Moaning, I lick into his mouth one last time, getting lost in the kiss before I pull away enough to drop my legs back down and push him toward the mattress. He stumbles back a bit, grinning at me all cocky. But I can see the way his chest is heaving, the way the muscles of his chest shift and move beneath his skin.
He wants this as badly as I do.
I reach down and grasp the hem of my tank top, and begin pulling it up over my head. The cool air against my overheated skin is delicious and I shiver a little as I shake my hair free and drop the shirt to the floor.
There’s a whimper, and I freeze.
That sound wasn’t from either of us.
I whirl around and find Bruiser just outside the door, staring at me with big eyes.
Ash lets out a laugh behind me, and I look over my shoulder and glare at him before turning back to the dog.
Bruiser’s tail wags back and forth, his doggie smile widening as he realizes he’s gotten my attention. His tail thumps against the wall beside the door, and he pulls himself up out of his seated position just as I smile down at him.
Then I reach over, grab the door and close it gently in his face.
Ash
I bark out a laugh as Bruiser lets out a tiny whimper of confusion on the other side of the door, and turn to Star, raising my eyebrows.
“What?” she says, leaning back against the door, all long limbs and glistening skin. “I’m not letting your dog watch us, you perv.”
“Hey,” I say, and take a step toward her. I want to touch that skin, run my hands all over it. It’s irresistible. “I’ll have you know that Bruiser is a gentleman and a scholar. He would never—” But Star cuts me off before I can finish bullshitting.
“I caught him trying to hump the blow-up Santa in the backyard yesterday,” she says. She’s rolling her eyes but she’s still reaching for me as I get closer. The second my hands touch her skin, rub against it, she seems to almost melt. I press my lips against her throat and her fingers tangle in my hair, pulling at it. God. Damn. This feels good. But it’s Star, and like hell I’m going to give up a chance to bullshit with her.
“I have no idea what you’re talking about,” I say, kissing my way up her neck, lingering at her jaw. “Bruiser would never do such a thing.”
She tugs harder on my hair, hard enough that I pull back to look at her. She’s smirking at me. “I also caught him humping the stuffed frog you threw out on Tuesday. Your argument is invalid. Now take off your pants.”
Okay. Maybe I’ll let the bullshitting go. Just this once.
I reach for my belt. “Aye, aye, Cap’n.”
“Wait,” she says, and suddenly my hands aren’t alone, they’re tangled with hers, and her sweet mouth is pressing against my throat. “Let me help.”
I groan and let my head fall back. Fuck. This girl is going to be the death of me. My belt loosens and my jeans drop to the floor next to her shirt. I tilt my head forward and catch her mouth with mine again, tangling my tongue with hers as I reach up and slide my fingers into her hair. It’s thick and silky and it twists between my fingers, almost like it has a mind of its own, like it’s drawing me in. And goddamn, she tastes good. Like the lemonade she was drinking with dinner, and the spearmint gum she chews until it seems like her jaw will crack from it. And something that’s just Star and Star alone. I’ve never tasted anything like it. I’ve always been shit with words, but I’m pretty sure this is what intoxicating means.
It’s rivaling every high I’ve ever fucking had.
Goddamn.
My cock is hard enough to pound nails, and I know she can feel it, the way she’s rubbing her belly against it. I just want to reach down and pick her up, toss her on the mattress behind me and fall down there after her. But she’s two steps ahead of me, and I’ve just barely felt the brush of the mattress against the back of my ankle when I’m suddenly horizontal and she’s standing over me, looking gorgeous and goddamn triumphant.
Jesus.
“So,” she says, reaching down and popping open the button of her cutoffs. I want to chase her fingertips with my teeth, but she seems to be enjoying putting on a show for me, so I lean back on my elbows and watch instead. Her hips wiggle a little as she tugs down her shorts. They slide down her legs like magic and I can’t help but fucking groan at the sight. She’s in her bikini top, her little nipples sticking through like hard candies, and she’s wearing these little panties that look like undies that I wore when I was little, all blue and white with stitching made to look like the front flap. They’re riding low on her hips and look so hot on her I could bust. “Any preferences?”
I raise an eyebrow at her. “That’s a loaded question,” I say and she laughs, taking a step and moving forward until she’s got one knee on the mattress, directly between my damn thighs.
Yeah, I’m definitely going to bust. But if I’m lucky, I’m going to make her bust first. I’m reaching for her before I can even decide where to touch, flat on my back, wrapping my hands around her face and tugging her down so I can press my mouth against hers. She’s leaning over me now, her body pressing down against mine, and I can feel her pulse hammering as I slide my hand up her neck. Goddamn. If this is what sober sex is like, I just found another reason not to touch a drop ever again. My hands are in her hair again, and she’s kissing and rubbing up against me like her life depends on it. That’s when my fingers touch the little bow at the back of her neck.
The bikini top.
I grin against her mouth and start working the knot apart with my fingertips. It loosens way easier than I was expecting, and the strings fall from her shoulders without me even having to touch them. I want to touch, though, so I slide my hands down her neck, down her shoulders, until I have my arms wrapped around her. I want to see her. I want to see every single inch of her, but I suddenly feel like it’s a choice between holding onto her or dying, and I can’t make myself stop touching enough to pull back to look.
She’s a million miles ahead of me again, and her other knee shifts so it’s pressing into the mattress at my side, and she’s clutching at my shoulders, pulling me with her as she rolls over.
Suddenly I’m on top of her, pressing down into her hot little body, and somehow that feels better. Like if I pull away she won’t disappear on me. Like she wants me there, on top of her. And I’ll be damned if I’m not willing to give this girl whatever she wants.
Getting my knees under me, I pull back, smiling as she leans into me, chasing the kiss, and look down.
God. Damn.
Her tits are amazing. I’m leaning down and pressing my mouth to them before I can even think. By the way Star moans and arches into me, she has no problem with my actions. She presses closer to me, and I lap at her breast and suck the tip into my mouth as I reach around her body to tug at the knot at her back. I can feel it come loose, feel her bikini fall away, but she’s moaning and writhing, her fingers pulling at my hair as I suck at her, and I’m so hard I’m dripping through my boxers.
I’m going to die from this.
But goddamn, what a way to go.
Star
We kiss, chest to chest, and it feels like too much and not enough, all at the same time. I run my hands over his shoulders, cup my palms over the back of his neck, thread my fingers up through his hair. I want to touch everywhere. And all at once.
I’m torn between touching forever and rushing full force to the main event, and I press against him as we kiss and kiss and kiss until I can’t stand it anymore. I press my palms against his chest, reveling in the warmth of his skin against mine, and push him away.