foreplay, strumming their pussy like it was a violin, kisses in sensitive spots, et cetera, et cetera. But I never cared if they hit the big O. Not as long as I knew the happy customers would recommend me to their friends.

With Texas, I cared.

“West. Oh. Lord.” She grabbed my face and lowered my head. I kissed her roughly, my fingers finding her clit between us and rubbing in circles.

Come, or I will have to die from cum poisoning.

“Are you close?” I groaned.

“I’m …” she started, but then flinched, froze, and every muscle in her body tensed like she was having a stroke. She clenched around me so hard the rest of my body had no say in what happened next. I felt my cum shooting into the condom as I experienced the most intense orgasm I’d ever had.

She spasmed around my cock.

“Comin’.”

Thank. Fuck.

“Me too, baby. Me too.”

Grace

 

I had sex.

With a boy.

Here was the real kicker—I enjoyed it. I even climaxed once.

Fine, twice.

All right, thrice.

Who would have thought?

Not me, that was for sure. The carnal need in me to feel another body against mine, warm and alive, blew up like a hand grenade the minute West put his lips on my marred nipple and didn’t even flinch.

I tiptoed my way to the living room in an oversized shirt after spending the past three hours with West. It took us ten minutes to recover before tearing at each other again after that first time. I’d suspected we could have gone all night if it wasn’t for West running out of condoms.

Grams was asleep on the couch, snoring softly, her lips pinched in stern disapproval. I scooped up the tiny woman like she was a toddler, carrying her up to her bedroom. It was probably a weird visual to an outsider, but I’d gotten used to it over the years.

Savannah Shaw had the childlike quality of not waking up when she was put to bed. I’d been doing it for a while now. Even before Grams began losing touch with reality. When she still worked two jobs to support us. She’d always fall asleep on the couch. At first, I’d woken her up so she could go to bed—our sofa was narrow, tattered, and itchy—but she’d always wake up for good and end up cleaning the house, doing the dishes, or folding the laundry. With time, I mastered the art of carrying her to her room and tucking her in.

After I put Grams in her bed, I went back to my room. It was dark, hot, and damp, the scent of sex and man lingering in the air. The iced tea glasses I’d brought hours ago remained untouched, framed by little pools of sweat on my nightstand. West was sprawled in my bed, his arms tucked behind his head, his eyes trained on my ceiling, which had been freshly painted four years ago. He was shirtless, his lower parts covered haphazardly with my blanket. I took a mental photo of him like this, in my territory, calm and content.

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