Page 91 of Two Guys, a Girl, and a Tripod

Reluctantly breaking contact, Brody pulls me by the waist into the kitchen. He laughs when I shoot a disappointed look toward the bedroom.

“I’m determined to actually feed you this time.”

“If you insist,” I mutter, a smile playing on my lips.

Brody nods, his hands still on my waist.

“I do. Pizza ok?”

I barely register the two slices I devour or the movie that Brody puts on while we sit on the couch to eat. I can’t keep my thoughts focused on anything other than him. Natalie would be so disappointed in me, but what she doesn’t know won’t hurt me.

When I stand to take my plate to the kitchen, Brody doesn’t hesitate to follow. He rinses our plates and dries his hands on the towel beside the sink before turning to me.

“I was thinking about dessert.” His voice isn’t as light and casual as it was when I arrived.

“Oh?” I squint, studying him while one corner of my mouth lifts in amusement. “What did you have in mind?”

“I’ll give you three guesses.” He steps forward and, with the towel still in his hands, he brings them up and over my head, then uses it to pull me toward him.

“I’m only going to need one, aren’t I?” I giggle, allowing my body to press entirely against his.

In answer, Brody lowers his lips to mine, softly dragging them back and forth with just a hint of contact.

“You just taste so fucking good,” he growls. It sends a shiver down my spine, heat already coiling in my center.

“I think that’s the pizza,” I hear myself murmur against his mouth and feel his lips spread into a smile against mine.

“I didn’t mean your mouth.”

Before I have a chance to process what is a particularly smooth line, Brody backs me up, dropping the towel that was still holding me to him. His hands slide down my sides, heat exploding at every point of contact. He glances up at me when his fingers hook into the waist of my skirt, silently asking for my consent, and I nod. The fabric is pulled to the floor and I step out of it, hearing Brody groan. I didn’t bother with underwear.

“God damn.” He leans in, pressing a kiss against the flesh between my thighs.

Readjusting, he lifts his hands to the backs of my legs just above my knees. He hoists me onto the counter in one fluid motion and I gasp. I have to grab his shoulders to keep myself from falling backward onto the raised half of the counter behind me.

“Brody!” I’m not a squeaker, but I have never been lifted onto a counter–and so easily, too. He chuckles, the sound rumbling deep within his chest, as he cages me in. His hands on either side of my thighs, Brody leans forward to place a gentle kiss on my forehead. If I wasn’t wet before, I certainly am now. The man is still taller than me by a head while I’m seated on the counter.

“Isn’t this a little counterproductive?”

“You think so?” Brody steps between my thighs and I spread them as wide as possible, my skin catching on the smooth granite. He doesn’t look down, instead reaching around to grab my ass, massaging the cheeks.

“I do.”

Brody hums, sounding satisfied with himself, before slowly dropping to his knees. He presses his hands against the insides of my legs, keeping me open for him. His eyes arezeroed in on the spot where my thighs meet. With the extra weight on my body, my pussy still isn’t visible, but I’m sitting just on the edge. All I have to do is-

“Lean back, Sophie,” he breathes. When I hesitate, Brody stares up at me, the green of his eyes almost covered by his very dilated pupils. “Please.”

That tone, the desperation–I can’t react fast enough. The counter is cool beneath my hands as I lean back until I have to rest my elbows on the raised counter behind me. Brody doesn’t follow me down, those green eyes staring, studying my body while it’s bared before him.

“I know this is the most beautiful sight you’ve ever laid eyes on, but I need you to touch me.”

He crouches and doesn’t hesitate to act, his warm breath on my now bare pussy. I can’t see if it’s his lips or his tongue, but his touch is so light that I whimper, wanting more.

“Patience.” Brody’s muffled voice floats to my ears and I try to keep still. “We have all night. All weekend if we want.”

Another shiver runs down my spine when Brody latches onto my clit. The sensation forces a curse from my lips and he keeps my legs apart while he feasts. He laps at my center like he’s starving and I’m his first meal in months. He uses his teeth to rake across the most sensitive areas and I whimper and whine. His grip, tight on my legs, keeps me from moving, despite my efforts to follow his mouth with my hips.

“Brody, please,” I beg again. The orgasm is building, but he’s purposely keeping it at bay, not giving me what he knows I need to tumble over the edge.

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