Page 61 of Secret Husband
“Oh, I’m not worth the trouble either, Silver Eyes.”
We were so close, the flirtatious manner of our conversation heating me from the inside out. My cock had stirred to action long ago; now it grew thick, heavy, eager.
I like this girl. I like her a lot. And that is not good.
Yet I could not move away.
“So what do you do next with these girls?”
“I touch their face or hair. Just something subtle to indicate my interest.”
Which I did because the vibe was moving in that direction toward some sort of inevitability. But I did more than that.
My lips touched hers. Just a brush, ready for rejection. But rejection did not come and oh my Christ, she moaned into my mouth and her taste … I would never forget how good she tasted as long as I lived.
She pulled back, her lips a little puffy, her silver eyes like slivers of moonlight.
“So that’s what it’s like,” she murmured.
“Yes.” I could barely get the word out, but her words confirmed that she had been thinking about it, too.
“Not sure what all the fuss is about.”
But then she smiled and I fell further than was safe. To a deep and dangerous place.
Now it was my turn to assume casualness. I needed to desperately grasp the reins here. “Perhaps I should try again, seeing as you do not impress so easily.”
“Perhaps you should.”
Instead, she kissed me, nudging my lips apart with her own. Those lips never stood a chance, and neither did I.
I couldn’t get enough of her.
A wild want overcame me. I palmed her ass and scooped her into my lap. I needed to be closer, chest to chest, mouth to mouth, her softness to my hardness. She ground her body against mine and that fueled me to a frenzy. Cupping her neck, I held her in place as my tongue explored her mouth, twined with hers, and?—
She pulled back. Blinked. “Someone’s here.” Barely giving me a chance to come to full awareness, she unhinged her body from mine and scampered to the other seat at the kitchen table. Then she threw a dishcloth at me with a gasped, “cover that up!”
My boner. I did as I was told, just as Jason walked in.
“Naz!” He shot a quick glance at Lauren, then back to me. “Everything okay?”
“Yes.” I cleared my throat. “I brought over the PlayStation and Lauren made me tea.”
“Cool. Thanks.”
“Thought you were staying over at Emily’s,” Lauren said, her voice a touch rusty.
“We had a fight. She told me I should switch from defense to offense. That forwards were sexier.” He leaned against the kitchen counter. “Can you believe that shit?”
“Perhaps she is right,” I said. “Forwards definitely score more. In all areas.”
“True,” Lauren agreed, which made me laugh.
“Fuck you, guys. I’m going to beat your ass at PlayStation. What games did you bring over?”
“Hockey Legends. It is filled with … forwards.”
Lauren cracked up. I slid a look to her, then back to Jason, who should have been eyeing us with suspicion but was too caught up in his personal drama to notice.
