I step toward her, and she does the same, the motion bringing our bodies together once again. The song changes to another sexy tune, but we’re too busy getting lost in the rhythm to notice that someone else is crooning the lyrics. I spin Claire again so that her back is to my front. She seems to like when I hold her this way and I fucking love it. Our feet are still moving in time with the song and the hand I’ve got on her waist drifts a little farther down.
“Where’d you learn moves like this?” she asks, swayingher hips to the beat and rubbing her ass on my dick in the process.
I growl in response because I feel fucking feral when her body is this close to mine and I’m tempted to ask her if she wants to go upstairs. But she asked a legitimate question, so she deserves an honest answer.
“You know my mom loves music. She had me in piano lessons when I was four. I sucked. Same with the tuba, the cello, and the trumpet. Leo’s every bit as bad as I am, but Henry’s got Ma’s love of music and her talent. He plays a bunch of instruments, but the guitar is his most recent obsession. To compensate for our lack of musical talent, Ma signed Leo and me up for ballroom dance classes. We were always the biggest guys and the youngest ones, but it was fun, and moving my body to the music made a lot more sense than actually making music.”
“Those lessons paid off,” she tells me.
“You like dancing with me?” I ask, spinning her a final time so she’s back in my arms and facing me.
“I like doing lots of things with you, Pete,” Claire says, and that’s when I forget about the music. My hands are gliding up and down her body, exploring and remembering, despite the barrier of her clothes. She’s grinding against me, her lips dropping kisses along my jaw, neck, and collarbone. When she tugs at the collar of my shirt for better access, my brain blasts a warning signal.
“We’re not following the rules,” I say when my mouth isn’t occupied with her lips.
Claire looks up at me, her cheeks flushed, her hair mussed. “We never made any rules,” she reminds me.
Damn. She’s right, and her words make me want to lose control, to give into this fire between us. I’m right on the edge, but I need her to be sure.
My hands rest on her hips. “If we do this, the lines are gonna blur.”
“Let them.” Gripping my shoulders, she rocks up into me once, and then again. The second time, she stills over the bulge in my shorts as it twitches and begs for release.
It’s fucking torture to peel my body away from hers, but it’s a necessary evil. “Come with me?” I ask, taking her hand and leading her to the stairs at the back of the house.
“If things go the way I want them to, then yeah, I’ll be coming with you.”
Her teasing words have me taking the steps two at a time and she follows effortlessly. “Do you have any idea how fucking sexy you are?” I ask as we reach the landing.
“If I say no, will you show me?” Her words aren’t strategic or coy. Claire might tempt the shit out of me, but she’s no calculating vixen.
My answer is simple. “I’ve been dreaming about showing you all the ways you turn me
on and turn me inside out. Mine’s the second door on the left.”
I don’t bother giving her a tour of the room that’s been mine since we moved here back when I was in high school. She doesn’t ask about the trophies on my shelves or the pictures on the wall. I toe off my shoes and lie on my bed, making space for Claire to join me. Instead of lying down next to me, she leans over the bed and fists her hands in the hem of my shirt.
“Why are you always wearing clothes?” she huffs. “It’s your most annoying habit, I swear.”
I like this playful side of Claire, but I’d much rather see her naked body than mine, so I reach for the hem of her sweatshirt and pull upward. She lifts her hands, and I watch in awe as every delectable inch of skin is revealed. Her bra goes next, then she shimmies out of her leggings.When she crawls into bed, the only thing she’s wearing is a black lace thong.
“Fuck me,” the words fall from my lips before I can catch them, but Claire takes my words to heart.
“I can’t wait,” she pants, reaching down to stroke my erection through the thin silky material of my basketball shorts. My lips find hers as my hips thrust forward, desperate for contact. When she leans back, licks her lips and pulls at my shorts, I’m powerless to resist.
I know just what to do to make her feel good. Rolling to my back, I pat my chest and look at Claire. “Hop up,” I tell her, loving that she doesn’t hesitate to bracket my shoulders with her thighs. We’re facing opposite directions and that’s perfect for what I have in mind. My hands cup her ass and shift her into position.
“I want to devour this pussy. I’m gonna fuck it with my tongue. I’m gonna lick you so damn good that you come all over my face and I taste you for days. How does that sound?”
Claire’s only reply is to sit fully on my face while slipping her hand into the waistband of my shorts. With every stroke, I picture what she looks like when she falls apart, and that just makes me desperate for relief—hers and my own.
When she bends forward and takes my cock into her mouth and all bets are fucking canceled. Soon, I’m bucking up into her, pumping my hips as I lick the sweet folds of her pussy.
I feel her grip my base as her lips swirl around the tip of my dick.Goddamn. Every time I see her suck on a straw I’m going to think about this moment. Before long, they’ll have to ban me from Drip for public indecency.
I watch as she lifts her head and I’m so damn tempted to pull her ponytail, but I shove that primal urge back tothe depths of my caveman brain and settle for toying with the strands of her hair.
“Your mouth,” she says on a breath. “It feels so damn good.”
