Page 71 of Pucking Bad Boys

“Pizza is here.” He’s standing behind me, so close that I can feel his body heat when he covers my hand that’s holding the frame with his. “That’s one of my favorite photos of me and Becks. I was a high school senior then, and he was a junior. Things seemed easier between us back then.” He muses.

I put the frame down and he comes closer. He’s still behind me, my back now almost flush with his front.

“Are you hungry, or do you want to eat later?”

His lips are close; they’re touching the back of my ear. My body is trapped between him and the desk.

I have nowhere to go, but the truth is that there’s nowhere else I would rather be.

“Later.” I murmur, fighting to keep my voice from trembling.

“That’s what I was hoping you’d say.” He whispers.

Macklin moves my hair off my shoulder and presses a kiss on the spot right under my ear.

My body is tense, taut with need and a little anxiety. It’s not because I don’t trust him. I do. It’s just… what if I’m not pretty enough for him? Just the idea of being naked in front of him makes me want to run.

He’s the epitome of masculine strength, and he’s gorgeous. Perfect. I’m not.

“We have certain standards when it comes to the physical appearance of our dancers. And you don’t meet those standards.”

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Talia.” He whispers, as if he heard me freaking out in my own head. “So delicate and soft.”

His fingers follow the same trajectory as his lips. Down my neck and along my shoulder.

His touch is so gentle, his skin slightly rough in contrast with the buttery softness of his lips.

When he reaches the base of my neck, he grazes with his teeth. It’s soft and sensual, and I feel it everywhere in my body.

As he keeps kissing my shoulder, moving the straps of my top, his fingers trail down my arms. It’s a feather light touch, so so slow. Like he was trying to learn my shape inch by inch.

Once he reaches my fingers, he starts back up my arms and then down, tracing the sides of my chest.

He’s barely touching me and I’m ready to melt into a puddle of goo.

“You’re so perfect.” His hands are at my waist, then my stomach, trailing along the sliver of skin between the hem of my top and the waistband of my jeans.

“I’m not perfect.” The words escape of their own accord.

Macklin’s lips stop. “You’re wrong. You are perfect. Can you feel what you do to me? How hard you make me? And I haven’t even taken your clothes off.”

He ends his slow perusal of my body to press me tighter against him. He isn’t lying. He’s hard against my back.

Macklin

I’m about to lose my goddam mind.

I’ve been dreaming about this, to have Talia in my arms, for years.

And now that she’s here, I’m doing everything I can to not fuck it up.

My cock is already painfully hard, and it’s sending these powerful signals to my brain.

If I listened to my urges, I would spin her around, hoist her onto my desk and sink into her.

But I made her a promise; we have a deal.

“I’ve never had an orgasm. Not even close.”