Ireallyliked the sound of that. On a whimper, I said, "I love it when you talk construction to me." As the words left my lips, I almost groaned out loud.
I hadn't meant to say that.
With a trembling laugh, I said, "That's really weird, isn't it?"
Sounding amused as hell, he replied, "Ask me in a minute."
"Why in a minute?"
"Because," he said, "I'm gonna yank down your panties, and press you up against that load-bearing wall, and show you just how much pressure it can take."
I whimpered, "Oh, God."
Sometime within the last minute or so, my hands had slid down to his naked ass. I gripped it tight, and savored the perfect shape of it. If I'd thought itlookedgood, the feel of it was even better.
Now, I couldn’t help but wonder how the muscles in his ass would feel against my palms as he pounded against me – not like a hammer to a nail, but flesh to flesh.
His hardness. My softness.
Together at last.
Beyond eager now, I slid my right hand between us and reached for his massive erection. When my hands closed around the base of it, Brody gave a muffled moan against my neck. "You're nothing but trouble. You know that, right?"
"Me?" I laughed. "You're ten times the trouble I am."
"We'll see."
And with that, he released my nipple and trailed his fingers lower, easing them past my navel and then lower still. When his fingers reached the intersection of my thighs, I parted them as much as I could in the narrow space and gave a soft moan when his fingers grazed that special spot.
When he rubbed the hardened, aching knob through the thin fabric of my panties, I gave another whimper. He knew exactly where to go, and what to do – almost like he knew my body even better than I did.
If I'd thought he'd played my nipple perfectly, it was nothing compared to what he did with my clit.
Into my ear, he said, "And that wall behind you?"
Breathlessly, I said, "Yeah?"
"Like I said, it's a full load-bearing wall, which means…" His teeth grazed my earlobe as he whispered, "it'll hold no matter what I do to you."
And just like that, I was whimpering again. "Oh, wow."
"No kidding," he said, giving me the most delicious stroke against my panties before shoving aside the lacy fabric and slipping one and then two fingers into my slick opening.
Sounding just as excited asIfelt, he murmured against my skin, "You're so fucking wet."
"I know."
Slowly, he pulled back and gave me a long, lingering look, raking me from head to toe. From the warmth in his eyes, he liked what he saw.
I liked what I saw, too. The warm water was cascading down his perfect body, making it glisten and shine even in the relatively low light. His muscles were taut, and his chest was chiseled. His abs glistened in all their glory, defined not only by his fine physique, but by the water sliding down all those wonderful dips and ridges.
I was still gripping his length, stroking and squeezing, loving the way it pulsed against my fingers. And he was still stroking me to distraction. Suddenly, it was almost too much—the look of him, the feel of him, the sensation of him, and even the gleam in his eye as he confessed, "I've been thinking of this for days."
I swallowed. "Really?"
With a slow nod, he said, "Oh, yeah."
Now, itwastoo much. My stomach clenched, and the walls of my wetness convulsed around his fingers. On a ragged whimper, I somehow managed to say, "Maybe we should find a bed or something."
