Page 64 of Body Check
“Can you, though?” he asks, stretching his arm over mine and grabbing what we need while the thick length of his cock wedges itself in the crease of my ass cheeks. Good. Lord. This man knows exactly what he’s doing to me.
But since it’s such a fun game, two can play.
When he goes to drop the package of breadcrumbs into the cart, I run interference and bump his hand. The container starts to tumble to the ground, so I do the only thing I can. I bend over to scoop it up before it makes a mess.
And if I happen to linger for a second with my ass in the air, so be it. And maybe I also take my sweet time rolling my body back up to a standing position so I can return the breadcrumbs to the safety of his arms.
And if all that makes my boyfriend crazy? Well, he started it.
The car ride from the grocery store back to the hockey house is quieter than I expect. Instead of trading sexy banter, we’re sitting in silence. And just when I’mm about to tease him, I notice his tight grip on the steering wheel. So, that’s it. He’s keeping his mouth shut until he can put it to better use, and I’m okay with that. There’s no doubt in my mind—or in Dutton’s pants—that he was enjoying the audiobook. I was, too, but even more than that, I was enjoying his reaction to it. Who knewlistening to a story in the middle of a crowded shop could be this much of a turn on?
Since Dutton’s in charge of dinner tonight, he ordered everyone out of the house so he could cook without having to deal with their noise and bullshit. That’s a direct quote, by the way.
Dutton parks in his spot, and as we carry the bags inside, I hope the guys stay out a little longer because I’m all worked up and I don’t feel like being quiet.
My boyfriend unpacks our haul and puts everything away in record time, and then he wraps an arm around my waist and pulls me tightly to his chest, and places his lips right next to my ear. “I need you, Bridgette,” he says, his voice low and rough. His other hand grips my hip, and now our bodies are nearly fused together except for these stupid clothes we’re wearing, and there’s no doubt that we’re on the same page.
“So, I’m guessing you liked the audiobook?” I tease.
“Yeah,” he admits. “It was pretty fucking hot, actually. Almost as hot as watching you blush when you were waiting to weigh the produce and Jack came so hard down Annabeth’s throat that she nearly blacked out.”
I blush at the memory.
“It’s a good book, but I do have one issue,” he says, running his hands over my hips in lazy patterns.
“Oh yeah? What’s that? Don’t tell me you feel bad for Elliot?”
“Hell no,” he scoffs. “He was a shitty boyfriend. No wonder she dumped him. My issue is that half the freaking chapter was devoted to Annabeth giving Jack a blowjob. But then, there’s like a freaking paragraph where he goes down on her. That doesn’t seem fair, and frankly, I think Jack could use some pointers,” Dutton says, his fingers inching closer to the juncture of my thighs.
“Some pointers?” I ask, unable to hold back a giggle. “You do realize he’s a fictional character, don’t you?”
“Okay, so, maybe I’ll write my own scene. That’s called fanfiction, right?”
I nod as he grips my waist and spins me around to face him. “All my roommates are at the movies,” he says. “They won’t be back for at least an hour. I’m going to eat my weight in chicken cutlets tonight, so I think I’ll squeeze in a quick workout in the pool.”
And with that bizarre pronouncement, he kisses me on the forehead—the freaking forehead— and heads out to the patio.
Before I can even form the wordsWhat the hell?, he looks back at me with heat in his eyes. “Aren’t you coming?”
“Why would I want to sit out here and watch you swim?” I ask, following him outside. It’s a warm fall day, but it’s not pool weather. “If we’ve got an hour of privacy, I’m not wasting it watching you do laps.”
Dutton levels me with a look as he tears off his t-shirt and drops his sweats, leaving him standing in front of me in just his boxer briefs. His erection is unmistakable, and I’m dying to get my hands and mouth on it.
“I said I was getting a workout, not doing laps,” he tells me, smacking my ass lightly as he passes by me and jumps straight into the deep end of the pool.
A few droplets of water splash against my skin, and they are cold. I think he might be losing his mind, so when he swims up to the edge and looks up at me, I squat down in front of him. “Is there a reason you’re in a freezing bowl of water instead of a nice warm bed with me?”
He starts talking, but his eyes never leave mine. “Yeah, because I’m so hard right now my damn balls ache, and when I get inside you, I want it to last more than ten glorious seconds.This is my version of a cold shower. Will you grab some towels and come sit with me?”
Who could say no to that question? I grab a few towels from a nearby lounger, but before I can take a seat, Dutton is shaking his head.
“Your clothes are going to get wet,” he warns.
“Well, I don’t have a suit here, so…”
“That’s because you don’t need one. Take your clothes off and come sit here,” he says, his voice hypnotic as I fall under his spell. In less than a minute, I’m sitting at the water’s edge in a black lace thong and matching bra. “You’re still wearing too much,” he tells me, tracing the seam of my entrance with his finger. Wordlessly, he helps me shimmy out of my panties before he unclasps my bra.
His hands are on my thighs half a second later. “Open up for me,” he says, his voice sounding strained.
