Page 85 of The Late Hit
Chest heaving, I wait for him to make the first move.
“Wilder,” Quinton rasps, searching my face. “Are you wet for me, baby?”
Nodding my head is the only response I give him, not breaking eye contact.
“Show me,” he grunts out, moving his eyes down my chest while he licks his lips, gaze settling in the gap between my legs.
Slowly, I slid my hand from where it was resting on the door and let it drift leisurely up my thigh.
A growl comes from beside me. “The faster you show me how wet you are, the faster you get to come.”
Eyes widening, my hand moves at a faster pace—still slow—but quicker than it was. Slipping my hand under the skirt of my dress, I move my thong to the side, letting my middle finger graze the wetness that has begun to collect there. Removing my hand, I bring it up to where he can see it, letting the illuminated light from the garage reflect on how wet I am.
“Good girl. Now suck yourself clean.”
And I do just that. Bringing my finger to my mouth, I slip it between my lips. Tasting myself, I let out a moan, cheeks caving in. I’m making a real show of sucking my fingers clean before sliding them out of my mouth with a pop.
“Fuuuuck,” Quinton grinds out, reaching down to adjust himself.
My eyes track his movement, and I see his hardness pushing against his zipper, begging to be released. Wanting the chase, I quickly grab my purse from the floor and push open the door. Getting out, I race toward the house. Laughter erupts from me, and I think I hear Quinton yell my name, but I don’t stop. It doesn’t matter, though. Quinton’s long strides catch up to me in no time.
Still laughing, I round the corner into the kitchen and heads whip in our direction. JP, Xavier, Grant, Riggsby, and a few other guys from the football team are gathered in the living room playing Xbox. Pulling up, I press my lips together to keep the redness from spreading across my face. We all just freeze, staring at each other. Quinton breaks the stand-off by moving in front of me and tossing me over his shoulder.
“You really are a caveman!” I squeal. Popping my head up, I look at the room of guys. “Oh, you guys might want to put some music on.”
That comment seems to have snapped everyone awake. Hoots and hollers break out. Quinton slaps my barely covered ass and jogs up the stairs.
“It’s about fucking time!” Grant yells while JP shouts, “Mom and Dad finally got together.”
Quinton and I just laugh.
Entering his room, he kicks the door shut before bringing me over to his bed, where he tosses me. My body bounces, a boob about slips out, and Quinton catches the movement. He stands above me at the foot of the bed, eyes trailing my body.
“Goddamn, you’re a sight. As pretty as you look all sprawled out on my bed, I want you naked and coming on my cock.”
I suck in a breath at his words. “Fuck me,” I whisper.
“I will, baby, but first I need those lips on me.”
Slipping out of his jacket, he tosses it on his desk chair before he’s loosening the remaining buttons on his dress shirt. Getting the last button undone, he brings his body down next to mine. His mouth finds mine as my hands find him, pushing his dress shirt off him. Slipping his tongue in my mouth, a noise of appreciation slips out.
“Sweet and perfect,” he says. “Just how I knew you’d taste.”
Diving back down, he doesn’t go back to my lips, he finds the sensitive spot on my neck causing my hips to jump from the mattress.
“So eager,” he murmurs.
Sucking and pulling on my flesh, I know he’s going to mark me. And I don’t even care.
Music starts blaring from downstairs and Ludacris’s “What’s your Fantasy” lyrics come filtering into the room. Pausing his tugging of my neck, his eyes find mine at the same time I search him out. We both erupt with laughter.
“I did tell them to put music on.”
Shrugging, I smirk down at Q. He shakes his head before finding my mouth again. Our tongues melt together, and our bodies move in sync, responding without thinking.
Skipping my neck this time, his lips make their way to my chest. His hand drags down the strap of my dress, exposing my breast, palming it. Squeezing and kneading my boob with his hand while his mouth sucks on my skin. Moving his hand to the other side, he slips that strap down and begins palming me while his mouth finds my nipple. Sucking it in between his teeth, he tweaks my other nipple while his mouth worships the opposite side.
“Oh god,” I moan. I could come from him playing with my nipples alone.
