Page 54 of The Lineman

He cocked his head.

“You’re so stiff.” My snickers grew into churlish giggles, besting even those of the teens I taught, as I joked about his untimely . . . state of affairs.

He shifted, trying to get his power pole unfolded. It was growing and looked painfully uncomfortable, all bent yet growing beneath its veil of denim.

“Need a hand?” I asked, a spark of evil in my voice.

He stood and stepped back, hopping a little to try to readjust. The outline of his bulge was now crystal clear through his jeans—jeans he had to know were a tad too tight—but who didn’t love their favorite pair of Levi’s?

“Oh, my, Mr. Hart. Aren’t you a big boy?” I crooned.

He shifted again, adjusting his pants, failing to get his cock to lie in its normal position.

I shoved myself forward.

Elliot took a step backward, bumping into the coffee table and losing his balance. Before we knew what had happened, he was flat on his back on the hardwood floor with me leaning over him.

“Are you all right? Elliot? Can you hear me?”

He rolled his eyes. “I tripped. I didn’t poke my ears with an icepick.”

“Oh, good. You’re still a sarcastic bitch. That means you’re not hurt.” My smug expression told him all he needed to know.

Then, before he could try to stand, I lay down on top of him, pressing my full weight against his body and nuzzled my own half hard-on against his.

Fire shot up my spine.

“Uh, Mike—”

“Shut up and kiss me.”

So he did.

Chapter seventeen

Elliot

Thesecondourlipsmet, the world tilted all over again.

Mike made a noise—surprised but pleased, like he had expected this but still wasn’t quite ready.

I barely registered it because—fuck.

His weight pressed me down, pinned me to the floor, and he kissed me like it was something he’d been waiting to do all night.

I slid a hand to the back of his neck, fingers threading into his hair, pulling him in because now that I had him, I wasn’t letting go.

And Mike—cocky, teasing, smart-mouthed Mike—melted.

His smirk disappeared entirely, replaced with something softer, needier, and he made a sound deep in his throat that sent heat rocketing down my spine.

And then, just when I thought I had a grip on the situation, he moved.

Just a little—a shift of his hips, a roll of his body against mine.

And I groaned, full-body shuddered, my fingers tightening on his waist.

Mike broke the kiss just long enough to smirk.

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