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A Date with the Other Side

A Date with the Other Side (Cuttersville #1)(35)
Author: Erin McCarthy

Shelby shuddered, rolling her head back. He did have a point.

“Are you wet, Shelby?”

She shook her head, a strangled “No” coming out of her mouth.

“I don’t believe you.” He sat back on his haunches, pulled his T-shirt off, and tossed it in the dirt. Then he reached for her shorts. “Let’s find out. If you are wet, I bet I can make you come in less than five minutes. If you’re not, give me ten.”

It sounded so good, but he just really didn’t understand that she wanted to come, she really did, she just couldn’t. It was like her body got right to the store and then couldn’t walk inside. She could get real close, but could never tumble over the edge.

Her shorts went down, so tight from her attempt to look sexy that they dragged her panties to her knees on their downward path. Boston pulled her shorts over her ankles and sent them over by his T-shirt. He left her panties alone, hugging across her thighs, but baring her mound to him and making her feel very naughty.

The straw poked her backside a little as she slid around restlessly, but it was nothing but another turn-on. She had her pants down in a barn and Boston was determined to make her come. Dang, she wanted to oblige him, just for trying so hard.

Another tug behind her neck and he had her halter top undone and was sliding it past her hips, down over her panties, dragging them with it, until suddenly in the still dusky air, she was completely naked before him.

“Oh, Shelby,” he said, sucking in hard. “You are absolutely hot.”

For a response, her ni**les hardened. Boston actually smirked, the sexy bastard. Shelby threw a piece of straw at him. “Stop staring at me.” A girl could only take so much without being mortified to death or expiring from want.

The straw landed in his black hair and he ignored it. Instead he propped himself up on his elbows and spread her apart with his thumbs, taking another one of those long and searching looks at her most intimate spot.

Shelby squirmed, equal parts turned on and embarrassed. “Boston.” The tips of her toes were probably even blushing.

“You definitely look wet.” Boston dipped his index finger between her folds, just dusting across her clitoris and skimming over her swollen and slick flesh, never really sinking in. He spread her moisture back over the curve of her cheeks, then backtracked, and trailed hot wetness over both of her inner thighs. “You’re so wet you’ve got plenty to spare.”

And as if to prove his point, he drew his finger into his mouth and sucked.

Shelby was never so shocked in her whole life, and a squeaky “Oh!” flew out before she could stop herself. Because, while she was shocked, she was also titillated, eager to see what Boston would do next.

“Mmmm. You taste good.” Then he made a show of checking his watch. “I’ve got about four minutes left, right?”

Shelby had no idea, the very concept of time suddenly seeming ridiculous, for stodgy people who weren’t getting sexually tortured in the most exquisite manner in a barn.

Boston’s body was taut, tense with arousal, his chest far from brawny, but powerful, lean, tightly coiled muscles that were hard and bunched beneath his skin. His jaw was locked, but he still managed a cocky grin.

His wet finger fell onto her nipple, brushing over it, dampening her areola, plucking at her until she arched toward him. “Boston!”

Any other desperate plea she was going to make was cut off by his kiss, heavy and open, his tongue swirling over hers while he teased first one nipple, then the other, cupping her br**sts and nudging them together.

When he pulled back, he took her up with him, leaning her against his chest. Then while his mouth moved across hers and she struggled for oxygen, without the least little bit of warning, his finger sank into her, going deep as her muscles clenched around him and quivered with pleasure.

Breaking the kiss, he pushed her head against his chest. “Just lie there, Shelby, while I make you come. Do you want to come?”

Could there be a stupider question on this earth? “Yes.”

Nudging her thighs apart with his knee, Boston pulled his finger back and dragged it across her clitoris, pausing to make little circles around the swollen button. “Do you want to come hard?”

Eyes half closed as she let his chest hold up her head, Shelby breathed in the sweaty sexy scent of Boston’s skin, felt the sheen of moisture on his flesh in the humid barn, and arched her back as he drove into her.

“Yes, I want to come hard.” More than anything, she wanted to break right then over Boston’s hand and soak up the satisfaction.

He moved in and out with excruciating slowness, stilling her with a hand on her back whenever she tried to rock him to a faster rhythm. She was pulsing, building, aching toward that all-elusive orgasm, and she shuddered, clawing into his abdominal flesh.

“Yes, yes.”

The hand behind her skimmed over her backside and suddenly there was another finger nudging into her, coming from behind to join the one from the front, sliding into her hot cocoon with ease. Shelby gasped as her body stretched to accommodate him and he stroked her over and over.

Squeezing him, arching her back, burying her head in his chest as he drowned her in pleasure, Shelby cried out into his flesh, so close, so close, straining too hard, reaching for it, wanting to find it, but always staying just far enough back to keep her from it. Desperate, she sensed it slipping away, passing her over again, the train on the verge of rolling out without her, leaving her frustrated and unfulfilled yet another time.

Then Boston wiggled his back finger, while the front slid out and pressed her clitoris, and her head snapped back as her body jerked her out of her thoughts. There was an agonizing pause, everything stilled, goose bumps racing over her damp flesh, then suddenly she was there.

She came with great shuddering sobs, intense waves of ecstasy passing over her while his fingers stroked, stroked, milking maximum pleasure from her.

Clinging to him, she rode it out all the way, amazed and shocked and deeply, seriously pleased.

“Oh, my,” she said, sagging against him, burying her face in his smooth chest, the rapid beat of his heart filling her ear.

“You feel so good, Shelby.” He wiggled his finger still inside her. “I loved feeling you clench down on me, pulse as you came. You’re damn sexy.”

Shelby gave a little laugh. She couldn’t believe it. She’d had an orgasm in the Bigleys’ barn, and it had been good. Maybe just about the best she’d ever had.

“And I had thirty seconds to spare,” Boston said as he pulled back and kissed the top of her head.

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