Page 67 of Hot Shot
“Mmmm.”
“Come on, sweets.” I nudge her gently and she finally opens her eyes, blinking up at me.
“Hi,” she whispers, a blush coloring her cheeks and moving down her chest. She wraps her arms around herself as she sits up.
Why is she embarrassed? I tilt my head, studying her, but she won’t meet my gaze.
“None of that now.” I move closer, capturing her lips with mine. What starts off as a sweet, chaste kiss turns heated quickly.
Pulling back, I reach a hand up, tucking a strand of her hair behind her ear. “No embarrassment. Not with me.”
“Okay,” she says, but I don’t believe it, not based on the way she scurries off the bed, grabs her robe, and makes her way to the bathroom, shutting the door behind her.
But I let it go.
I won’t push her.
Instead, I stand and snag my shirt from the ground. Madison comes out of the bathroom after a few minutes with her hair in some sort of fancy braid, her face still glowing from her orgasm.
I sit on the edge of the bed as she goes over to her closet.
“Are you wearing those jeans?” she asks, her back to me.
“Yeah. Is this not alright?” Shit, maybe this is a formal dinner. I didn’t even think about asking. I hope not because I sure as hell didn’t pack anything fancy.
She snags a dress from a hanger and pulls it over her head. “No, it’s fine. I want us to be comfortable. Hence the stretchy dress.” She tugs at the material to show how much it stretches.
“Sweets. I think you’re forgetting something,” I all but growl.
Fuck me, is she not going to wear a bra or underwear?
She shrugs. “It’s got a built-in bra. I go without a bra in this dress all the time.”
Scrubbing a hand over my face, I groan. She chuckles. I snag her around the waist when she tries to walk by me. “Are you really wearing that dress because it’s comfortable, or is it for some other reason? Are you teasing me?”
“Maybe.” She leans over to kiss me. It starts out gentle and sweet but quickly turns to fire. I growl, pull her closer, and run my hands up under her dress, then give her ass a squeeze before swiping a finger through her wet center.
“You’re going to make us late.” I tear my lips away from her and remove my hands from under her dress.
“I’m sure Judy and Curtis won’t mind. Actually, they might be busy themselves.” Madison chuckles.
“Nope. Don’t put that thought in my mind. I have to look both of them in the eyes in a few minutes. I don’t need to picture them being . . . busy.” I grimace.
Yes, they’re old, not dead, and I’m sure they both have sex lives, but I don’t want to think or know about it or have the image of it in my head all day.
“You’re sticking with jeans?” Madison asks again, stepping out of my hold.
“My only other option is my gray sweatpants. So yeah, sticking to the jeans.”
There’s no way in hell I am going to sit at lunch in gray sweatpants sporting half a hard-on, which I know without a doubt I’ll be dealing with all afternoon, thinking about Madison naked under her dress.
Naked and waiting for me.
She nods and puts out her hand. I stand and let her lead us out of her apartment and to her aunt’s kitchen door.
“Shit, I’m so full,” I mumble a few hours later as we make our way across the lawn to Madison’s apartment.
“Why did I eat that much?” she groans, rubbing her hand over her stomach as we stumble through the door.
