Page 16 of The Maestro and the Roofer

“Are you wet?” Travis asked in a low voice.

The question was a no-brainer, but she tilted her pelvis toward him in invitation. “See for yourself.”

His hand shot forward and cupped her mound, a deep growl rumbling as he caressed the damp fabric. A gasp caught in her throat, the sound building to a cry when two fingers pointedly pushed against her clit.

“Shh.” Softening the chastisement, he leaned in for a quick kiss. “We can’t have anyone interrupting us, can we?”

She shook her head. “I’ll be quiet.”

But when his fingers breached the fabric and trailed through the curls above her core to make contact with her pussy, that promise became arduous. Especially since he kept running his mouth, pushing her buttons with each filthy word.

“Ah, fuck. You’re drenched. Listen to that.” He skimmed his fingers through her folds, the sopping sound of her arousal unmistakable. “I can literally fucking hear it.”

“Travis, please,” she panted.

“Hmm?”

“Please.”

“Please, what?” he prompted.

Infuriating man. I’ll make him pay for this.

Until then, she had no choice but to beg. “My clit. Harder. Please.”

“Why the rush, baby?”

She gritted her teeth and seethed, “Because we’re in a goddamn public restroom, and I haven’t had sex in months, that’s why.”

Finally, his fingers found the bundle of nerves and applied pressure. She bit her bottom lip to suppress a moan, her head falling to rest on his shoulder as he rubbed firm circles against her clit.

He clucked his tongue in disapproval. “Months, huh? Poor thing.”

“Don’t start.”

A husky laugh answered her before he suddenly switched their positions. Her skirt dropped when he whirled her around, plastering the front of his body against her back. They locked eyes in the mirror over the sink, and the reason for this adjustment somehow registered in her lust-addled brain.

A seductive command tickled her ear. “Watch us.”

Like at the bar, the looking glass offered a deeper level of connection. It was a tool to pull back their layers. To create cracks in their facades. To strip them both bare.

Not to mention it was hot as hell, and she shivered at the prospect of watching him work her over.

“Mind that skirt,” he whispered.

She devised a quick solution, tucking the bottom of the skirt into her waistband to keep her hands free.

He raised an impressed eyebrow. “How resourceful.”

Instead of burrowing his hand beneath her panties again, he guided the fabric down her trembling legs. Grateful for his steady form behind her, she stepped out of them and then gasped when he hooked his elbow behind her right knee and placed her foot on the lid of the wastebasket, fully exposing her pussy in the mirror.

It was obscene.

She loved it.

His index finger teased her slickness, brushing over her clit before lightly tapping it. The visual in the mirror, coupled with the soft pats against her sensitive bud, drove her wild. Then two fingers plunged deep, stretching her tightness, and she thrashed with abandon.

“Oh fuck,” she cried out, her heart knocking against her ribs. “Oh fuck, Travis.”

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