Page 38 of Trick Play
This time I don’t hold back my groan, and there’s no mistaking the evil grin curving her lips as she gets a few steps above me, where her profile is almost—but not quite—hidden by the distance. She wants to give me a show? Fine. Iloveshows. Especially sexy ones put on by girls for the express purpose of turning me on.
Taking my sweet time, I follow her up the stairs, enjoying every fucking step, my eyes glued to her ass, completely unaware if anyone else passes us.
When we finally reach her floor, she pushes the door open and holds it for me. Rather than taking the last few steps two at a time like I want to, I maintain my leisurely pace. Two can play this game.
But when I reach her, I yank her against me with one hand, the other tangling in her hair and pulling her head back so I can give her a punishing kiss.
It’s quick and hard, and she gives as good as she gets, all teeth clashing, tongues tangling, hands gripping. I fucking love it. My cock jumps, straining to bury itself inside her. Somewhere. Anywhere.
“Where’s your room?” I pant when I rip my mouth from hers.
“That way.” She gestures weakly behind me, and I break away, letting her pass me to lead the way. This time I don’t let her put distance between us. Or slow walk us the last few feet.
This time I wrap my arm around her, cinch her to my side, and speed walk us closer to our destination.
When she tries to slow us down, I growl.
But she just laughs. “Cal, stop. This is my door. We passed it.”
I release my breath in a huff and let her go, following her back two doors, leaning against the wall as she unlocks the door and pushes it open. Once we’re both inside, I flip the deadbolt and strip off my sweatshirt.
She looks at me, eyes wide, her tongue darting out to swipe over her lips. “Oh, we’re getting right to it, I see.”
“Is that a problem?” I grip the hem of my T-shirt and pull it up, not all the way, just enough to give her a peek at my abs.
She blinks a few times, seeming unable to decide whether to look at my face or my stomach. Eventually my stomach wins, and she steps closer, her hands reaching for my waist, pushing my shirt up more. Grinning, I oblige and pull the shirt off entirely, dropping it on top of my sweatshirt.
After toeing off my shoes, I step into her touch, loving her hands running up and down my torso, exploring in ways she didn’t on Monday night. Much as I’m enjoying it, I want to enjoy her as well.
She makes a soft sound of annoyance when I start tugging her top up, because she has to stop touching me long enough for me to get it off. But her hands immediately go back to my sides, and mine fall to her tits, plumped and pretty in a light pink cotton bra. It’s not the sexy lacy thing she wore for me Monday night, and while I appreciate nice lingerie, it’s what’s inside the package that matters more than the wrapping for me.
I give her tits a gentle squeeze, dipping the fingers of one hand inside the cup to find her nipple already hard and waiting for me. Her breath hisses through her teeth as I squeeze it between my fingers, rolling it around, and I smile at her responsiveness.
But I’m impatient, or I’ve just been waiting too damn long, and she’s made no effort to explore below my waistband.
Still rolling her nipple between my fingers, I flatten my other hand over hers, stilling it, then drag it down, down, down until her fingers curl around my aching cock.
“That’s better,” I mutter as she strokes me through my clothes. And it is. Better. But it’s still not fucking enough.
“I want you to suck me,” I whisper, dragging my thumb across her lips. “I want to see these pretty lips wrapped around my cock. Will you do that for me?”
She inhales sharply, her eyes dragging up to mine. She starts to nod, but then stops, the lust clearing from her gaze for a moment, her hand stilling on my dick. I thrust against it almost involuntarily.
“What’s wrong?”
She shakes her head. “Where’s your phone?”
I wrinkle my brows at the non-sequitur, but drop my hand from her face, reach into my pants pocket, and pull out my phone.
She takes it from my hand and steps back, forcing me to let go of her nipple as she releases my cock. Turning it over in her hand, she finds the power button and presses down on it until the thing turns off, tosses it on the pile of clothes at my feet, then grabs my hand and pulls me into her bedroom.
I don’t even have time to wonder what just happened, much less formulate an actual question, before she’s dragging my pants down to my knees, her hand stroking my cock, her hot breath fanning over the head.
“Are you watching?” she asks, gazing up at me through heavy-lidded eyes. “You ready?”
“Take your tits out.” It comes out as a command instead of a request, and with the way she’s been acting today, I’m not sure if she’ll do it, or if she’ll put on a parka just to be contrary.
But she does what I ask, pulling them out to sit on top of the cups, propped up like an offering for me, creamy and round and tipped with those perfect pink nipples. Maybe she’s in as much of a rush as I am. Maybe she just didn’t want to relinquish her hold on my dick yet. Whatever her reason for doing that rather than just taking off her bra, I don’t fucking care. This chick is absolutely perfect.
