Page 92 of Mexico Can Choke On It
Stop getting hard. Think about quarterly earnings reports.
“Feel the music, Moneybags,” she says playfully, then leans in. “Would it help you to remember how I tasted? Or how I’d taste if you licked me… other places.”
I clear my throat. “Gavin asked me to look after you. Not… this.”
“I don’t need a babysitter, B.” Her tongue darts out to wet her lips. “A facesitter, maybe…”
Focus on the steps. Left foot. Right foot. Don’t think about lickingthat sweet cu—
“There ya go, Sterling, now you’re getting it,” Gavin shouts.
Against my best efforts, the lesson transforms into a fever dream of vertical foreplay scored to Latin music.
“Whoopsie,” she says, fake falling. Her hand shoots out to “catch herself” and lands directly on my straining erection. She gives me a gentle squeeze that makes my vision blur.
“My, my. Now that’s what I call a dance partner.”
I close my eyes, swallow down a groan, and try to find my sanity somewhere in the pounding music. My best friend’s watching. My entire body is on red alert. My Sterling sword is doing a dance routine of his own, and Petra’s loving every second.
“Everything okay over there?” Gavin calls out.
“Just peachy!” Petra chirps, still cupping me before pulling back slowly. “Trying to help your bestie find his rhythm. He’s incredibly…hardto work with.”
“Pip,” I rasp.
“What?” she asks innocently. “You look so damn hot, I can’t help myself. And that monster in your pants has me gushing.” She edges closer, breath scorching my neck. “Knowing how much you want me… is making me so fucking wet.”
Her purring slides down my ear like a shot of whiskey—smooth, hot, and meant to burn. The sensation rockets through my spine, landing low in my stomach like a lit match. My grip tightens as I spin her away—too hard, too fast—and she crashes straight into Gavin and Fiona.
“Sorry!” I yelp.
“¡Cuidado!”Rosita chuckles, helping Petra to her feet. “This is salsa, not bumper cars.”
Petra laughs, eyes glittering as though she’s committed a felony and gotten away with it. She presses back into me, hips swaying slow and lethal.
“What’s the matter, Moneybags? Worried I’ll break you in front of everyone?”
Think about interest rates. Tax codes. Anything except how good she feels grinding against my dick.
“¡Muy bien,Senior Sterling!“ Rosita shouts over the chaos in my head. “I see the chemistry building! Allow your bodies to communicate!”
My voice comes out hoarse. “Thank you. Very… educational.”
Rosita claps. “Now try the dramatic finish! This is where passion explodes!”
Poor choice of words.
“Yeah, B. This is supposed to be sensual,” Petra says loudly. “Not like you’re afraid I have cooties.”
As she’s calling me out, her fingers glide across my chest, lighting me up. She spins, her leg sliding up my thigh, and then wraps my arm around her. I catch her in a low dip, my hand skimming the edge of her dress’s daring neckline.
I pull her up with agonizing slowness.
She leans in, lips brushing my neck. “I’m dying to know,” she purrs. “Do you fuck like you kiss?”
Her hips roll against my erection with dirty intentions. My control is shaking like an overstretched rubber band.
“Because Bryce, you don’t have to be gentle with me.”
