Page 77 of About That Night

I nod. I do want to know how to do this. To him. Only to him. The thought of doing this to anyone but him just feels completely and utterly wrong.

“Why not me?” he asks.

My brain is frozen. There is moaning in my ear from the video, but just on the left, because Hank has the right earbud in his ear. I can’t see the screen because I’m transfixed by Hank. I want him to kiss me. His mouth is right there.

“I don’t understand,” I murmur.

“Why don’t you want to practice with me?”

“Because…” I don’t want it to be practice. I want it to be real. “I can’t ask you to do that. That’s a lot to ask of you.”

Something about that doesn’t sound quite right, but I have tight nipples and damp panties and I’m very, very aroused and confused.

“Josiah is in Baton Rouge? With Nevaeh?”

I nod.

“Then get in the house, because you definitely don’t understand how this works if you think I’ll be doing you some kind of fucking favor by letting you suck my dick.”

He actually points toward the door, like it’s an order.

I shiver, my pussy aching and wet.

There is no way I’m saying no to that. It’s a command.

It shifts the air between us, which feels charged with sexual chemistry. It changes the vibe. I feel more confident, flirty. Excited. I’m giving in, letting go, receiving a lesson from Hank. Could anything be hotter? He’s teaching me a lesson.

My body nearly combusts.

“You don’t mind?” I ask, over my shoulder, flirtatiously. It’s easy to be with him. It always has been, once I make the decision to allow it to happen.

“I really don’t mind.” His jaw is locked, his shoulders tense.

His hand is on the small of my back, and he’s pushing me forward, propelling me into the house faster. I try to go to the couch, but he guides me toward my bedroom. Alarm bells go off because it will be harder to stop if we’re on my bed, but I’m too turned on to put up a protest.

It’s the reason I don’t object when he brushes my hair back and leans down to take my mouth in a hot, angry kiss. I’ve never seen this side of Hank. This frustrated, demanding man. It’s confusing, but also hot as hell.

I’ve barely recovered before he’s pulling my shirt off over my head.

“What are you doing?” I ask in the world’s most rhetorical question. It’s obvious what he’s doing. He’s taking off his own shirt and his shoes. He unbuttons his jeans and shoves them down.

“Getting undressed.” Without hesitation, he skims his hand around my back and undoes my bra.

“I thought this was just a blowjob.”

“Getting a blowjob while fully dressed is for the car, a public restroom, the park. Stolen moments. It’s way better when I feel your skin and see your gorgeous body. The view is important.”

“Right. Katrina said that.”

Hank reaches out and hooks his finger in the front of my bra between my breasts and drags it forward, off my shoulders, freeing my breasts. He stares at them and rubs his jaw. “Who the hell is Katrina?”

I shiver. My nipples bead under his scrutiny. “The woman in the video.”

My bra drops off of his fingers onto the floor. “Wise woman. Though I have to say, I’m not thrilled you’ve spent the afternoon looking at some other guy’s dick.”

“It wasn’t like it was hours. It was ninety seconds.”

He shoves his boxer briefs off. “I only want you looking at my dick.”

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