16. Are My Lips Still Stupid?
ARE MY LIPS STILL STUPID?
Asher
You know that saying: It’s always the quiet ones? Yeah, that. To my utter delight, Mister Spreadsheets is the best kind of sex fiend.
The eager kind. All that heat in the club, the way we rushed through the door, how we stumbled into my bedroom, kicked off our shoes, we are both raring to go.
At the edge of the bed, I jerk him against me, intent on dropping my mouth to his in a slow, languid kiss since I plan to show him just how fantastic my teasing can truly be.
From kissing to everything else.
But I stop, because I’ve wanted to do this for a long time. I reach for his glasses, gently remove them, set them on the nightstand.
Wow.
Mark without glasses is sexy in a whole new way. Those eyes shimmer with lust, and a touch of vulnerability.
Wait. No. Nerves.
But I know how to ease those, so I grab at the collar of his awful polo. “Of all the colors in the world, you chose gray? I hate this shirt,” I say, with a grin, returning to our favorite way to communicate.
“Those are pretty intense feelings for a shirt, St. James,” he fires back at me.
I have a lot of intense feelings right now. Most of them involve getting him naked. “But I bet I don't hate the way you look out of it. I liked what I saw tonight.”
“At the club or at the pool?”
“Both, Banks. Both.”
His grin is stupidly adorable. “Just take it off.”
Tugging at the waistband, my fingers travel under the fabric.
Mark shivers.
I roam my hands along the grooves of his abs, savoring his reaction, his shudders.
I jerk it off him, up and over, and yes .
My breath comes fast as I stare at him again, admiring the smooth skin, the cut of his lean muscles. Sliding my hands along the expanse of his pecs, my skin heats.
“So much better,” I mutter.
He lets out a low groan and then just trembles all over from my hands on his chest. It’s heady, this power, knowing I can arouse him in every way I want.
I travel back down his body. When I reach that happy trail that makes me very happy indeed, I slide my thumb along the dark hair. His hands shoot out and curl around my hips as he mutters, “ Fuuuck .”
As he grips me tighter, I dip my face to his neck, licking a line along a pulsing vein. His chest rises and falls as another harsh breath falls from his lips.
I’m going to make him lose his mind, and he wants this delicious torture. I drag his earlobe between my lips, sucking on it, then nipping him.
“Ohhhh,” he mutters, like nothing has ever felt better.
Mark Banks is a ticking bomb about to explode. I let go to see what’s in his eyes. To read him.
But Mark is rocket fast as he grabs my face, hauls me closer, and kisses me deeply.
His moan is dark and dirty, like he’s going to die of desire. That noise makes my dick even harder. But it also raises an important question.
One I simply have to ask.
I break the kiss.
“Are my lips still stupid?” I ask.
“Shut up.” He goes to kiss me again, but I weave out of the way.
“Are they?”
“Yes, they’re still stupid.” He takes a beat. “Stupid hot.”
“Good answer.” I coast my hands down his chest, unbutton his terrible khaki shorts. “By the way, I can’t stand these either.”
“Just take them off. Just take everything off. Maybe you won’t hate me so much.”
“Maybe I won’t,” I say, but I definitely don’t hate him.
He’s growing on me. A lot.
I take him up on his offer, stripping him . . . and shut the front door .
Orange.
Tight.
Briefs.
Am I hallucinating? Or is this my lucky week?
I have such a thing for a hot pair of underwear.
“I had this nightmare you were going to have on navy-blue boring boxer briefs,” I confess as I gawk at the sight of my banker nearly revealed.
Yeah, I have no more questions about Mark Banks. Everything is clear.
“I’m full of surprises,” he says.
I’ll say. “And this is my favorite kind.” I cover his bulge, and we both groan at the same time. “But, as much as I like these . . . I need them off.”
I reach for the waistband, but he’s faster. In the blink of an eye, Mark shoves down his briefs.
I heat up everywhere.
“Oh, fuck me,” I groan as his cock springs free.
That preview I got in the dressing room had nothing on the real thing. He’s long, thick, hard, and already leaking at the tip.
I wrap a hand around his shaft, and lust charges down my spine.
“Oh God,” he rasps, and then his hands are everywhere. They’re all over me. Traveling up and down my chest, and grabbing at my waist like he has to hold on or he’ll fall apart.
I suspect something else about Mark too. I’ve done the math on how young Mark was when he got married. Twenty-one.
Which means . . .
As I fondle his cock, I ask a direct question. “Have you ever been with a guy before?”
He shrugs. “Barely. And when I did I wasn't even old enough to drink,” he says, on a breathless shudder.
Holy hell. This is not just a treat. It’s a privilege . I’m not merely his idle curiosity. I’m his first time with a man?
Now there are two of us trembling with eagerness. I want to say something witty and clever, but I’ve got nothing except the truth. “I’ll make it good for you,” I whisper.
His lips curve into a cocky grin. “You know what would be good for me? If you shut up and got undressed too.”
I laugh, then we’re both working fast to get my clothes off, and when I’m wearing nothing, too, I slam my body to his, our cocks rubbing together as I take over the kiss again.
Mark tugs me back to the bed, falling down onto the mattress, making sure we don’t separate. His hands race along my back, my arms, down to my ass. Like he’s determined to explore every inch of me.
I climb over him, pinning him down. Staring at him. “So maybe you did want me,” I tease, keeping up the mood, since it seems to unlock him.
“You know I did.” He grunts.
He is just a man on edge. I let go of his wrists and the second I do, he sits up, reaches for my cock, and wraps a hand around me.
Pleasure skids down my spine. But the way I feel right now is nothing to the way he looks.
His eyes heat as he strokes me, brings a thumb over the head of my cock, wiping off a drop of liquid arousal.
“Taste me already. You know you want to,” I urge him on.
With just a breathy nod, he brings his thumb to his mouth, sucks off the taste of me. “Mmm. Yes .”
Have I ever seen anything sexier than Mark Banks right now?
The answer is no. Those gorgeous eyes roll back into his head, and he unleashes a hungry groan.
When his thumb slips from his mouth, his gaze locks on mine.
I lean over him, plant a soft kiss on those lips, then pull back. My instincts haven’t led me astray so far with Mark, so I toss out a question. “What do you want to do to me?”
I’m pretty sure he wants to touch me right now, more than he wants to be touched.
“I’ve got a long list,” he says, and it’s like the admission frees him.
Maybe it frees me a little bit too. My plan to tease with exquisite sexual torture falls to the wayside entirely. I give the man what he wants.
Me.
I fall down on my back, park my hands behind my head. “Then do whatever you want to me. And start at the top of that list.”