Page 73 of The Quarterback Sneak

I roll my eyes, giving him a playful shove, then stare at him skeptically. He laughs, nuzzling into my neck until I squeal. “Good thing I’m not your real girlfriend, then.”

His thumb stops moving, and his breathing slows. I don’t know why, but I immediately regret my words because I’m worried it will make him stop, and I don’t want that. “I know you’re not,” he says. “Doesn’t mean I don’t like playing make-believe.” He leaves the softest of kisses across my neck, his thumb grazing over my knee again. “But we can stop if you don’t want to play anymore?”

His hand slips away, and I grab his wrist before it can get too far. “Don’t stop,” I grit out, unable to look at him for how wanton I must look. “What else were you thinking about?” I drop my head to the gold-painted edge of the chaise lounge, concentrating all my thoughts on how good it feels having his hands skate across my body.

“I’m not sure you want to know.”

“Oh, I do.”

He leans in closer, his body pressing against mine. I can almost hear the smile in his voice when he speaks. “I was imagining you sitting on my desk in front of me.” I inhale deeply because his hand creates wider circles on my thigh, cutting close to my skirt. “Your legs were wide open, and you were begging for me to let you come on my tongue.”

“Oh, god.” I think I would have fainted at his words if my head wasn’t already resting on the ledge. He’s teasing me now, and I’m letting him because it feels so good.

Testing the waters, Zach’s fingers trickle up my thigh, and my legs part farther. The feel of Zach’s breath across my heated skin and his dirty talk have me embarrassingly wet.

Just as his fingers reach the edges of my skirt, he drops his hand back down to my knee cap.

It’s sweet, utter torture.

I bite my bottom lip, hoping it will suppress the moan bubbling up my throat. “Oh yeah? Did you grant my request?” It comes out strained, but I’m happy I got it out because I’d like to think I can be just as seductive.

His hand trails back to the hem of my skirt; this time, the tip of his finger sits just underneath it. “Do you want me to?” The implication in his tone is clear. He’s checking that I want this, even though we’ve done things before.

“Yes.” It comes out quiet but confident. We’ve done this before. No feelings. Nocommitments. Just fun.

Tension fills the air as his fingers brush my skirt.

Is he going to do this now that I’ve given him the green light?

I gasp when Zach’s hand dips under my skirt, going higher until he feels the lace of my panties at the top of my thigh. “You know, if you were my real girlfriend, I’d shift this little piece of fabric to the side and feel just how wet your pretty pink pussy is.”

My head falls back to the sofa and my thighs tremble. I feel the slightest graze against my panties, and I already want to melt into him. Worried all he will do is torture me, I shift a little, hoping his fingers accidentally slip under the fabric, but he knows what I’m doing and holds his ground.

He watches me writhe as I wait for his next move, whining out his name. He grins, and I can tell he’s enjoying this.

Bringing his lips to my ear, he whispers, “Are you wet for me, Honey?”

I finally take the chance to open my eyes and give him a teasing smile. I can be just as dirty and torturous as him. “Why don’t you find out?” I kiss the corner of his mouth.

He wets his lips and flicks his gaze to the hand resting under my skirt. He’s questioning whether I’m serious, so I give him a little encouragement. I lift my hips, letting my panties catch on the side of his finger so it scrapes my center ever so slightly.

His thick fingers send shockwaves across my middle, and I’m ready to feel him touch me again. Zach bites his bottom lip on a moan, tipping his chin up before moving down to kiss the side of my neck. “You’re going to have to be really quiet if you want me to do this.”

“Why?” I ask, running my hands through his hair and pulling at the strands ever so slightly.

“Because your mom will hear if we’re too loud.” I have no time to argue because he does it. He slowly, so, so slowly moves my panties to the side, and a slight bite of cold air hits my wet center. He still hasn’t touched me where it counts, so my hips buck up, begging for attention. “Are you sure you want to keep pretending?” he asks one more time.

I bite my bottom lip, nodding furiously as I groan out. I must look pathetic, but something about Zach’s smile makes me so damn horny that I don’t care. I nearly cry out when his finger skates across me so lightly that if I weren’t concentrating, I might not notice. Soft tingles radiate through my center toward my belly and thighs. I close my eyes, focusing on his touch, and I swear I lose all ability to move. When two of his fingers gently press inside me, I nearly combust. His palm pushes into my clit while his fingers stroke me from the inside.

I can barely breathe, let alone function.

“You’re so wet,” Zach mumbles into my neck, swiping my skin with his tongue. I can only take in short pants of air as I close my eyes, trying to maintain control, but whenever I think I’m okay, his fingers stroke me from the inside, hitting that little spot that makes me want to explode.

Embarrassingly, I’m already close to the edge. With the tension over the last few days building and Zach’s nimble fingers, I know it won’t take him long. “I-I can’t.” I hardly get it out, too lost in the feeling of his warm hand covering my center and the sound of his fingers moving inside me. That’s when his lips meet mine,quietening me. His tongue slides into my mouth, teasing me in the same rhythm as his fingers.

I’m so close my legs quiver, my stomach bottoms out, and I take in a sharp inhale.

“Hunniford!” The moment washes away, and my whole body clams up when my mother’s shrill voice ruins the mood.

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