Most Valuable Playboy
“Yes,” she cries out, and it’s both a reply to my question, and the answer to whether she likes how I’m touching her.
“I fucking love that you were watching me,” I say as I push the shaft in her, hitting deep, then stroking it out.
She parts her lips, but she can’t even seem to form words. She’s moaning and groaning and grinding into the vibrator, and she’s so clearly close to shattering. She slips into some kind of exquisite torment, the look on her face both anguish and bliss. Her eyes squeeze shut and her lips fall open, as she seems to chase her pleasure.
My dick is steel again, and I’m already turned on beyond reason. Her hips rise over and over as she fucks the toy, and I fuck her, and I wish it was me inside her. My mouth on her mouth, her body beneath me, feeling her grip me, feeling her come on me, coming inside her.
Her mouth turns into an O. Then she twists her hips, crying out in pleasure. “Oh God, oh God,” she pants, moaning, tossing her head back and forth, the picture of erotic bliss, and I can barely take it. I can barely withstand my own lust as she comes undone before my eyes, her hands tied, her hips lifting, her lips parted. Coming for me. Beneath me. Because of me. I want more of this. I want all of this.
I am on fire for her.
I slide the vibrator out of her, turn it off, and toss it on the covers. Then I do the riskiest thing in the world. I untie her. First one arm, then the other, and in seconds we are wrapped around each other, two hot, sweaty bodies, sliding together. I’m kissing her wrists, making sure they don’t sting, and she’s naked and rubbing against me.
“They don’t hurt,” she says and pulls her hands free from my grip to bring them to my face. “It only feels good.”
“I wanted to kiss you at prom,” I blurt out, picking up where we left off in our mutual confession.
“You did?”
“So much. You were so pretty. We were slow dancing to one song, and I wanted to thread my hands in your hair and kiss you.” She presses her soft breasts against my chest. My skin burns with desire. She’s so close to me. She’s all over me. She’s everywhere, and I want to feel all of her.
I groan as I yank her impossibly closer, my cock pressed to her thigh, her pussy rubbing against my other leg.
“I would have let you,” she whispers, her words sending a sharp, hot thrill through me.
“Yeah?”
She nods, kissing me, claiming my lips. “You could have kissed me then. You could have kissed me anytime. I wanted you to kiss me at my brother’s wedding when you danced with me.”
I close my eyes as my palms slide up her back and into her hair. “I wanted that, too,” I murmur, then curl my hands around her head and bring her closer, slamming my lips to hers and kissing her till we are both senseless, mindless, boneless.
We’re side to side, and rubbing against each other. Flesh to flesh. Skin to skin. All heat, and desire, and something more. Something that’s so damn dangerous. My heart feels as if it’s going to fucking explode in my chest. It hammers wildly for this woman, and I can’t stop touching her. My hands are everywhere. My lips are all over her mouth, her jaw, her neck. Her fingers roam my body, touching, exploring, searching.
We hunt for ways to get even closer. Our kisses are hungry and greedy. We are two desperate people who can’t get enough of each other. When we kiss now, it feels like making love, and I’m losing control. I’m losing my mind for her. All this nakedness, all this heat—it’s combustible. I tug her closer, pushing my hard length against her mound. As we move, my cock slips between her legs.
I groan so loudly it’s deafening to my own ears. Because the sensation is dizzying. I’m not inside her, not even close, but like this, it’s absolutely electrifying to feel her slickness against my hardness. I thrust once, my shaft gliding across her.
She moans, a long, sexy ohh.
It nearly breaks me. I’m so ready to flip her to her back, hike her legs over my shoulders, and sink into her.
One more thrust. One more deliriously good slide against my girl.
Then reality smacks me hard.
I can’t fake fuck her. I certainly can’t fake fuck her without a condom. I won’t play with fire, and this is a burning-down-the-forest level of danger.
I freeze, willing my hands to stop moving along her flesh, forcing my body to disengage from hers. I curse up a storm, then I do what I’ve been taught to do to avoid a hit I can’t handle—get out of bounds. I jump out of bed, moving away from her.
“Shit, Vi.” I drag my hands roughly through my hair as I grab for my clothes. “You’re too tempting. I want you too much.”
She looks chastened. “What does that even mean?”
I yank on my boxer briefs. “If I stay for another minute, I will be fucking you. I will be fucking you all night long. I won’t want to stop.” I drag a hand through my hair roughly. “I need to get it together.” Squeezing my eyes shut, I try to will away this raging desire. When I open my eyes, I breathe out hard like a bull.
She reaches for a sheet and pulls it to her chest, covering her beautiful body. “That better?”
I grab my jeans. “It’s worse and it’s better. I’m sorry. I’m sorry if I seem like an ass.”
She sighs. “Let me walk you to the door.”
Two minutes later, she’s in a short, satiny robe, her hair a wild mess, her cheeks glowing. I’m dressed and both satisfied and blue-balled. But I have a job to do, and I can’t let things with her go any further. There’s too much at stake.
I cup her cheek. “I leave tomorrow. I’ll be thinking of you.”
She shakes her head. “Don’t think of me. Think of destroying Baltimore.”
My God, she’s a perfect football girlfriend.
I mean, fake girlfriend.
Fake girlfriend who I nearly real fucked.
27
Holly: Is today the day?
* * *
Violet: Yes. She just left.
* * *
Holly: And??? How did it go? Did she tackle you to the floor of the salon and demand all the details of your never-ending, undying love for him?
* * *
Violet: Shut. Up.
* * *
Holly: Well?
* * *
Violet: I trimmed an inch off the ends and did a blowout. She looked lovely. She was heading to the airport, ready to take off in her brother’s private jet to Baltimore.
* * *
Holly: La-dee-dah. What did she talk to you about while you did her hair? I’m dying to know.
* * *
Violet: We mostly chatted about favorite celebrities. We bonded over our shared love for Leonardo DiCaprio’s talent, Chris Pine’s hair, and Ryan Gosling’s face. Also, we both adore Isla Fisher and Gal Gadot, so there was that, too.
* * *
Holly: I love Chris Pine’s hair, too. I swear the guy has two heads’ worth of hair. But back to the topic—SHE DIDN’T QUIZ YOU ON COOPER?
* * *
Violet: Oh, she did. She absolutely wanted to know how we were doing. I said he was great. I said I thought he was amazing. I said I’ve been in love with him since second grade.
* * *
Holly: Did you really?
* * *
Violet: Yes.
* * *
Holly: Are you going to tell him how it went?
* * *
Violet: Not yet. He hasn’t asked. I think he forgot when the appointment was. But honestly, there’s nothing to tell, and he needs to focus on the game, not a harmless little haircut.
* * *