Page 36 of Triple Play
Her eyes flash. “Excuse me?”
“You like messy. You put your vibrator on the bathroom counter. You walked past us with your laundry like you were trying to start a fire.” I lean in, close enough to smell that citrus scent and see the gold flecks in her hazel eyes. “You’re not scared of messy. You’re scared of wanting it.”
Her breath catches. “You don’t know what you’re talking about.”
“Don’t I?”
We’re staring at each other, six inches apart, the air between us charged.
Kiss her. Don’t kiss her. Kiss her. Don’t—
She closes the distance.
Her lips hit mine, and my brain short-circuits.
She tastes like mint toothpaste and possibility. Her hand slides into my hair, and I make a sound that’s embarrassing, but I don’t care.
I pull her closer, angle my head, and deepen the kiss.
She opens for me, and it’s better than I imagined—better than anything.
Her tongue touches mine, and I’m gone. Completely gone.
I shift, pushing her back against her pillows, covering her body with mine.
She gasps against my mouth, arching up.
My hand slides under her shirt, finding warm skin. She’s soft. Perfect.
“Jordie—”
“Yeah?”
“We shouldn’t—”
“I know.”
But neither of us stops.
Her legs wrap around my waist, pulling me closer. I can feel the heat of her through my sweatpants, can sense exactly how much she wants this.
I rock against her, just once, testing.
She moans.
The sound goes straight to my dick.
I’m so hard it hurts. I want her so badly I can barely think.
This is happening. We’re doing this. We’re—
A door slams downstairs.
We freeze.
Footsteps on the stairs. Heavy. Angry.
Grant.
