Page 8 of Time Out

“Next time.”

I was still staring at his chest, but my gaze rose as he said it. “There’s more?”

I lifted a hand as his chest was exposed, pushed it beneath his opened shirt as he released the final button and took in the delicious view. His oh-so glorious six-pack and a thin trail of light brown hair that dipped beneath his waistband against a beautiful, tight and toned tan skin.

“If you’re up for it.”

“Let’s see how good round one is first.” My fingers went to his belt. I opened the clasp, but instead of going to the button of his pants, I slipped my fingers between his waistband and yanked him toward me.

He fell forward to me with a surprised gasp and a smile that lit up his carved cheekbones. One hand settled next to my shoulder, the other on the cushion. “It’s going to be great, Snickers.”

“Snickers?”

“Mm-hmm.” His lips brushed over mine, back against my jawline. “My favorite fun-sized treat.”

He silenced my laugh with a kiss, and his hands went to my shirt. “Need this off. Been wanting to touch you ever since you walked into Lou’s tonight. First thing I thought of was if you’d taste like cherries.”

More likely I tasted like sweat and bad decisions but thankfully he didn’t seem to mind.

I lifted my arms as he pushed up my shirt, and for a moment, our eyes locked right before his dropped to my breasts that were testing the lacy confines of my bra.

A low, pleased groan slipped from his full lips before he glanced back at me. “You still sure you’re okay about this?”

I was more sure given that he was kind enough to ask. “Yes.”

“Good.” His hand splayed flat to my soft stomach. “Then stay right here. I’ll be right back.”

“Thought you couldn’t wait?”

He stood from the couch and shot me a wicked look that made my toes curl into the cushions beneath.

“Safety first.”

Chapter 3

Davis

Never been so damn thrilled to not head to Broadway. Whatever was messing with my head dissipated after the call with my sister and then evaporated altogether as Maggie and I sat at Lou’s until he kicked us out so he could close up. It was only then I suggested we head back to my place, if she’d be okay with that.

She’d fired off a quick text to a friend and slid off the stool.

As soon as we hit the elevators, I stopped holding back, and now I couldn’t wait to get back to her, explore every inch of her short and curvy body. I grabbed the box of condoms I had in my nightstand and shucked out of my pants and socks before I hurried back to the living room.

Maggie was a vision, spread out with one leg bent on my couch, her hair a pillow of dark, stormy waves beneath her. Goddamn, she was gorgeous.

She caught my movement and turned her head in my direction, and it was then I noticed where her hand was. Where her fingers were… slipped beneath the band of her shorts and moving.

Oh dear God. Yes… this woman was everything.

“Show me,” I grunted, nodding at her fingers doing the work I couldn’t wait to help her out with.

Her laugh was low and husky, and when she went to pull her hand out from her shorts, I shook my head. “Stop.”

“Which one do you want?”

I wanted her bent over this couch. Riding my face. Riding me. I wanted us so damn exhausted she’d stay tomorrow and so damn sore I couldn’t walk right when I had to report back to practice on Wednesday.

I tossed the condoms onto the coffee table and retook my perch on the couch. In quick movements, I had her shorts undone, flung to the floor, and was staring at the wetness soaking through her white silk thong.

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