compared to me. Fuck, she felt even better pressed against me.
She hadn’t pushed me away, didn’t tell me to stop. She touched me, held onto me, and here I was, my cock like a steel pipe between us, pressed to her belly, obscenely so.
Tell me you want this. Tell me you want me.
I pulled back just slightly, her scent surrounding me, enveloping me. I stared into her eyes, knowing my expression had to be fierce. It felt like it was. She had her head resting back on the wall, her lips parted, her breathing coming in short bursts, as if she couldn’t control it. I was buzzed from the couple shots I’d taken right before I followed her in here, the images of her getting undressed in front of her window playing on a loop in my head. I knew she’d known I was there, watching her, getting a look at all the skin she exposed. I’d seen the way she tried not to glance out that window every so often, as if hoping I was still there.
I should have left. But I didn’t. I watched her get nude, saw the nakedness of her breasts, the slope of those perfect mounds. Her nipples had been hard, pink peaks, and my mouth had watered violently for a taste.
And here I was, right here, right now, Pyper between me and a wall, my hard cock digging into her soft belly.
And she wasn’t pushing me away.
“You knew I was watching, seeing you get undressed,” I muttered those words low, so softly I didn’t know if she heard me clearly. But as she licked her lips then swallowed roughly, I knew she heard me clear as day. Then she slowly nodded.
“I knew.” She took a stuttering breath. “I did it for you. I wanted you to see me.”
God, the way she whispered that had my entire body tightening even more, painfully so.
I was barely hanging on, losing my control with each passing second. I was buzzed, my body on fire from the inside out, not even from the whiskey, but because I finally had Pyper pressed up against me. I was damn near crossing lines.
I already have.
But she wasn’t stopping this, wasn’t pushing me away. In fact, I felt her fingers dig into my arms, felt her chest arch into me. She wanted this.
She wants me.
Push this more. Go further, harder. See how much she’ll let you cross that line.
I moved my hands lower, over her slender shoulders, down her smooth arms exposed because of the tank top she wore. I continued until the pads of my fingers brushed along her wrists. I twisted my fingers so I could place my thumb at her radial pulse, feeling it beat fast and wild, a clear indication she was just as far gone as I was. I went lower still, slid my hands along her tucked-in waist, over her flat belly simply because I wanted to feel it hollow out when she sucked in a breath from my touch, and still descended until my fingertips were at the very bottom edge of her shorts. I pulled back then, looking into her drugged-like expression, her eyes hooded, her mouth parted as she panted for me.
I found myself rubbing my fingers over the edge of those little shorts, my fingers intermittently brushing against terrycloth before touching the warm, smooth skin of her thigh. How far would she let me go? I was curious—desperate—to find out. I was being brave—ballsy—as I moved my fingers down her leg, twisting my hand inward, and moved toward her inner thigh. All the while, I watched her, stared into her eyes to gauge her reaction.
And still, she didn’t stop me.
Fuck, she was going to let me touch the sweetest part of her.
But that wasn’t the sweetest spot on Pyper. And as I thought that, my gaze lowered to her lips. She was breathing so hard, her nails digging into my biceps deep enough it hurt. But the pain felt good. It mixed with my pleasure and made this all the more enjoyable. I was trying to control my breathing, to act like I wasn’t as affected as I was, but the truth was, I realized I was grinding my cock against her belly, the fucker like a lead pipe between us.
And closer I went until I nearly groaned when she parted her legs more, her breathing increasing, and I finally touched right between those pretty thighs of hers. I rubbed her slowly at