I kiss her mouth soundly before telling her exactly what she needs to do next. “You need to take these pretty panties the fuck off.”
Instead of shimmying them down or even pushing them to the side, she leans back dramatically, testing the strength of this damn stool. It’s got an iron grip on the floor, thank god, so we don’t topple over.
“What’s wrong?” I ask, wondering what the hell happened in the last two seconds to make her coil back and wrinkle her nose up.
“I hate that word,” she says.
“What word? Fuck?” If so, I’m fucked. It’s kinda my favorite word, so I’m not sure why she’s waited this long to protest.
“No, the other word,” she says, shaking her head.
I quirk my brow. “Pant?—"
“Yes,” she says, the affirmation out of her mouth before I’m finished uttering the one she hates so much.
Okay…I can roll with this. “Point taken. Rewind. Take your fucking underwear— nope that does not work.” Now I’m the one shaking my head.
She shrugs, the movement lifting her generous tits half an inch closer to me. Goddamn. I’d swear they’re even fucking bigger than they were a few days ago, but that’s impossible. It’s gotta be her bra. I try to take a mental picture of it so I can buy her one in every color.
“There’s no good substitute,” she says, bringing me back to the crisis at hand. “Believe me, I’ve thought about it.”
It’s not that I don’t believe her, but I don’t back down froma challenge. My brain starts spewing every synonym it can think of. “Skivvies, intimates, underpinnings…undergarments,foundational— yep, you’re right… Wait.Undies?”
Her nose wrinkles again. “Yuck. That makes it sound like I’m a little kid.”
“Big nope onundiesthen,” I concede.
My phone is in the pocket of my sweats, so even the internet can’t help me know. All my braincells are working overtime. “Ooh,loincloth?”
“Absolutely not.”
“How aboutunmentionables?” I ask.
“In that case, let’s not mention them.”
“So…just to be clear, I can’t talk about your…underclothing? I can never tell you hot fucking hot you look in it? How your pussy gets so wet for me that I can see it soaking through the fabric?”
Her lips part. “Okay, you should definitely say all those things. But just don’t use any nouns when you do. Pronouns only.These,those,that.”
God, this woman. She does it for me in every way possible. “You are high-maintenance as hell, Maggie. But fucking worth it.”
When she rolls her eyes at me, something clicks in my brain. “I bet you were one of those people who could. not. fucking. deal with the word mois?—"
“Oh My God. Don’t say it,” she practically hisses.
Playing dumb, I tilt my head. “Say what? Moi?—"
When she lifts herself off my lap and begins to back down the stepstool, I’m afraid I’ve taken teasing her a step too far. But then she stops on the last step and leans forward bracing one hand on my thigh while the other tugs at my boxers until my cock juts out. The only warning I get is when she licks her lips. Half a second later, her mouth is on my dick and I’m testing the strength of this damn stool once again.Holyfuckinghell, I was expecting her to getdressed and leave me here, not take me deep. Her hand grips the base of my cock as she swallows as much of me as she can take. She’s licking and sucking, and her lips are fucking glistening right now. My hips thrust up before I can stop them, but she just grips me tighter, going as deep as she can. It’s goddamn intoxicating. I‘m drunk on the sounds she’s making and the way the wet heat of her mouth envelops me. Those perfect tits of hers are rubbing up against my thighs and I’m pretty sure I could come from just that visual alone. Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to conjure up something awful just to keep my orgasm at bay. My mind comes in clutch with a vision of Coach bursting through the door, campus security flanking him. Even that’s not enough. Dammit. Just when I think I can’t hold on any longer, Maggie’s full lips pop off my dick and she takes half a step away from me.
“Hear me now, JT Norris. Say that word and I’ll walk the hell out of here.” Her hand is back on her hip, and there’s no doubt she means business.
Right now, I’ll happily comply with any edict she issues. “Yes, ma?—"
“Not that word, either!” she practically shrieks. “I’m twenty-one. Do notma’amme.”
I must be completely fucked in the head because I love this side of her, this bossy, sassy woman who wants things just the way she fucking wants them. And no, I’m not going to think for even a second how that might be a family trait. Tipping her chin toward me, I offer a suggestion. “How about this, Maggie? I’m gonna fuck you here on this sturdy-ass stepstool in this romantic-as-hell storage closet. You may forget your name for a few minutes, but don’t worry, that’s totally normal. When you come back down to earth and can walk straight, you’re going to march that fine ass of yours out of here and make me a list of all the words I’m allowed to say. Does that work for you?”
She gives me a dubious look. “The ones you're allowed to say?”
