“As far as massages go, this one feels more like foreplay,” he murmurs into his pillow, arms at his side. “Am I right or am I right?”
“Does it?”
“Is it?”
“No.”
“Too bad. You’re making me so fucking hard.”
“Am I?” I stare at my hands in wonder.
“You really have to ask?”
Three more minutes of pretense and Rowdy’s maneuvering himself to his back. I avert my gaze, not wanting it to settle on the erection tenting his briefs.
But it’s hard, so hard—no pun intended.
“Come here.” He beckons me closer and like a moth to a flame, I go.
Lean into him, kissing him full on the lips.
“You’re so fucking pretty.” He swipes the long hair out of my face; it hangs in sheets down my chest and over my eyes. Presses his thumbs lightly into my cheek, over my dimple. “I love this. It does weird, fucked up shit to me every time you smile.”
When I smile, he smiles back, reaching for me, arm sliding under my ribcage, the other circling my waist.
Bodies pressed together, I cradle his erection between the apex of my thighs, our mouths widen, tongues dancing. Unhurriedly rolling together. Sloppy and wet.
“Wanna climb on top so we can spoon?”
“That’s not how you spoon.” What a weirdo.
“Wanna climb on top so I can feel your tits on my chest? Is that good?”
Good enough.
Effortlessly, he hauls me on top—as if I weigh nothing—bodies a perfect fit. Like two pieces of a sexually fueled puzzle. Rowdy’s giant hands are tense, palming my butt, dragging me up and down his cock, mimicking sex, the motion making us both moan.
So good it hurts.
“God I want to tear your clothes off,” I moan, hastening to add, “But not in your parents’ house.”
“Right,” he agrees. “Definitely not in my parents’ house.” His pause is comical. “Uh, why not in my parents’ house?”
“I’d never be able to look your mother in the eye tomorrow morning. I’d be mortified.”
“What about just our shirts so I can play with your boobs?”
My body shivers at the thought of him touching my bare breasts.
“If I take my shirt off and you start touching me, my bottoms will come off.”
His large hand pulls me down so our mouths meet again.
His tongue traces my bottom lip.
“What is it you think I’ll do if these skimpy little bottoms come off?” He’s murmuring, question a husky, molten masculinity that has my panties dampening. I gasp when the tip of his cock finds my clit through our thin underwear.
We grind at each other slowly, kissing slowly.
“Tell me what I’d do to you, Scarlett.”
“You’d…”
He licks my earlobe, distracting, hips rotating slowly beneath me, reaching between our bodies to push aside my shorts. “I’d what?”
God his voice drives me mad. Makes me as hot as his mouth on my neck does. His hard dick between my legs.
“D-Don’t make me say it,” I stutter, eyes almost rolling to the back of my head, forgetting how to focus.
“I want to do everything to you, so fucking bad.” He’s crooning, sexy and sweet. “You know that, don’t you?”
I can feel it.
He’s a rock hard, raging hormone between my legs. But even still, he doesn’t pressure me to have sex with him.
“But not in your mother’s house.”
“Not in my mother’s house.” His voice cracks. “That would be bad.”
I breathe out, leaning down, breasts rubbing against his magnificent chest.
“I have an idea.” He perks up. “What if we dry fuck with our clothes on until we come in our pants? Like horny teenagers?”
Dry fuck? That I can do.
“Dry fuck me,” I moan when he licks my neck, pulling back the strap of my tank top with his forefinger. Sucks on my nipple.
But he’s not done talking dirty. “One of these days you’re going to sit on my face while my tongue makes you come.”
Lordy.
“You want me to do that, baby? Eat you out?”
Oh Jesus.
I can’t do anything but nod dumbly, the visuals making my clit tingle. Rowdy’s hot fingers slide into my underwear, up the back, index finger sliding down my crack, pressing into the skin of my ass.
“God,” I gasp, gyrating desperately.
“Push your panties aside, baby, help me out,” he pants.
I do as he says, peeling back the cotton fabric of my thin, lacey underwear. Moan when the tip of his dick digs into my pussy, restrained only by his gray boxer briefs.
“Christ you feel good. The shit I’m going to do to you when we’re alone…” His growl is low as those huge hands grip my hips, urging me to swivel. “Whatever you do, don’t stop—my cock is in the perfect fucking spot right now.”
My lids flutter closed as my mouth falls open. One push of his boxers and he’d be all the way inside. So easy, too easy. So good.
“I’m so goddamn close,” he declares, gripping my backside and flipping me with one, singular motion. Like a well-trained wrestler, not missing a beat.
Strong. Stealth.
Bold.
A little too loud, mimicking sex a little too well.
“Keep it down,” I beg breathlessly. “I swear Sterling, you’re going to knock the headboard into the wall.”
“You want me to fake screw you nice and slow, Scarlett? Is that it?”
He’s so dirty, so unfiltered—a contrast to the gentleman he is the rest of the time we’re together.
“Do you always talk like this?” I manage to ask, and when my eyes roll to the back of my head, he sucks on my nipple through my shirt and I almost float off the bed, euphoric.
“Like what?”
“Do you always talk this dirty?”
“Don’t you like it?”
I love it. “Yes.”
It’s erotic and makes me feel sexy. Makes me want to peel my shirt—and everything else—off.
His cock glides up and down the fold between my legs, hitting every nerve along the way. Hitting my clit. Gripping my butt cheeks, pulling me in.
So close, so close…don’t stop, don’t stop.
We’re winded, the telltale signs of two impending orgasms looming, mouths fusing, mattress on the verge of squeaking—banging against his bedroom wall.
So close, don’t stop.
“Sh-shh,” I admonish, not sure if it’s him or me making all the noise.
His mouth latches onto my neck. “I want you so fucking bad it’s making me mental.”
So close, don’t stop.
We don’t, not until we’re done, climaxing at the same time, Rowdy’s face buried in the crook of my neck. The noises he’s making—tortured moans of pleasure I’ve never heard a man make.
Sexy.
Mine.
We lay entwined, fully clothed.
Glowing.
Then…
“We should probably both change our underwear. There is jizz everywhere inside my shorts.”
SATURDAY
Rowdy
We made it to the ship with hours to spare, the gangway a long, winding way up to the atrium deck.
I’m close behind Scarlett, eyes glued to her fantastic backside, admiring the view. The pretty top with tiny holes in it and pair of white shorts she’s wearing don’t stop me from ogling as she takes one long stride after other.
Unfortunately, no sooner do we step onto the threshold of the ship than my dad catches me staring at her ass, pulling me aside by the arm. Gets in close so he doesn’t have to raise his voice, gearing up for a lecture.
Patiently, I let him deliver the speech I know is coming.
Blush a little, too.
“Your mom and I are trusting you this weekend. Please use your best judgment.”
I nod. “I understand.”
“Do you? You’re sharing a room with this girl, whom we’ve never met before this weekend. We have to trust that you’re both going to be responsible.”
“Responsible?” I smirk, crossing my arms. “What do you mean?”