Trick - By Lori Garrett Page 0,28

waiting for you to come back to me.”

“Here I am,” I say, cursing the words the minute they leave my mouth.

As if I’m not already headed for enough damn trouble, I start to whisper in her ear, things I want to do, and exactly how I want to do them until she’s shaking in my arms, begging me to take her home.

I shut down my last few working brain cells, the ones that are screaming that I’m sinking myself deeper into the kind of trouble I’ll never be able to get out of.

Maybe I don’t fucking want out. Maybe I want to go back to that time, three years ago, when it felt like I had a chance with Harlow. Maybe I want to make good on the promises I made to her, then broke. Maybe I want to finally make my mama proud and fight for the right girl.

She holds on tight while I take her home, back to my house, a few hundred feet from the barn where we fucked like crazy when we were hardly more than kids.

I can’t get her in the house fast enough. She walks in and sits on the stairs, crooking a finger at me. I shake my head and scoop her into my arms.

“Gunner?”

“I’m taking you up to my room. To my bed. I’m not going to stop touching you until your throat is raw from screaming my name. Because you’re about to come until you can’t come anymore. And then we’re going to start from the top.”

“Gunner!” she cries, shock in her voice.

I nod. “That’s a good start. But next time, I want it louder. And I’d prefer to be buried in that sweet pussy while you holler.”

I kick the door of my room open and drop her on the bed. She scrambles off before I get a chance to climb on top of her, and I think for a second she’s going to leave me.

Which is good, much as it flat lines my heart. She needs to turn and run before I decide I’m not letting go of her.

“So I had this dance professor who was very, um, creative.” She fumbles with her phone, docking it on the station near the bed. “She had us learn to...strip.”

The music starts and it’s like she sheds any uncertainty. The way she moves is the perfect mix of sexy and confident. She looks me right in the eyes, and I wonder how I ever thought those blue eyes were innocent. She moves to the music, her hips and ass shaking to the rhythm as she pulls her dress up a few inches, slides it back down, then pulls it up a few more.

The softly rounded bottom of her bare ass peeks out, and my breath sucks in. She’s wearing a thong that’s nothing more than a bunch of ribbons tied together. Bright red. Like she’s a Christmas gift wrapped up in a bow, only for me.

She turns her back to me. The music pulses in my ears, and I can’t take my eyes off of her. She pulls the little zipper down in the back of her dress, and the white lace slinks to the floor. All she’s wearing is a lacy red bra, that tiny thong, and her black stilettos. I know for a fact the next time I watch her dance out in public, this is the image I’ll have in my head.

I’m not sure I’m ever gonna be able to watch her dance in public for long.

The minute I’m alone, I swear I’m gonna get on my knees and thank God that I get to keep this image of her in my head forever.

The way her body moves makes my dick throb hard. She runs her hands up and down her body, slowly, in time to the sexy song, and hooks her thumbs in the waist of her thong, tugging down an inch.

“I want to watch you, too.” She nods her head my way. “I want to watch you touch yourself, Gunner.”

I swallow hard as she dips low and rocks back up, teasing me with a quick flash of her nipples and a shake of her ass.

“You’re so damn hot, baby,” I say, unbuckling my pants and tugging down on my zipper. I fold my boxer briefs back and take my dick, already rock hard, in my hands.

She sucks that bottom lip in and bites down, then dips a hand between her legs, rubbing the exact place where I want