Page 82 of Not That Ridiculous

“That’s fine,” I said, attempting to shuffle sideways. “To be honest I’m not feeling it all that much, either. No harm, no foul.”

No harm?

I was never getting over this.

He was all hot and heavy, good to go, right up until he was faced with the reality of my naked man-butt, and then the brakes came on.

I practically heard the tyres squealing against the tarmac.

Kevin eased me flat to the cabinets as he stood behind me in one smooth movement and laid his hot body against mine. I appreciated the warmth.

What with being half naked andexposedand everything.

“It’s fine,” I said again. “You can want to kiss a guy but not be able to go through with the sex when the crunch comes. That’s fine.”

Kevin’s reflection frowned at me and I looked away. He slid a hand along my jaw.

“Don’t worry, I won’t take it personally.” I was going to take itsopersonally I would never expose myself to a human being again. Or an animal, to be clear. Once I got these jeans back up, they were staying on for life. “It was a nice idea but?—”

Kevin curled around, ducked his head, and stopped me talking by putting his mouth on mine. He held my jaw in one hand and massaged my arse with the other.

I couldn’t help but notice the direction the massage was heading in.

If he kept going that way, he was going to hit my—nope, yep, he did it. Finger right on my hole. Nothing coy about it. Nothing tentative.

He rubbed sensuously up and down, and I whined into the kiss. My hips jerked. I almost stubbed my dick again.

Kevin pulled back slightly. “The problem isn’t that I don’t want to go here, Charlie,” he said, punctuating it with a firm push that almost—almost!—slid him inside. “The problem is, I’m going to come in my jeans, and I was hoping to impress you, not pop off the moment I get my hands on you naked.”

“Oh. Well. That’s…that’s a lot more flattering than wanting to stop because you’re freaked out by my arse.”

He flexed his hand, making me rise up onto my toes again. “Have I not made my feelings about your flat little butt?—”

“That isit!”

He laughed and contained my flailing. “I love your arse. You have to know I do. I just demanded that you let me get my hands on it bare. Why on earth would you think that I’m freaked out by it?”

I heaved a sigh and closed my eyes. “Maybe…maybe I might be the one who is freaked out.”

“No,” he said. “Really?”

My eyes opened and I scowled at him.

“You don’t have to be freaked out, Charlie,” he said. “It’s just me.”

That was sweet, but not as reassuring as he obviously thought it was.

Also, he was still stroking my hole. He’d added a finger, and he was being bossier about it. Firm, regular strokes. Up and down. Up and down. I clenched without thinking, and he let out a harsh breath.

I flashed back to him fingering the cinnamon buns in the coffee shop—the weirdo—and my face burned. He’d been imagining this, hadn’t he? I’d known it at the time, intellectually speaking. Experiencing it was something else.

“So, I’ve got an idea,” he said.

“I’m open to ideas.”

He sucked on his bottom lip briefly, eyes dark on my face. “I’m thinking that it would be best if I got my orgasm out of the way, and then I can focus properly on yours.”

I wasn’t sure I could withstand Kevin focusing on me.

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