Page 22 of Late to Love

“Which one?”

“With the locs,” she clarifies. “Looks like he played offensive line.”

I dart a glance. He’s the most interesting of the bunch, come to think of it. The sun glints off his dark skin, and the flirty smile he throws our way is cute. “As you wish,” I say, reaching for the tube. “We going for the back first?”

She takes it from me. “Are you kidding? You’re going to pretend to read while I rub it on my tits.”

Laughing, I grab my book and resettle on the towel, preparing for the show Amanda’s about to give them.

It works. Like a damn charm. And when the very guy she’d been targeting makes his way to us, eyes locked appreciatively on Amanda as he approaches, I can’t help the little bit of jealousy at how easy she makes it. I’m never that uncomplicated. I never will be, though, and I guess there’s nothing to do about that but lean into it.

Chapter10

Anthony

IWAKE IN a sweat, chest heaving, dick straining.This is ridiculous. Yet another dream about Darcy. I was about to feel the dream version of what it would be like to sink into her, to hear her moan, to bury my face in her neck.

Throwing the covers off, I stalk to the bathroom and start a shower. Tempting though it is to turn on the cold and steep myself in it until my body gets the fuck under control, I do the opposite: hot. Hot as I can take it.

Ignoring my dick, which is still very much at attention thanks to the dream I was having, I lather up and wash, then rinse.

I should get out.

I should get off.

I’m not going to be able to focus if I don’t do something about this. So, fuck it. Bracing one hand against the black and white tile, I take my aching cock in the other. The relief is instant, my eyes rolling back in my head as I think about Darcy. Her tits, way more than a handful, and the view I got on that call when she was at the beach…Her ice-blue eyes, challenging me, darkening with want when she thinks I’m not looking. That fuckingmouth. What would it look like to fuck those red lips, to see her eyes water as I thrust into her mouth.

Fuck.

I grip harder, already close to the edge. Imagining her on her hands and knees, looking at me over her shoulder as I rubbed my hands over her perfect ass, hearing her beg for my cock. Making her beg more, before finally letting myself push into her tight pussy?—

“Fuck! Fuck fuck fuck,” I groan, spilling over my hand as I rest my forehead against the tile, not satisfied in the slightest but hoping I can at least focus.

I throw the water to cold, enduring it for all of two seconds before turning it off and stepping out. I make quick work of the rest, teeth, pits, contacts, then wrap the towel around my waist to step out.

Right into Darcy.

Who, judging by the wide eyes and flushed cheeks, might have heard me in there.

“Darcy.”

In a blink, she’s back to her usual self. “When are you going to learn to bring clothes to the bathroom, Mr. Hall?”

Fuck me if that doesn’t sound better than ever coming out of her pert little mouth. “When areyougoing to learn to stop barging into my house without so much as knocking?”

She steps forward, crowding me with her watermelon-cherry scent. All I see are those glossy red lips and blue eyes, blinking up at me with ferocious indignation. “I knocked. You were too busy getting yourself off to hear me.”

“You little brat.” The words are out of my mouth before I can bite them back.

She raises a perfect eyebrow. “Tell me I’m wrong.”

Fine. She wants to play? I close the space between us, noting with some satisfaction that she doesn’t relent.Good girl.She inhales, her insane tits hitting my lower chest as she does. “No, Darcy. You weren’t wrong.”

Her lips tilt into a grin.

But I’m not done. It takes everything I have not to touch her as I say the next part. “And do you want to know who I was thinking of?”

She blinks.

---