Page 65 of Elite Player
My new favorite flavor.
Her breath hitches and her skin pebbles, but my good girl keeps quiet, so I use my fingers to open her up, slide inside her slick heat while I swirl my tongue around her clit. The material of her dress is soft enough that I can easily tug the neckline down to move her bra cup out of the way, gaining access to her breast, rubbing the stiff peak back and forth with my thumb, earning even more panting breaths.
When I crook my fingers, finding the swollen spot against her inner wall, she abandons the hem of her dress and digs her fingers into my hair as she places one of her legs over my shoulder, rolling her hips, making sure I’m using the right tempo and pressure for her.
Innocent little Jojo isn’t so innocent anymore.
Being debauched in a boutique dressing room.
“Nico,” she whispers, her muscles trembling, and I tilt my chin up to meet her wild-eyed gaze. “I’m going to come.”
With a twitch of my fingers and a flick of my tongue, she does. She shudders and squirms and drenches my fingers and tongue.
Delicious.
Beautiful.
Once Jo’s calm and steady on two feet again, I stand up, placing kisses along her jaw and temple. “So, you like this dress, then?”
She giggles drunkenly against my shoulder. “Yeah. I like this one.”
CHAPTER 19
NICO
This really is a nice drive.The weather is perfect, and the trees along the highway are shades of red and orange that I’ve only ever seen in paintings. With miles of open road in front of me and Jo in the passenger seat, it’s the best day I’ve had since…the last day I spent with Jo on my knees in the dressing room.
We’re crossing into the last leg of the road trip to her hometown, and I spent the entire plane ride home yesterday creating the playlist for today, including tons of John Denver. Which was all worth it because I got her to sing “Take Me Home, Country Roads” until we were both giggling like little kids.
I knew Jo was anxious about going home, and I wanted to make it as easy as possible on her. Her fear of flying puts a dent in my plan for Greece, but we’ll cross that bridge with Melatonin when we get there. First, I have to get her through this weekend unscathed.
Which shouldn’t be a problem after she gave me the details of her family tree, and we came up with a safe word for when she needed a quick escape: Gus. Though, the closer we get, the more I feel tension radiating off her. Not even my horrible jokes could earn a crack.
What do you call a bra you can’t take off? A booby trap.
What does a sign on an out-of-business brothel say? Beat it, we’re closed.
Why did the snowman smile? He could see the snow blower coming.
Eventually, I give up, place my hand on her knee, and let her do whatever she needs to do in her mind.
Forty-five minutes later, following a tour through the Appalachian Mountains, we arrive at the quaintest town I’ve ever seen in real life.
At the stop sign, I remove my sunglasses and roll down the window. “Are we in a Hallmark movie? Are you about to leave your big-city job for some farmer?”
“Isn’t that what you’re here for? To show what I’ll be missing out on if I choose him?”
If she chooses him?
As if that really is an option.
That she could leave me.
I mean…
Shecouldleave me. We aren’t even together. Not really.
That’s why I’m even here to begin with. Because she needed someone to pretend to be her fiancé to get the assholes in her family off her back.
