Jana

I’m having a random afternoon hook-up with my delivery driver, and instead of climbing him like a tree or rubbing against him like a cat in heat—okay, I might have done, but then I stopped—and I suggested he put on my cat slippers.

Even crazier is the look on his face, like he might just be into this. Slipper sex. Or…slipper foreplay. Do slippers count as lingerie? Guy lingerie?

Maybe for a girl with three cats and a foster kitten.

Because oh yeah, I want to see him in them.

Nothing else, just slippers. And that erection I shamelessly rubbed one out against on my kitchen counter.

I want that erection freed for both our pleasures. But I want him wearing the slippers, too.

“Lead the way,” he says, a lazy, dirty smile curling up his face, and that makes me so happy I squeal a tiny bit as I take his hand and tug him toward my bedroom.

We don’t get all the way there, because halfway down the hall he wraps his arms around my waist and presses his face into my neck. He shaved this morning, but there’s enough stubble on his jaw now to make me feel each kiss. I love that. I want to look at my skin in the mirror tomorrow and see where he imprinted on me.

“Slippers can wait a minute,” he says roughly as he spins me around and presses me against the wall.

“What—” I don’t get the rest of my question out before his mouth crashes into mine, hot and demanding. His hands find mine, inviting me to touch him. I trace the length of his erection through his uniform as he palms my butt, first through my clothes, then a rough slide of his palm into my pants.

He’s groping me, flat-out. Can’t keep his hands off my butt, needs to touch me like whoa. Groping. Me.

This definitely has to be a dream.

“Your ass was just too inviting,” he whispers.

“I’m not complaining,” I whisper back. “Grope all you want.”

The way he mauls my boob next makes me blush, and then that possessive squeeze turns into something way slicker. Even when he’s overcome with lust, he’s got moves, this one. His thumb rolls my nipple in a way that tugs on my clit from the inside, and I thunk my head back against the wall.

At this rate, we’re not getting to the slippers, and I’m entirely okay with that. Fuck me against the wall, Delivery Guy. Do it. Do it hard, do it fast, and do it like you’re an uncontrollable beast.

“You want that?” He growls and nips at my neck. “Hard and fast, right here against the wall?”

“I didn’t say that out loud.”

“Yes you did.”

“Oh my God.”

“I like it. You want me to be an uncontrollable beast?”

“No. Yes. Yes, but maybe like a little bit controlled? No, that’s a lie. Lose all your control.”

“Jana.”

“Am I babbling?”

He kisses me softly. “Oh yeah.”

“This is the first time I’ve ever invited a delivery guy to wear my cat slippers.”

“So you’re nervous.” He grins and kisses me again.

I’m not nervous when he kisses me. “But that beast thing is totally a go, if you’re into that.”

His eyes flare dark. “Yes. I’m into that.” He presses harder against me, pushing his cock into my palm. “But I like it even more if it’s your fantasy. Whatever makes you hot, makes me hard. Feel that?”

Instead of answering him, I squeeze his erection. I’ve never before thought, hey, this dick feels really good in my hand, but his does. Like…really good. Thick and heavy. Promising.

And as I touch him, the air between us shifts again. From playful back to intense, like it was in the kitchen, where a kiss got out of control in the best way possible.

He’s got a tool belt of sorts on, so I can’t just start undressing him, but there’s enough play to the fabric of his pants that I can jerk him off a bit. He leans in and catches my lower lip between his teeth, making something hungry inside me lurch. Yes. Now. Right here.

He gets my pants off, then his hand is in my panties and that feels like an excellent plan because his fingers are touching me and that’s incredible…but it’s so squirmalicious that my legs start shaking, and that’s the flaw in the awesome standing-in-the-hall sex plan.

The standing up part is hard when someone is playing my clit like a fine violin.

“You’re so soft,” he whispers. “Perfect.”

And whispering dirty, sweet, melt-me words in my ear.

I whimper, and somehow—does he have a third hand?—he picks me up and carries me the rest of the way to my bed.

“I’ve got you, wild thing. Trust the beast.” His fingers are wet as they trail over my thigh and find me again, slick and ready for him, and he kisses me. Rough and reckless, this kiss feels like. Rough and perfect.

How can something be so random, so almost-impossible, so totally reckless…and still perfect? Still totally, completely, stretch-out-naked-for-a-stranger right?

I tug his shirt out of his pants, and he pauses stroking me long enough to pull his belt off and shove it toward the foot of my bed, the heavy holsters on it clunking together. A cell phone tumbles out of one of them, but he doesn’t seem to care. As I work on his fly, he starts touching me again, and I don’t care about anything else, either.

He uses two fingers this time, and two Jake fingers are significant. They’re long and thick, and the stretch is enough to make me gasp. Plus he knows just what to do with them. Where to stroke and where to push. When to crook and curve and reach until I’m shamelessly riding his hand to my second orgasm.

And that’s when his phone rings.

Of course it is.

When my thighs are sticky and I’m half-naked and I still haven’t seen his cock up close and personal.

He swears under his breath.

“Do you have to…?” I trail off, because off course he has to. Otherwise he’d have turned it off or just ignored it. “It’s okay.”

It doesn’t really feel okay, but that’s the right thing to say here.

He shakes his head. “It’s fine.”

But then another phone starts ringing. Who has two cell phones? He hesitates, his knuckles turning white as he grips the blanket next to my head, and I push him lightly toward the end of the bed.

No way am I messing up this guy’s job just so I can get laid. “Answer it,” I say gently. “You can use the living room if you want.”

A look passes over his face, the skin around his eyes getting tight for a second, and I can’t read it. Is he embarrassed about his job? Or is he in trouble, and he doesn’t want to get dressed down by his boss in front of me?

“Or…”

He grimaces and finishes my thought. “Yeah. I gotta go. I’m sorry. You have no idea how sorry I am.”

I laugh weakly. “Well, I got mine. Twice. So…I’m sorry for you.” I look at his erection, still thick and heavy against the front of his boxer briefs, bulging out through the open fly of his uniform. So close.

He tosses the phone he’d picked up aside and leans forward, catching me around the back of my neck. He kisses me hard on the mouth. “I got my fingers wet, Jana. And it was the best thing I’ve ever felt. My tongue is fucking jealous. No way I’m not finishing this with you. I’ll be back.”