a possibility.
I grind on him, riding the ridge of his dick, experimenting with different angles and different amounts of pressure.
Each time I change, Colt lets out another sound—a whimper, a groan, a strangled growl—his abs flexing and rippling as they contract and relax along with me.
“I think I hate wearing underwear,” Colt mutters after a few minutes.
Stopping, I grin. His fingers tighten on my hips, trying to get me to move again, but I resist. For now. “Honestly, I was surprised you’re wearing any. You usually don’t.”
He opens his eyes, dark with lust. “Jeans aren’t soft enough for that. And with you around, there’s a strong chance of getting a hard-on, and pressing up against the back side of a zipper? No thank you. I need a layer of protection.”
“Speaking of protection …”
His dick twitches beneath me, but he gives me a wary look tinged with hope. “What about it?”
I trail a finger down his chest, watching its progress. “Do you have any?”
He swallows audibly. “Uh, maybe?”
My eyes find his, my eyebrows arching in surprise. “You’re not sure?”
With a groan, he covers his face with his hands. “When I moved, I grabbed the last of a box in a fit of optimism. But it’s possible they’re expired.”
Flattening my hand, I move it across his pec, brushing over his flat nipple with my fingers, making him flinch.
One of his hands comes down and traps mine against his chest, the fine dusting of hair springy under my palm.
“How possible?”
He cracks open one eye and licks his lips, his dick twitching underneath me again. “Should I go check?” he asks in a voice husky with hope and desire.
I nod. “Yes,” I whisper, wanting to verbalize it so there’s no room for misunderstanding. “Go check. I want you inside me.”
Colt grasps both of my hands and places them behind his neck, then moves his hands to my ass. “Hang on,” he says, my only warning before he stands.
With a squeak of surprise, I reflexively clamp my limbs around him, and he lets out that low chuckle that never fails to send skitters of arousal dancing across my skin. I bury my face in his neck, as much to keep my head out of the way so he can see as to exact a tiny bit of revenge. Pressing my lips against his skin, I dart out my tongue for a taste, getting a hit of salt and skin and Colt. He shivers beneath me before dumping me on the bed.
“Hey!” I protest, but he just tosses a grin over his shoulder before digging through the drawer where he keeps his socks and underwear.
He comes up with a strip of three condoms and flips them over to check the date, then holds them over his head with a crow of triumph. “Still good.”
Propping myself up on my elbows, I grin at him. “I’m not sure what it says about you that you keep condoms around long enough that they might be expired before you use them.”
Completely unashamed, he steps closer to the bed, catching one of my ankles and dragging me toward him. “It says that I tend to buy a big box because they last for years, but I’m usually really busy and don’t have the time or opportunity for random hookups. Plus, I’ve been in this sort of involuntarily celibate relationship for months now.”
Lying flat now, I grin up at him where he leans over me, my arms over my head. “Oh yeah? How’s that going for you?”
Another bark of laughter as he tosses the condoms onto the bed next to me and trails his fingertips down my torso, from sternum to the top of my seamless thong. “Better than ever.”
“Really? How so?” The catch in my voice betrays my arousal as he explores my skin with his hands, the pressure just firm enough that it doesn’t tickle. His touch is intimate, but mostly chaste, sticking to my belly, my ribs, my sternum, my shoulders, avoiding my breasts and anything below the waistband of my panties.
He glances at my face before refocusing on the paths his fingers trace on my skin and lets out a soft, considering hum. “For one thing, I’m pretty sure the involuntary celibacy is just about over.” When he glances at me again, I nod to confirm that for him. Smiling, he rewards me by cupping one breast and rubbing his thumb over my nipple. I let out a sigh of pleasure and relief.
“For another thing,” he continues, “we’ve