Focus. I needed to focus. There was a reason this was a bad idea. I just had to think really hard.
“Take this shirt off for me,” Preston said in a harsh whisper. Then he pulled my shirt over my head and dropped it somewhere to the side of us. His eyelids were lowered, and it only made him sexier. I hadn’t realized that was possible.
With one hand Preston reached around me and undid the hooks on my bra, then pulled it away. I’d been with him like this before, but it had been dark outside. We weren’t in the dark now, and Preston’s words “I know your boobs aren’t that big” came back to haunt me. I didn’t have the cup size most of the girls he dated did. He liked big boobs. Mine were nowhere near what he was used to. I glanced around frantically for my shirt.
“Manda, don’t.” Preston ran his hand through my hair and turned my head back toward him. Then his mouth covered mine. The soft warmth of his lips as they nipped and tasted me made my insides turn to butter. I slipped both my hands around his neck and held him there, afraid he’d realize I had small boobs or that he didn’t want to do this again and push me away.
Letting out a low growl, Preston grabbed both my legs and pulled me completely onto his lap until I was straddling him. The pressure from his erection pressed against me sent shots of pleasure through my body.
I fisted my hands in his hair and continued to taste him and get lost in the connection I’d been denied before. His teeth caught my bottom lip, and he bit down gently with a small tug. I trembled and pressed down harder on his arousal, causing us both to moan from the sensation.
Preston’s hands ran up my thighs, and then they both went up to cup my br**sts. Once again I was reminded how lacking I was in that department. I tensed and started to move back.
“What’s wrong?” Preston asked, pulling me closer even as I tried to pull away.
“Nothing. But . . . can I just wear my shirt?”
Preston lowered his head, keeping his eyes locked with mine until his tongue darted out and licked over one of my ni**les. Then he pulled it into his mouth, and my body betrayed me by shooting off fireworks. I grabbed his shoulders and held on as he continued to lavish attention on one breast, then the other one. The cries of pleasure coming from my mouth couldn’t be helped. Preston’s tongue had complete control of my body.
When the warmth from his talented administrations stopped, I opened my mouth to beg for more, but the snap on my blue jean shorts stopped me. Looking down, I watched as Preston unzipped my shorts, then ran his hand over the pink satin of my panties.
“Why did you want to put your shirt on, Manda?” he asked, raising his eyes to meet mine.
My shirt? What? I was confused. . . .
“What?” I asked, mesmerized by the way his long lashes brushed his cheeks as he stared at me with this hungry, intense gleam in his eyes.
“You wanted your shirt on. Why?”
Oh yeah . . . my shirt. I’d forgotten.
“Um, my, uh, it was just that . . .” I didn’t want to say this. I didn’t want to bring it up. I just wanted him to keep slipping his hand farther down my shorts. If I reminded him that my boobs were too small for his taste, this may not happen.
He cupped one of my br**sts and ran his thumb over my nipple. “They taste as sweet as they look,” he whispered in a husky voice.
“Oh,” I breathed, watching him touch me.
“So why would you want to cover them up?”
He wasn’t going to let this go. Sighing, I tried to will his hands to slip farther down my shorts. It didn’t work. He wasn’t going to do anything else until I answered him.
“Because they’re smaller than you like,” I mumbled, ducking my head to hide the humiliation on my face from having to actually say that out loud.
Preston froze, and I mentally cursed. I knew it. He’d stop now.
“Stand up, Amanda.” It wasn’t a request. It was a command.
He was sending me to take a cold shower. I crawled off his lap and stood up, crossing my arms over my chest. I would look for my shirt later. Turning, I started to head to the shower, when Preston grabbed my hips and pulled me back. “Where do you think you’re going?” he asked.
I glanced back at him. “The bathroom, to cool down.”
Preston lowered his eyebrows and shook his head. “No, you’re not.”
Did he want me to leave instead?
“Turn around, Manda.” The deep, authoritative voice sounded sexy, but I didn’t want to turn around. I wanted to go hide in the bathroom. “Please, baby. Turn back around,” he whispered in my ear.
He knew how to work me. That was for sure. Slowly I turned back around, keeping my arms crossed over my bare chest. Preston reached down and tugged on my unzipped shorts until they were sliding down my legs. “Step out of them,” he told me, and I did without question.