Page 99 of Play Along

“No.”

He grins against me as he pulls my leggings down in a motion so fluid that it impresses even me. Sitting back on his haunches, he clears them from my ankles and tosses them to the floor.

“Same color.” His attention immediately snags on my matching thong, stroking a thumb over the elastic band.

Yes. Yes, it is.

And now it’s as clear to him as it is to me that I had a plan when I came over.

Did I want to end up here when I knocked on his door tonight? Yes.

Was I perfectly okay if we kept our clothes on and ate spaghetti on his couch if it meant I just got to hang out with him? Also, yes.

Which feels like a problem.

One I can’t think about or diagnose because I’m currently distracted by the giant baseball player laying hot kisses along my stomach as he crawls back up my body, his erection thick and hard against the inside of my thigh.

“You still okay?”

It’s sweet, it is. It’s all so fucking sweet, but even though Isaiah is being so good, so patient with me, part of the reason I knew he was the right man for this job was his experience. I don’t need him to treat me like a fragile bird who might break. I need him to treat me like a woman he can’t get enough of.

I gently run my palm down his face. “We should stop being so fucking polite, don’t you think?”

“Well, it’s either that or me ruining you for all other men, so it’s your choice, wifey.”

“Is that so?” I chuckle.

“You’re the one who wants to date after this. I’m trying to make that possible for you to do so.”

“That sounds like some awfully high expectations you’re putting on yourself.”

His laugh is a little bit evil when he flips us, leaving me straddling him in only my bralette and thong. He pulls at my hair tie to let my hair drop down my back.

“You wanna play, Kenny? Let’s fucking play.”

He smooths his hands over my thighs, gripping my hips and gliding me to rock over his erection.

“Mmm,” I moan. “Do that again.”

“You do it.” He crosses his arms behind his head, an arrogant smile on his lips. “Fuck yourself on me, Ken. Show me what you can do.”

My skin flushes with heat and prickles with anxiety. He’s supposed to be the one in control, showing me, teaching me.

But my body’s natural inclination is to roll my hips and find friction, so I do just that, rolling my entire core over the length of his cock, and it feels fucking incredible.

I drop my hands to anchor on his chest, slowly writhing on him. His sweatpants are light enough that I know, I know he’s going to be able to see just how wet I am. He’s going to be able to see just how much I don’t hate him.

But I don’t care because everything feels so good with him.

So easy. So comfortable.

“God, look at you. So fucking beautiful, rubbing your pussy all over me. Are you going to come like this, Kenny?”

“I think so,” I choke out, rhythmically sliding my clit over the head of his erection.

“Yes, you are. It feels so fucking good. You’re making me so fucking hard. Don’t stop until you come. I need to see it.”

I can see his arm muscles tightening, fighting to stay behind his head. But I don’t want them back there. I want them all over me.

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