Page 55 of Pucked Up Plans
She regards me with a pensive yet rueful expression, her chocolate eyes searing into me.
“I, uh, usually, but not today. I fucked this up royally. My one chance. You’re naked and a willing participant, and I’ve got no condoms. I’m losing major points in your book, aren’t I?”
“Honestly, no. Because you're man enough to admit your mistake and not pressure me into doing it anyway. That takes guts. And willpower.”
“But we may never get this chance again.” My tone is just short of whining.
“Never seems a little harsh, doesn’t it? Maybe it won’t be soon, but if you think we’llneverget an hour or two to ourselves, I’m going to be incredibly frustrated for a long time.Sexuallyfrustrated, if you catch my drift.”
Strong emphasis on thesexually. The girl who, less than fifteen minutes ago, would barely let me see her naked, voices the comment. And my dick takes notice, stiffening to nearly painful.
“So, we’ll get this chance again?”
She lies sideways next to me, her hand drawing lines on my chest, tangling in the short hair there. “Unless Aubrey has a horrible time at your house today, she’ll probably want to go back. If your mom will have her again, of course.” I’m about to reply, but she continues. “Oh, my aunt said she’d also babysit her. We have a standing invitation to Sunday night dinners, and we’ll be going there for Thanksgiving. For a sleepover. After, I’m sure Aubrey will be comfortable enough for me to leave her with Aunt Marsha for an afternoon or something.”
I like the sound of her plans, the wheels already spinning, wondering if we can schedule something now or if that seems too eager since Thanksgiving is still at least three weeks away.
Nonchalantly, I say, “That’s cool. I’ll make it work whenever’s good for you.”
She sits up, quirking her brows at me. “What if you have a game? Practice? Something else on your agenda?”
“So maybe we’ll pick a date convenient for us both. Better?”
Her smile brightens up the room. “Much.”
As much as I’m enjoying the closeness, when I thought up this brilliant—but not so well thought-out—plan, it wasn’t to cuddle. It was for sex. At the minimum, sexual things.
My mind prompts there are plenty of things we can do not involving condoms yet still resulting in orgasms.
I slide out of Tate’s hold. Kneeling at the foot of the bed, I yank her legs. A startled gasp echoes around the room as Tate reacts to the not-so-smooth motion. It’s because I’m rushing. I don’t want to waste a single moment before I taste her.
“Spread your legs wider.” She obeys instantly, her thighs parting enough to fit my head in between without it being squeezed. I shimmy her body a little more, lifting her legs at the knees to rest on my shoulders.
My tongue licks my lips in anticipation of how sweet she’ll taste. I can’t wait for the noises she makes and how she looks when she orgasms. Although it may be a little hard to see her face when I’m ravishing her pussy. Next time.
Opening her thighs marginally wider, I trail my fingers up the sides. They quake at the slightest touch.
This is going to be so fun to watch her come undone.
With no further hesitation, my tongue traces up her slit, her “Oh shit” resonating around the room. It’s not loud by any means, but it pierces the silence.
“Do it again.”
I do. This time, two quick licks rather than one long.
Her hips buck off the bed. I like how she’s so receptive to my touch. No matter what part of me caresses her, she reacts.
I suck her clit into my mouth, swirling the nub around before letting go. She rewards me with a long, drawn-out moan from deep in her throat.
Music to my ears.
I raise my head so I can observe her. “More, Tate?”
Her head doesn’t even leave the bed. “You can’t stop now. I’m close, but not there yet. Not even close enough.”
My only response is to swipe again, massaging the inside of her canal. Her flavor on my tongue turns me on more. I don’t want to blow before she’s done. Heck, I’m not a teenager—I don’t want to shoot in my shorts. I should have been more prepared to ache. I should have been prepared with condoms. That would have been smart. Not only for me, but for both of us. Because experiencing sex with Tate is high on my priority list.
I flatten my tongue against her clit. It tips the scales, forcing her over the cliff. While she thrashes on the bed, I lap up the mess dripping out, not leaving a single drop behind.
