Page 75 of Personal Foul

Laughing, I help her get my pants off, but my laughter turns into a gasp when she grips me with her bare hand, stroking me slowly, her thumb picking up a drop of precum from my slit and rubbing it into the head.

“Mmm. Yeah, keep doing that.”

She obliges, but looks at me expectantly, and I realize she’s still waiting for an answer to her question. “Uhh, I’m not sure if that counts as a touchdown yet. I think getting inside you is necessary for that, but we’re certainly first and goal.”

Chuckling, she tightens her grip and strokes a little faster. “First and goal,” she repeats mostly to herself. “Arguably, you’ve had parts of you inside me already. Just not your dick.”

“Well, he’s the one keeping score, so …”

She laughs, and much to my disappointment, releases her hold on me. But my disappointment is short-lived when she asks, “Where are your condoms?”

Her laughter follows me when I jackknife off the bed and yank open my sock drawer to pull out the box I stashed in there. Returning to the bed, I tut. “I can’t believe you didn’t notice where I keep my condoms. It’s not like you haven’t been in my sock drawer plenty.”

She gives me a shrug and a cheeky grin. “I tried not to pay too much attention to anything I didn’t need or want to think about.”

Placing my hand over my heart, I make a hurt sound. “You wound me, Spitfire.”

More laughter burbles out of her. “By not wanting to think about your condoms when you were literallyblackmailingme?”

“That’s such an ugly word. But come on, don’t tell me you didn’t think about me naked when you were putting away my underwear at least.”

Her cheeks turn pink, which lets me know I’m on the right track, but she clamps her lips together and shakes her head.

“Oh, fine. Be that way.” I tear a condom off the strip and toss it on the bed, leaving the box on the nightstand, then climbing back onto the bed. “But you’ve certainly thought about me naked since then. After our date?” She gets pinker but shakes her head again. “Uh-huh. Liar. Yesterday, though, for sure. When I had you pinned against the door like that? You were definitely wondering what all was under my clothes.” I stroke myself, which I know is crude in the context of the conversation, but she just rolls her eyes.

“Fine. Yes. I did last night.”

“Good.” I lean over to kiss her again, cupping her breast with one hand and rubbing her nipple with my thumb.

She gasps into my mouth, and even though I’m dying to get inside her, I take my time. If we’re going for the extra point, I want her good and aroused again before I get inside her. As it is, there’s a solid chance I won’t last long enough to get her there, and I’ll have to finish her off once I’m done.

But a promise is a promise.

When she’s moaning and trying to rub against me, I pull away and rip open the condom. She lies back as I roll it on, clearly ready for me.

Moving between her legs again, I rub the head of my dick up and down her slit, and she makes a sound of encouragement, her hands finding my thighs just above me knees under her bent legs.

And with that, I line myself up and sink inside her. She lifts up to meet me, her nails digging into my legs just a little as her body accepts me, hot and slick and tight.

“You alright?” I ask as our hips meet.

She nods, and I start to move.

CHAPTER THIRTY-ONE

Charity

Dylan starts off slow, just like he did with oral. I’m not sure if that’s his general preference or just his usual MO. It’s been what he’s done with me all night, at least, and I can’t say I have any complaints.

One hand reaches down and grabs my ass, tipping my hips, and when he drives inside me on the next stroke, he hits my G-spot, and I let out an involuntary, “Oh my god.”

He grins at me. “Yeah, babe. Here’s the touchdown.”

I can’t help laughing, but it doesn’t last long, because he’s hitting me just right and it’s so intense on the heels of my last orgasm, I’m not sure how much I can take.

He seems to be in a similar state, though, because he doesn’t hold onto his slow, steady rhythm for long. He speeds up, and when he moves his hand to rub my clit, we lose the angle. It still feels good, but not the mind-bending, world-altering kind of good from a few seconds ago.

And Dylan notices.

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