Page 76 of Wishing Hearts

I rub him more firmly. “What else?”

“Anythin’,” he answers on a breath.

“Mm.” I give his dick a squeeze. It looks almost obscene cloaked in white linens, the tease of it more tantalizing than if he were bared before me. “Your ass?” I ask.

“Yes,” he answers immediately, chest rising and falling.

“Because you like it?” I check, shifting down his body. “Or because I asked?”

“I like it, stud,” he answers, those warm brown eyes intent on mine as I step off the bed and back up a little. “And I’ll like it even more because it’s you.”

This man.

Taking a breath, I toy with the button on my shirt. “I don’t want to be rough with you, Sam. Not tonight.”

He nods, accepting that easily.

“But you’re going to stay just like that,” I say, tracing a finger down the midline of my chest. “And you’re going to watch.”

He swallows roughly, throat bobbing. “Are you…”

His question trails off as I flip the top button of my shirt open slowly. I haven’t done this in a long damn time, but some things you don’t forget.

Sam groans as I start to sway my hips, moving my body to a silent beat. His breath is harsh in the otherwise quiet room, and I listen to each hitch as I ping my buttons free, one at a time.

“Stud,” he rumbles. “Look at you.”

“That’s the point,” I retort, turning as I slowly drop my shirt off the back of my shoulders. Sam makes a tortured noise as I shake my ass, and I look back at him, easing the shirt down my arms before dropping it to the floor.

“I’m startin’ to regret this,” he says, wiggling the fingers of one hand.

“You’ll survive,” I tell him, giving him a prime view of my ass as I drop my upper body low and then roll upwards.

He curses, and I can’t help but smile. This is a lot more fun with Sam.

“Besides, I’m Bad Cop, aren’t I?” I say. “I can’t let you go that easy.”

Sam hums in what might be disagreement, but he doesn’t move an inch as I start unbuckling my belt. He simply watches me, gaze heavy on my backside as I slide the belt free and drop it to the floor.

“So why…” Sam clears his throat as I start shimmying my jeans down my hips, never breaking stride. “Why didn’t the stripper thing work out? You’re clearly good at it.”

I huff a little laugh, taking the praise for what it is. “Didn’t like grinding on women,” I tell him, turning back his way, my jeans low enough he can see my tented briefs.

He makes a curious sound, gaze on my crotch. “Not that it matters to me one way or another, but I assumed you were bi,” he says, and it’s not hard to guess why. I have a daughter.

“Gay,” I tell him, slipping my pants off.

Sam makes another noise, watching intently as I roll my body, my hands sliding down my stomach and hips. He blows out a breath. “Stud.”

Smile on my face, I slip my thumbs under my waistband and ever so slowly lower the material, stopping when my briefs are halfway down my cock. “You want me to take these off?”

“Yes, I goddamn do,” he says, his biceps bunching like he’s having trouble keeping still.

“Since you asked so nicely,” I say, slipping the material down my legs.

Sam blows out another breath, his eyes darkening as I walk closer. Abandoning my dance, I jump onto the bed and straddle his body, hands going to the sheet sitting low on his hips.

“Keep those hands behind your head,” I tell him, easing the sheet down. Sam’s cock is fully upright, hard and leaking precum, and I hum at the sight before meeting the man’s gaze. “You took care of me today. Now, I’m going to take care of you.”

---