Page 59 of Plum

I laugh, drop my boxers, and carefully crawl next to her, cupping her right tit and dropping a kiss on the pebbling nipple. “I love this tit. It’s one of my two favorites.”

She snorts. “You’ve got the worst lines. I don’t see how you ever got laid before.”

“I’m rich and fit and insanely good looking.”

“And humble.”

I nibble a path down her belly, easing her pants and panties over her hips and gently pull them off, careful of her ankle. Then I rewrap her ice pack in a towel and replace it. When she seems comfortable, I kiss a line back up to her tits and rest my head on her warm, soft belly.

It takes a minute, but eventually, her fingers tentatively wind through my hair, and my breath catches. Here’s my girl; here’s the sweet, fierce woman hidden under the hard-ass exterior. I want to coax her out, make her forget to hide.

I nip at her belly pudge. It’s nothing, the kind of natural padding that my mother and her circle have vacuumed off by plastic surgeons because there’s no number of crunches that’ll tone it away. Jo-Beth yips, sucks it in, and slaps at my head.

I chuckle. “Leave me alone. I’m loving on your chub.”

“You want me to love on your chub, you’d best stop,” she grumbles, wriggling, and fuck, her skin feels so good against me. I nuzzle my cheek against her bare belly, inhale the scent of her arousal. She stills, playing with my hair, stroking her fingers down my neck, across my shoulders.

“How come you’re so in shape if you work at a desk all day?” She’s tracing the muscles in my back, and I can’t help but flex for her.

“Boxing. Crossfit. Crew.”

“What’s crew?”

“It’s where you row. On the river. I’m the stroke.”

“What’s the stroke?”

“The guy who sits all the way in the back of the boat.”

“You got any ambition to work your way up?”

I laugh, and she squirms, ticklish. “The stroke sets the pace. He’s the best rower.”

“You know when you’re bragging, you got to do it in terms I understand, right?”

“Yes, ma’am.” My cock is throbbing, and this is so sweet, but I want more. I rise over her, gaze down into her face, my knee nudging at her uninjured leg, gently urging her to open for me. “How’s the ankle?”

“Aches.” She runs her hands over my chest, testing those muscles. Her eyes are a hazy blue, and the corners of her lips are ever so slightly turned up. She’s fucking beautiful.

“Do you think you can take my cock?” I sip at her lips, slip my fingers between her folds. She’s wet. Soaking. I knew she had to be from the musky scent that’s driving me wild. I play with her clit, spread her cream over her lips, stroke a finger into her hot hole.

“You got to be gentle.” Her breath has picked up, and she’s craning her neck to kiss me now. She’s bent her knee, and part of me wants to take in that pretty, pink pussy, but her face is too enchanting. Her eyes are big, rounded, and every feeling she has is clear as day. She wants me. She’s needy, impatient, but she feels good.

Her body rocks, her hips rise, seeking, demanding.

I feel like I’ve got the strength of a hundred men.

“Always, baby.” I notch my cock at her entrance, and she mewls, digging into my back with her little claws. I ease in, inch by inch, holding myself still while she arches her back, trying to draw me deeper.

I don’t know where the self-control is coming from. I circle her hard nub with my thumb, and she starts crying out, sweet, little grunts. Her eyes are closed, and she’s biting her lower lip.

I ease out, slip free, glide my wet cock over her stiff clit. It’s only then that I realize I haven’t put on a rubber. Fuck.

I freeze. She makes a sound I can only describe as a pissed off cat, and her eyes fly open.

“Baby, just one minute.” I rummage in my wallet, shoot a prayer of thanksgiving when I find the foil packet.

“What?” She blinks, confused.

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