Page 75 of Biggest Player
Football, good looks, and foreplay.Bam!
Margot’s quiet moans are almost drowned out by the sounds of the film, but I know she’s making them—I can tell by her parted lips and half-closed eyelids. It’s an expression that’s driving me wild too.
I lean in, pressing a kiss to her neck, and take pleasure when I feel the pulse racing beneath my lips.
“This is so fucking hot,” I whisper, my voice rough with desire.
God I wish we could fuck.
Or at least I wish I could properly go down on her, and I doubt she’d want to do it in the back of my car, though it’s on the tip of my tongue to ask.
“Don’t stop,” she begs.
Up on the giant cinema screen there’s an explosion.
It’s timed perfectly with Margot’s, her body tense, hand still covering mine, not wanting me to stop. Breath coming in sharp, ragged gasps, and holy shit, who knew it would be this easy to make her come?
She shudders.
Obviously she does, because like I said, I’m so fucking good at this. The quiet cry escaping her lips sounds like a five-star review that I want to rave about online.
I did this.
I made her come at the movies.
In public.
In an awkward position.
With only one hand.
Fuck. Yeah.
We sit for a moment, pretending to watch the movie while her body finishes racking with spasms, the blanket covering her lap and covering up our shared secret.
I withdraw my hand, triumph filling my gut as Margot turns to look at me, her eyes sparkling with satisfaction. Desire.
“Well,” she says at long last. “That was interesting.”
Interesting?
What the hell is that supposed to mean? “Is that a good thing or a bad thing?”
Her head gives a tentative shake. “It’s ... it means we probably have to have a conversation.”
A conversation?
Shit. About what?
That cannot be good . . .
Chapter 16
Margot
“It’s not a bad thing.”
We’re walking out of the theater; then we stop when we get to my car, the blanket that was covering my lap during the movie draped over my arm—it is now going to be a forever reminder that I let him diddle me during half of it.
