Page 67 of The Cask

“Because being in your bedroom makes me think about the night you came for me over the phone.” He licked his lips. “And on my desk…” He shifted forward, closing the gap between us. “I’ve been trying not to think about it, but just being here…with you…it’s getting harder and harder not to.”

Heat coursed through my entire body and each breath I took felt strained. “Not to what?”

His hands cradled my head. “Not to do this,” he whispered as his lips brushed mine.

The softness of his lips contrasted with the strength in which they moved against me. Moaning, my hands found his bare chest and the rest of me followed suit. Feeling his dick pressing against me brought out sounds of pleasure, I deepened the kiss. It lasted ten seconds but it felt like ten minutes.

He pulled away fractionally, letting his face hover over mine. Our lips were just a breath apart when he whispered, “I’ve wanted to do that from the moment you invited me in.”

“Next time don’t wait so long,” I murmured.

He stared into my eyes. “I didn’t want to make you uncomfortable since I only have on a towel.”

“You’re right.” I held his gaze as I reached for the knot where the towel was tied. “I’d be more comfortable if you didn’t have a towel on.”

“Ebony,” he warned, saying my name in such a sexy way that my entire body trembled.

“Yes?”

“What are you doing?” He sucked in a sharp breath as I unraveled the knot and the towel fell to the floor between us.

“I think I need to forget about the stress of today,” I told him, running my hand down the length of his erection. “The threats, the tires, the towing… I just need to relieve that stress.”

His mouth met mine gently. “Well just say the word and I’ll take care of you.”

Our lips and tongues moved in earnest. I felt that delicious pull deep in my belly and all common sense and reason left my body. “Take care of me,” I moaned into his mouth.

He tightened his grip on me as he kissed me deeper, harder, and with more intensity than before.

“Omari—”

The dryer buzzer sounded, startling us apart.

“Oh, my clothes are dry,” he sighed.

I’m not, I thought as I pushed up on my toes and kissed him.

“Shit,” he growled, picking me up and carrying me the three steps to my bed.

As soon as he tossed me down, the rumbling sound of the street sweeper truck floated into the room.

Both of our eyes widened.

“Your car!” I exclaimed.

“Fuck!”

I scrambled off the bed and took off running to the laundry room. I grabbed his clothes from the dryer and tossed them to him. “The hood is still a little damp,” I told him as he pulled on the sweatpants and shirt.

After he slipped on his socks, he pulled the hoodie on. “That’s okay.” He smiled up at me as he put on his shoes. “It’s better than it was.”

The window wasn’t open in the living room so we couldn’t hear the street cleaner, but we knew it was getting close.

I grabbed his phone and wallet from the table in the living room. When he stood, I handed it to him.

“Thanks. I’ll call you,” he said in a rush before sprinting out the door.

I locked the door behind him and then ran back to my bedroom. Looking out the window, I could still hear the street sweeper, but I couldn’t see where it was located.

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