Page 70 of Mud, Love, and Chemistry

The thoughts burst to life before I can stop them. How is this going to work? Are we going to have sex first? Or should we work on the presentation beforehand? That is the main reason I’m going to his apartment in the first place. If we do the presentation first, though, I’ll have all that time to think things over and change my mind. But if we have sex first, will that make the presentation stuff awkward? Will we work on it while we’re naked?

Shaking the thoughts from my mind, I let out a groan.

Why didn’t we talk about how this would work beforehand? I mean, I should have asked questions so I would have all the information upfront. That would have made this decision easier to make. At least, I think it would have.

“Get a grip, Brynn,” I mumble to myself before I push the crosswalk button. My toes tap the pavement as I watch for the light to turn. The little stick figure lights up, guiding me across the intersection.

Maybe that’s what I should do. I should let Sam guide me. This was his idea, after all, and he should be the one to tell me what to do, but what if he doesn’t know either?

A frustrated sigh escapes me as I climb his apartment stairs. Fuck it. I’m taking the reins on this. We’re going to have sex first to get it out of our systems, and then we’ll work on the presentation. That way I can’t talk myself out of it.

With a reaffirming nod, I knock on his door.

When he opens it, he has a cavalier air about him. “Glad to see you didn’t think about it too hard.”

“I’m not inside yet,” I say in challenge.

He takes a step back and bows, motioning for me to enter. Before he gets the door shut, I’m already stripping off my sweatshirt and tank top. My hands are tangled in my shirts above my head when Sam turns around.

“Oh,” he says, almost choking on the syllable.

“What?” My eyes follow his as they flick up to my hands, then down to my lacy camisole tank top.

He juts his chin at my torso. “That’s nice.”

I drop my arms, covering myself with my inside out garments. “Well, I wasn’t sure how this was going to work. I mean, I figured we should, uh, you know, first so I don’t have time to overthink things, but if you?”

Sam takes one big step, closing the gap between us, and plants his fingers on my lips. “Shh,” he whispers. “Brynn, I’ll absolutely get naked with you right away. Just…stop talking.”

I smile behind his hand, and he lowers it. “Then kiss me already.”

His mouth is on mine within the next breath as he grabs the back of my head and tears my sweatshirt from my arms. Spinning our bodies, he pushes me against the back of the couch. His hands are all over me, hungry for the touch as they devour my body from my hips to my waist to my ribs and around to my back, driving moans from my chest that are just as starved.

I run my fingertips along the hem of his shirt, tugging on it. He grunts and lifts his arms, allowing me to slide it off. My knuckles brush against his warm skin, and I’m set ablaze. I grab his shoulders, pulling him to me so our chests collide, and roll my hips against his.

He reaches down, sliding his hands under my thighs, and lifts me to sit on the back of the couch. Stepping forward, he settles himself between my legs.

I hook my ankles behind him. I want him as close as possible, and I don’t want him leaving.

His hands slide up and down my back as he peppers kisses along my jaw and down my throat, nuzzling into the crook of my neck. When I twist a hand into his hair, he groans. He grips me tight as if bracing me, and runs a hand up my ribs to cup my breast. Palming my hardened nipple through the lace, he nips at my collarbone.

“Sam,” I breathe.

“What do you want, Brynn?”

“You,” I whisper.

He moans against my skin, the vibrations giving me goosebumps. “Tell me what to do.”

Yes, sir. “Fuck me, Sam.”

A deep growl emanates from him as he lifts me from the couch and carries me to the only room in the apartment I haven’t seen; his bedroom. He sets me on the bed and crawls over me, my body immediately warming beneath him. His mouth latches onto my throat as he unbuttons my jeans which I promptly shimmy out of. When his fingers brush over the matching lace panties, he pauses his sucking on my neck and pulls back to scan my form as if admiring a work of art.

I squirm in the awkward moment, but when he turns and locks his eyes onto mine, I melt. The sincerity in them eases all my tension, but the fire in them builds desire within me. I grip his shoulder and pull him onto me. I want to be crushed by his weight. I need it.

He works his knee between my legs, pulling one of mine up and around his waist. His hips lower to meet mine, and his delicious hardness presses against my apex.

With a moan, I arch my back, my head flopping to the side.

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