“Ten months and you still think I’m the only one that’s easy,” I answered.
Her hands slid under my hoodie, fingers tracing my stomach, my ribs. “My baby is ripped. You could be a problem.
I scoffed. “Iama problem.”
“Youmyproblem,” she said.
That did something to me. It still got me, that word.My. I kissed her again, slower this time. I let myself feel it. The way her soft body fit on mine. The way she relaxed into me like she trusted me not to drop her.
What we did shouldn’t even be called undressing. Hoodie and pants gone. Her apron untied. Her dress tugged over her hips. That thick, curvy body I dreamed about almost every night right here in my hands, wrapped in black lace and stockings.
“Turn off the lamp. I’m fine as hell in the moonlight,” she murmured.
Ain’t nothing like that ass jiggling in the moonlight, I wanted to tell her. “Demanding,” I said instead.
She kissed my jaw. “You like it.”
She was right.
I hit the switch. Moonlight slid in through the big office windows, shimmery over her brown skin. The hill was quiet outside. Town lights twinkled in the distance. In here, all I sawwas her. She pushed me back on the couch and knelt between my legs. My baby didn’t come to play. She swallowed me as soon as she got down there, moaning, “Mm,” like she loved the taste of me. The vibrations had me throwing my head back, my hand twisting in her long hair.
Kyleigh’s tongue was a thing of beauty as it swirled all over me, dipping into the slit at the top, laving the vein just below the head, licking down my length. Wet and warm, her mouth pulled me into heaven, and I was happy to go. Her head bobbed up and down as she worked to take more and more of me, her hand working its own rhythm at my base.
She hummed and slurped and spit and swallowed until I was barely conscious. My hand guided her head, the sensuous glide almost more than I could take.
“Look at me,” I gritted out.
She did. She was starting to look messy, ruined in the best way. Her eyeliner and mascara out of place as her eyes watered from the generous access she allowed me to her throat, her lipstick smudged, the lower half of her face wet from the lubrication she provided. Her cheeks hollowed as she sucked me and obediently watched me. This was the only time she could be described as anything close to obedient; I liked it.
“You so pretty like this,” I breathed. “Fuck, Kyleigh. You?—"
The telltale tingling in my balls and heat coiling in my belly and back had me pulling her gently, a demand that she get up. She did, climbing beside me on the couch as I panted for air. She swung her leg fully over, straddling me. Her hands braced on my chest. Her eyes met mine, half-lidded and sure.
“You good?” I asked.
She nodded. “I’m perfect.”
She was. I could agree with that. And then I learned that my new favorite thing in the whole world was crotchless panties as my baby held me in position and slowly, an inch at a time, itfelt like, slid that tight, juicy pussy down on me. It greeted me eagerly, pulling me in as she descended, welcoming my insistent invasion. I let her set the pace. She moved slow at first, testing her balance. Testing us. Then confidence kicked in and my brain left my body.
She rode me like it was something she’d been planning all day. Hands on my chest. Head tipped back, locks swinging down her back. The little maid apron was long gone, but the attitude stayed.
I grabbed her chin, wanting her to look at me while I was so deep inside her. She did, her eyes dark and soft and bright all at once. I put my hands on her hips, helping her move, palms full of everything I was never getting tired of. Every shift, every slide, every roll of her body screamed was mine and always would be.
I thought about the girl she’d been in Mrs. Amanda’s kitchen. Smart mouth, shy smile. I thought about the years we lost. The nights she cried alone in Houston. The missions where I tried to forget her and just ended up missing her even more.
Then I thought about right now.
Ouroffice.Ourhill.Ourlife.
Her breath caught. I felt her start to shake, felt her nails dig into my shoulders. I held on and let go right with her. We stayed there, breathing hard in the half-dark, holding on to each other. Eventually, she collapsed against my chest with a satisfied little sigh. I wrapped my arms around her and kissed her forehead.
“You tryna kill me before Thanksgiving,” I muttered.
“Shut up. You alive,” she mumbled back.
“Barely.”
Her laugh was sleepy now. She tucked her face into my neck, warm and soft and smelling like cocoa butter and that stolen candy. I could feel her easing down, sliding into that afterglow nap she’d pretend she never took.
