Page 25 of Blindsided
“Good?” she asks excitedly as she shuffles over next to me.
I leap off the bed and run my hand through my hair.Old lady in a garden. Picture an old lady all sweaty in a garden, Maclay.
“Your coffee shop guy is a wank,” I bark out of nowhere. “You’re a great kisser. End of lesson.”
I chance looking over my shoulder at Freya, who looks confused.
“Okaaay.” She chews her lower lip. “So what do I do about it then?”
I exhale heavily and purse my lips in annoyance. “If he’s not an idiot, he’ll call you tomorrow and apologise. If he is an idiot, you’re better off without him.”
She nods, absorbing my advice, and then glances at the clock on my dresser. “It’s late. I suppose I should go.”
I nod, thinking a bit of space from her is probably a good idea. When she stands, I conceal myself enough to walk her out of my bedroom without too much embarrassment. I see her safely to her car and reassure her one more time that she’s not a bad kisser. Then she drives away.
My mind is whirling as I lie on my bed thinking about how Freya is not a bad kisser. In fact, she’s quite good. Too good apparently because my hand is inside my shorts and I’m stroking myself while picturing my best mate’s lips wrapped around my cock instead of that idiot’s fucking shite cheese.
Fuck me, what have I done?
It’s dark when I feel the gentle brush of fingertips along my shoulder. The sensation is delicious, and it causes my body to roll into the mattress with need as goosebumps erupt all over me. When I finally come to, I turn onto my back to see Mac standing in my bedroom.
Shirtless.
My mind swims with confusion over why Mac would be in my bedroom in the middle of the night, wearing nothing but a pair of shorts. What is he doing here? And why is he looking at me like that?
As if answering me, he slowly reaches out and peels back the duvet to reveal my body. My apparently very naked body.
What the bleddy hell happened to my pyjamas?
I sit up to cover myself, but Mac shakes his head and presses his hand against my shoulder to lay me back down. His eyes break away from mine and rake hungrily over every square inch of my flesh.
My chest heaves, but I am surprisingly not embarrassed. I’m aroused.
“Don’t ever cover yourself up in front of me, Freya,” Mac says, his voice low and dripping with wickedness. “Your body deserves to be appreciated.” The bed dips as he kneels beside me.
“Is this another lesson?” I ask, my voice a mere whisper.
“Aye,” Mac replies in his husky Scottish accent as he drags the backs of his fingers from my shoulder, down my side, and up my belly. “I want to kiss more than those lips of yours. I want to taste all of you.”
“Taste me?” I belt out unattractively, but Mac doesn’t seem to care. His rough hand cups the weight of my breast before he dips his mouth and captures my nipple between his lips.
“Oh, my sweet heavens!” I exclaim as his assault on the sensitive nub causes a sharp stirring between my legs. A stirring that feels more intense than I expected. “Mac, this is wrong. We’re friends.”
“It’s because we’re friends that I can do this to you,” Mac growls and bites down on my breast, eliciting a harsh shriek from my lips. As soon as the burn from his bite stops, he sucks harshly while reaching out to cup my other breast.
Manhandling them.
Like a couple of hunks of meat.
It’s brilliant.
He shifts his head over and gives the other nipple equal treatment, and my body curls into his touch for more.
When he bites me again, I combust between my legs.
Like eruption combustion explosion.
“Was that a…a…?”
