Randy grips my ass and presses his hips into mine, pinning me against the wall. I always end up pinned against something. Beds are the nicest since they’re soft. He groans and starts rocking his hips, like he’s planning to fuck me right through our clothes—not that I’m wearing many. My legs are cold thanks to the stupid skirt. I forgot to pack leggings, but I wasn’t stopping home to get a pair.
He palms my ass with one hand and cups the back of my head with the other. At first I think it’s to protect me from any kind of banging. But he curls his fingers in my hair and tugs my head back. It’s not gentle, but it’s not rough either.
I lift my chin, and his mouth descends on my throat. His lips are so soft; his teeth make me shiver. “I need you naked. Now.”
“I’m not stopping you.”
He carries me over to the bed, which is a relief. I’ve been on the ice all day and a prone position is much preferred. So is a mattress over a wall. Randy finds the hem of my shirt and pulls it over my head. His eyes dart to my chest. I bought a new bra two days ago when I started toying with the idea of cabbing it here.
“This looks new.”
“I haven’t worn it much.”
“Does it still have the tags attached?” He slides a finger under the strap at my back and kisses along the lacy edge.
“Haha. Why don’t you take it off and find out.”
He looks up at me, still wearing that fiery expression. With one easy flick he opens the clasp. I make a noise that turns into a moan when he noses the cup out of the way and immediately sucks a nipple into his mouth. Oh God. I’d forgotten how good it feels to have his hands and mouth on me.
Okay, no I hadn’t. But I’ve been trying to forget for the past four weeks, because I’m not so sure I’m managing this casual thing all that well.
I’ve been dying to see him this entire time, aching for the feel of him on me, around me, in me. If it was just the sex, I’d be okay, but it’s not. I think I might actually like him—as a human being. A person. A man. If he didn’t live in another country, I might want to date him. And that’s a bad thing to want, because Randy doesn’t date. I know this.
When my mom wouldn’t give me the car for the night I was pissed—and maybe a little relieved. But then I started thinking about it. And Randy. And how this might be the last time I get an opportunity to be naked with him. He seems into these encounters we have, but he could strike me from his list at any time. The sex is amazing. I didn’t want to end up regretting not having it again. Just in case. Which is pathetic, but I’m not going to focus on that right now. Instead I’m going to focus on the feel of Randy’s mouth on my nipple.
I’m also going to work on getting him naked. I shove my hands under his shirt until I reach his pecs. I give his nipples a little tweak—but not too hard, because I’m not sure how he’ll react. Reversing the motion, I run my nails down his tight stomach. His whole body does this vibrating thing, like he’s on some weird radio frequency, and he breaks the suction. “Your nipples. Fuuuuck.”
It’s not much of an explanation. He sits back on his knees and works on getting his shirt off. He doesn’t bother with buttons, just yanks his tie over his head. I go for his belt buckle, but he gets there first. He’s just as aggressive with that as he was with the shirt. He pulls it free, and it snaps against the comforter.
I eye the belt. He’s still holding it. “I don’t do spankings.”
“What if I do?” He slides it ominously along his palm.
“Then you can pass that over, and I’ll do my best not to feel bad about smacking you around with it.”
Some of the heavy mood dissipates, and Randy cracks a smile. “Don’t worry, luscious Lily. That’s not my thing. Hair pulling is a totally different story, though.”
“I like the hair pulling.”
“I know.” He pops the button on his pants and slides them over his hips, kicking them off.
He’s not wearing his favorite underwear, maybe because he wasn’t expecting me. Before I can shove my hand into his boxers and get a look at Nessie, he flips my skirt up. I’m rewarded with one of his amazing groans. My vagina claps her pretty lips, and my magic marble lights up like we’ve won the million-dollar prize. Sexing with Randy is almost that good.
“You bought these for me.” He’s not asking, he’s telling.
I’d lie, but it’s pointless. Also, acknowledging will likely get me what I want faster. Which is his cock inside me. “I did.”
“I promise I won’t shred them with my teeth, but I really want to.” Randy shakes his head and looks down at my crotch like it’s a dessert he’s dying to eat, but can’t. Which is ridiculous, because he can have it whatever way he wants it. Well, almost any way. I’m not down with him trying to stick his whole damn hand in there, or any weird things like produce.
He runs his hands slowly up the outside of my thighs, taking a few deep breaths. He’s muttering to himself a little. Maybe it’s a pep talk.
“Everything okay up there?” Again, I’m going for snark, but I’m still a little discombobulated by how intense he’s being, so it’s more breathy than sarcastic.
“Everything’s fuckin’ fantastic.” He bites his bottom lip and exhales a couple more heavy, deep breaths. His fingertips slip under the elastic.
I whimper when they don’t stay there, but glide back down to my knees. I part my legs, giving him lots of room to get all up in there with whatever he wants—fingers, tongue, dick. Any of them are welcome at Lily’s Vagina Emporium.