Page 51 of How to Date a Younger Man
“Fuck, Layne,” he whispers, trailing his lips over the delicate skin below my jawline as his hands run up my thighs and take a handful of both ass cheeks.
He squeezes as I delicately pull his swollen erection out of his pants, sliding my thumb over the tip. He hooks his fingers around the elastic of my panties, pulling them down and over my ankles so they fall to the floor. He produces a condom from his pocket and suits up.
All at once, he’s inside me, and I gasp out a breath.
“Yes,” I groan, wrapping my legs around his hips. For a moment, the world stops, and we’re not two friends with a complicated past, and ten years between us, and all that other stupid stuff to worry about. I’m just Layne, and he’s just Griffin. We’re simply us—and it’s so stupidly, wildly, unbelievably right.
Grabbing his shoulders for support as he thrusts into me, I do my best to hold on, but within minutes, Griffin is driving me toward an intense orgasm. I bite my lip to stifle a moan and hang on for dear life.
“Fuck, baby. Yes.” He groans when he feels me start to come. A few more steady thrusts and Griffin’s right behind me, following me over the edge with a hoarse groan.
My limbs wrapped around him, with him still inside me, I plant kisses along his neck as our breathing slowly evens out. He touches my hip, gently withdrawing, and when he pulls away, I already miss the feeling of him between my thighs. I want to stay here, just the two of us, and forget about the real world for a little while longer. But the music outside the door and the sound of distant laughter soon remind me that we have to go out and face it.
I step into my panties as he zips his fly, and he chuckles, watching my dress bunch up as I pull the lacy fabric over my hips.
“What? Can you think of a more ladylike way to redress after a mid-party quickie?”
He shrugs and shuts me up by planting another kiss on my lips, one that lingers long enough to send a tingle between my thighs. Jesus, this man is making me insatiable.
“I can honestly say I never thought I’d have sex in my parents’ bathroom before,” he says, looking around the room like he’s seeing it for the first time.
“You might not want to think too hard about that one,” I reply, grabbing a tissue to fix my smudged lipstick.
“Oh, trust me,” he says, moving behind me. He slides his hands over my hips and presses his body into my back, brushing his lips against the back of my ear. “I’ll be thinking about that for a very long time.”
I get chills for probably the thousandth time today, a smile spreading across my lips. “You’re gross,” I tease, mock rolling my eyes as I shake my head at his reflection in the mirror.
He places a kiss on the back of my neck, his hands roaming over my body one last time before letting go. “Guess we should go back out there,” he says reluctantly.
“You go first. I’ll be out in a couple of minutes so it doesn’t look suspicious.”
“Damn, who knew you were such a pro at this?” He cocks his head to the side, his eyes twinkling like they do when he teases me.
“I watch a lot of romcoms.” I shrug. “Now go, before someone sees you leave.”
He leans back in for one last kiss before quickly slipping out the door and shutting it behind him. I don’t hear him speak to anyone as his footsteps fade away, so it seems like the coast is clear. I purposefully picked this bathroom because it’s tucked far away from the rest of the party, and there’s another guest bathroom closer to the crowd. This may have been my first time hooking up with someone in the middle of an engagement party, but come on, I’m not an idiot.
I give myself one last look, making certain my makeup looks normal. The flush from the orgasm has mostly faded, so more than anything, it looks like I just reapplied a touch of blush. And my curls were already a little tousled before, so a quick run-through with my fingers is enough to make them look normal.
With everything in order, I take a deep breath, doing my best to get back into the party mentality. If there’s one thing I can’t do, it’s walk back out there all giddy and not expect my best friend in the entire world to notice.
Even if that’s exactly how I feel.
17
* * *
GRIFFIN
When I told Layne that I wouldn’t be able to stop thinking about what happened between us at my sister’s engagement party, I wasn’t kidding.
Last night, I dreamed about the firm press of her hungry lips against mine. This morning, I burned my hand on my coffee, too preoccupied with fantasies of her soft curves against my palms. Later in the day, I broke the tip of my favorite lining pen, remembering the distinct sensation of entering her. To say I’m distracted would be an understatement.
