Page 30 of Puck Sweat Love

“Tank...” My name is a plea as her hands dive beneath my shirt, her nails raking down my back as she lifts her hips, pressing against me in silent invitation. My fingers trail downher belly to the waistband of her leggings, pausing just long enough to meet her gaze.

Her pupils are blown wide, cheeks flushed, lips swollen.

“Is this okay?” I ask, my voice shaking a little.

She nods, breathless. “Yes. Please.”

I slip my hand beneath the elastic, my heart nearly stopping when I find her bare—no panties, just soft, slick skin that’s already so fucking ready for me. The discovery makes me groan and my already aching balls drag heavy between my legs.

“Jesus, Stephanie...”

Her head falls back, exposing the long line of her throat as I circle her clit with slow, teasing strokes. She whimpers, her hips bucking against my hand, and I swear I’ve never seen anything sexier in my life. I dip one finger inside her, then another, stretching her, feeling her heat clench around me.

“Beautiful,” I murmur. “You’re beautiful, Teach. So fucking sexy.”

Her eyes flutter open, locking with mine. The connection is electric—so raw, so intimate, it leaves me breathless. I hold her gaze, letting her stare straight into my soul as I work her with steady, practiced strokes, loving the way she’s unraveling beneath me.

Every gasp, every moan, every tremble burns itself into my memory.

“Tank, oh God,” she whispers, clinging to my biceps. “I’m almost… I’m so close…”

“I’ve got you,” I promise, pressing my thumb against her clit in perfect rhythm with my fingers. “Let go. Come for me, beautiful.”

Her body arches, a broken cry spilling from her lips as she shatters beneath me. I watch her fall apart, riding out every wave of pleasure as her nails bite into my skin and her slick heat pulses around my fingers.

I don’t stop—can’tstop—until she’s panting in my arms, her breath coming in uneven hitches as she recovers. Finally, I ease my hand away, wrapping her up in my arms as she rests her head on my chest.

“Love watching you come,” I murmur into her hair, pressing a kiss to her temple. “Really fucking love it.”

She sighs, her body melting into mine. “Oh man… Me, too.”

I smile, already thinking of all the ways I plan to make her come again. But before I can drag her yoga pants down her legs and show her I’m even better with my tongue than I am with my fingers, a sharp knock sounds at the studio door.

“Hello?” a feminine voice calls. “Hello! Stephanie! I saw your car outside. Are you still here?”

We freeze, our eyes meeting in mutual panic.

“Shit,” Steph whispers, scrambling to disentangle herself from me. “It’s Hattie. She left her sweater here this morning. She must be back to get it.”

“Who wears a sweater in August?” I hiss back.

“I don’t know,” she says, running nervous hands over her body as she stands. “Do I look like I was just being a sexual deviant with a student?”

“No, you’re fine.” I stand beside her, quickly adjusting my shirt to hide the erection tenting my pants. “But I’ll um… I’ll stay here.”

She nods, exhaling a sound that’s half laugh, half mortified rush of breath. “Right. Good idea,” she says before calling in a louder voice, “Just a second, Hattie! Be right there.”

I watch as she hurries out of the studio.

A beat later, I hear her open the door.

“Hattie!” she says, her voice bright and just the slightest bit strained. “What’s up? Here for your sweater?”

“Yes, I’m so sorry to bother you, dear,” comes the older woman’s voice. “I just knew if I didn’t get it now, I wouldforget. My mind’s a sieve these days. I hope I’m not interrupting anything.”

“No, you’re good,” Stephanie says. “I just finished a private session. Let me go grab that for you from the lost and found.”

“Oh, I can come with you,” Hattie says. “It’s no problem.”

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