It’s time for me to do the smart thing and walk away.
Instead, I turn the knob and step inside.
And I don’t regret it.
JT’s got his shirt off and his pants unzipped. He’s sprawled out on a chair with his feet propped up on an end table. This weird little room he’s found is full of random furniture, most of it mismatched. I’m curious about how he found it, how he got in here, and how he got a phone past my uncle.
But all that curiosity fades away when he looks at me.
Trailing a hand down his abs, he reaches into his boxers and fists his cock. I may or may not moan in response.
“That. Fucking. Dress,” he says, his eyes raking over my body.
“You like it?” I tease, doing a little sashay on my way over to him.
He rests his free hand on my waist before running it over my hips. “I love it,” he rasps. “And I hate it. You look so damn good, Maggie. I want to devour you. Swallow you up. Taste every inch of you before sinking my cock back inside this sweet, hungry pussy.”
His words burn me up as my dress practically melts offmy body from his heated gaze alone. I’m tugging at the zipper when his hand covers mine and finishes the job. Slipping my arms out of the straps, I shimmy enough to push it past my hips and let it fall to the floor. I’m standing before JT in a lacy red thong and a strapless bra and it’s very possible he’s about to make good on his earlier promise and devour me whole.
His right hand roams my body while he strokes himself with his left, and a random thought occurs to me. “Are you ambidextrous?” I ask. His response is a low chuckle.
“I’m fucking incompetent if you’re asking about ambidexterity right now.”
“I’m serious,” I say. “It’s really rare, you know. Some studies estimate that fewer than one percent of the—” I lose my words as JT leans forward just enough to nip at my skin. His teeth graze the sensitive flesh right above the lacy edge of my thong. He licks and bites his way across my lower belly before moving down to the apex of my thighs. I swear my legs spread of their own volition, eager for his kisses.
“What was that?” he asks, looking up at me with innocent eyes. “Ten percent, you said?”
“One percent,” I correct. “And some of those are natural lefties who’ve—oh. Oh, god, do that again."
“Misquote you?”
“Drag your fingers across my—fuck.”
“Mmm,” he agrees. “I like it when I drag my fingers across yourfuck, too.”
He scoots forward and I’m sure he’s going to put his mouth on me. It seems to be his favorite thing to do, or maybe his second favorite. Instead, he stands up next to me and spins us so I’m facing the wall with my back to his front. His big body is covering mine as he keeps slowly stroking my lace-covered pussy.
I’m hungry and needy and getting wetter by the second.
“You sure as fuck are,” he tells me as I realize I must’ve said that part aloud.
“So, what are you going to do about it?” I ask. “If you really are ambidextrous, you could?—”
He cuts off my words, his actions taking over as he pulls me impossibly closer, his hard cock pressing against my ass as one hand pins my wrists against the wall and the other pushes the lace barrier aside and traces the seam of my sex.
“You good, Maggie?” he asks, his voice rough.
“Better than I’ve ever been,” I answer honestly.
“Good,” he replies, and though I can’t see his face from this position, I can almost hear him smile. “Because there’s a question I’ve been meaning to ask you.”
“Oh, yeah,” I pant, grinding back against him. “What’s that?”
His body cocooned around mine, he presses his lips close to my ear. “You ever get that vibrator fixed?”
His words send a rush of heat through my body, all of it headed straight to my core.
“No,” I say, “I don’t really think repair shops are a thing anymore. And if they are, I’m not sure they service, um…personal care devices.”
