Page 83 of Pieces of Us
“Alright. I’ll be back.”
I head to my room and change out of my dress shirt and pants. I’m pulling on my joggers when Mel knocks at the door. I open it to see her hair is down, but she still has her dress on.
Her cheeks flush as she stands in the hall. Her eyes fall on my bare chest before snapping back up to my eyes. “I can’t get my dress unzipped. Can you help me?”
My mouth becomes dry as I nod.
She turns around, and I gather her hair over one shoulder. I see her take a deep breath as I grasp the pull of the zipper at the base of her neck. Slowly, I pull the zipper down, exposing her back. I pull past her purple bra.
“Your bra matches your dress.”
Smooth line, Linc.
She turns her head to look at me over her shoulder. “My panties are the same color.”
My hand stops, only two more inches of zipper separating me from the reality of the vision in my mind.
“Can I see?”
She nods, so I continue working the zipper down until I see the purple fabric at the top of her ass. I blow out a breath at the sight.
She turns around, and my eyes lock with hers. Slowly, she pushes the shoulders of her dress down her arms, exposing her chest. Her breasts are overflowing from the top of her bra, like they are screaming for me to reach out and touch them. Then she bends at the waist, shimmying the dress over her bump and down to the floor, never losing eye contact. She stands straight again, the dress pooled around her feet.
We stand staring at each other, like we’re both waiting for the other to make the next move. Seeing her body has me hard as fuck and I want her. Any way I can have her.
“Mel?”
“Yes?”
“Can you help me?”
Chapter Fifty-Seven
Melonie
Hearing Linc say those words makes my body feel like I’m going to implode. He’s finally asking for me to touch him, and I want nothing more than to be of assistance.
I step closer, placing a hand on his chest, feeling the rise and fall of his breaths, feeling his heartbeat. His skin is warm, his muscles hard underneath my fingers, and I want him at my mercy. I want to make him feel what I feel when his hands are on me. I want to make him come; I want to hear him call my name.
Before we left for the baby shower, when he told me I was beautiful, when he touched my body, I thought his hand was going to blaze a trail right through the fabric of my dress. The entire afternoon, all I could think about was his hand on my hip,the way he looked at me like he wanted me. I just needed him to break. Needed him to put the helpful, nice guy act aside. And finally, he did.
Did I really need help with my zipper? No, but he doesn’t need to know that.
I slide my hand down his bare chest to his pants, gripping his length, feeling how hard he is through the fabric. His eyes close and his head tilts back.
“Is this what you need help with, Linc?”
He steps back until his back is against the wall of the hallway, and I follow, moving my hand along his erection.
“Please, Melonie.” I hear the desperation in his voice as his hips buck, and it only fuels the fire in my veins.
I tug on the waistband of his pants and slowly lower them to the floor. I only stop when I’m on my knees in front of him. When I look up, I find his eyes are searing through me.
“Will you be okay on your knees? Should we move to the bed?”
I begin making long strokes with my hand, feeling him become even harder under my touch. “I’m more than okay.”
He nods and his eyes close again. I wet my lips, then take him in my mouth. He inhales, and his hands slam against the wall at his sides. “Fuck, Mel. Your mouth.”
