Page 106 of Burn

As the song progresses, my movements come naturally, slow and persistent. I grind into him, letting him know just how much I want him but I also keep up with the theatrics of the song and the playfulness I intended to show him. Like when I somehow position myself to standing again, slide my right leg over his shoulder and pretend to hump his face.

Throwing his head back in a fit of deep laughter, I have to go back to straddling him so I don’t fall on the floor, but still, I got him laughing.

Caleb’s hands run up my chest, his fingers gliding over my breasts as he squeezes my tits in both his strong hands. Sliding down on his lap again, he’s so hard underneath me I feel like I’m sitting on a metal pipe.

The roughness of his jeans slides along my center, the thinness of my panties allowing me to absorb it, and I’m not going to lie here—Iknowhe can feel how wet I am.

Acting the part of a dirty stripper also has me talking like a hooker. I start saying all kinds of shit. Like, “I’m so wet . . .” and “My pussy aches for you . . .” and what I never expect to ever leave my lips, I shiver at this one because this is so clearly not me, “You like me riding your cock . . . don’t you, Daddy?”

Excuse me, Daddy?

Seriously, though, who drugged me? Jacey had to have put something in that Bay Breeze.

And you know what all this dirty talking does?

Gets Caleb worked the fuck up. He’s so worked up his chest his heaving, virtually gasping for breaths as his mouth attacks any bare skin he can get to as he frantically drags me back and forth over his cock.

My nails claw at him, and I hold myself tightly against his panting chest, rocking against him. His hands dig into my hips, gripping me so hard I’m sure bruises will be there later.

I know the song is just about over, and I try that whole “whip your head around” thing, get dizzy, and decide that particular move isn’t for me. So back to the dry humping I go.

When the song ends, we don’t stop. The song changes to Mickey Avalon’s “My Dick.” I know Owen has something to do with the song choice.

Caleb licks his bottom lip. Leaning in, I can smell the whiskey on his breath. “You have no idea how much I want you right now.Noidea.”

Oh, I think I do now.

“I want to fuck you”—a tender growl I can’t resist touches his voice—“right here, in front of everyone. Show them you’re mine.”

Holding my breath, I’m stunned by his admission. I know this side of Caleb very well, but to be around all these people and have him say these things to me . . . it’s different.

With sure movements, his hands glide over me. Finding my shoulder blades and then wrapping over my shoulders, he pulls me down on him, hard.

Arching myself once again and extending my arms, I wrap them around his neck. Rising on my toes, I rock forward, the chair creaking.

With my motions, his head falls back with an animalistic growl.

My body shudders. The way he shifts my hips makes me open my eyes.

When I look down, I notice his jeans are undone. I smile, impressed that I somehow undid them during everything.

Caleb’s eyes lock on my body, his gaze memorizing my every feature and curve. He doesn’t even notice his jeans.

I’m breathing heavily, cheeks flushed. Honestly, I’m panting.

“Iwantyou so bad,” he breathes against my neck, echoing my exact thoughts, his voice and body trembling, swiveling my hips against him.

“You do?”

“I do.” The muscles in his stomach flex and contract with each labored breath he takes. I can tell his resolve is crumbling when he sweeps his shaking hand across the back of his neck. “It’s hard not to when you look like this.” He motions to my body, straddling him.

Moving my hands lower, I play with his belt actually considering it. It wouldn’t be all that hard.

Caleb groans into my mouth, the want emanating from his voice. “Hey,” he says roughly in my ear, his arms wrapping tightly around my waist. “I want to fuck you. I do. Butnothere.”

“But you said . . .” Not that I was going to do it. It’s a little too public for me—aside from the grocery store incident with Judah—but the fact that Caleb’s so into it, I thought for sure he’d try something. Maybe discreetly slipping it in. Hell, I don’t know.

One look at him and I can tell Caleb isn’t used to this sort of thing. In his life, and even with me, he’s always been in control but now, here, surrounded by a group of onlookers, he has no control, and it lays with me.

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