Page 80 of Hot Shot
With a shake of my head, I grab his, slip it on, and make my way outside, where I spot Madison chatting with Jenna and a couple of the other women in the corner.
“Hi, sweets.” I slip my arm around her waist.
She leans into me, tipping her head up. “That’s not your mask.”
“Yeah. I know. I think Brody grabbed mine. I didn’t have time to find him.”
Someone starts counting down from ten. The countdown hits one and everyone yells Happy New Year.
“Happy New Year, sweets.” I spin her around and kiss her. She wraps her arms around my neck and swipes her tongue across my lips, deepening the kiss. I groan quietly. With only a kiss, she’s ignited the fire in me. I want to do more to her, but we’re in public and I can’t. I pull back.
“Happy New Year, hot shot. Let’s go home,” she whispers, grabbing my hand. Yes, please.
We make our way around the backyard stopping to say a few Happy New Years and goodbyes as we head to the door.
“Are you okay to drive?” Madison asks as we walk toward my truck.
“Yeah, I only had two beers. You okay?” I ask, helping her in.
“I didn’t drink much either,” she answers.
I make my way around to the driver’s side. “Anything in particular you want to do when we get back to my place?” I ask as I pull away from the curb.
“Hmmmm,” Madison hums, laying her hand on my thigh. “I can think of a few things I’d like to do.”
She traces her fingers up my thigh until they’re hovering over my hardening cock. Taking one hand off the steering wheel, I place it over hers and bring both of our hands down on top of my bulging cock. She moans and it makes me instantly harder.
“Fuck, sweets,” I husk out.
“Yes. That. Fuck me when we get home. Please.”
I glance over at her, but the darkness makes it hard to see anything. “Are you all wet for me?”
“Yes,” Madison says shifting in her seat. “So wet.”
“Prove it,” I growl.
This might be a bad idea, but I can’t help myself. Thankfully, the drive from Caleb’s is short and there’s no traffic, so I won’t have to wait long to get my hands all over her.
“What?”
“Prove how wet you are for me, sweets. Touch yourself.”
“Right now? In the truck?” Madison’s voice is breathy.
“Yes. It’s dark. No one will see. Slip your fingers under that dress of yours, push your panties aside, and touch that pretty pussy of yours.”
She doesn’t respond but I hear the rustle of fabric.
“Hunter,” she whimpers, her hand running up and down my cock, which is straining to get out and feel her soft hands, her lips, her wet pussy.
“Are you touching yourself?” I shift in my seat and push my foot down a little bit farther on the gas pedal. “How wet are you?”
“Wet, so wet,” Madison pants.
“Don’t come yet. Your first orgasm of the new year will be from my fingers, cock, or tongue, not your hands. You can touch yourself, but you better not come.”
“I’m so close.”
