Page 133 of The Chance

I shiver.

“I’m vers, baby.” He nips at my chin. “I’ll give twice as hard as I get.”

Goosebumps rush over my skin, excited nerves taking over my gut.

“That’s—holy shit, okay.”

Mac’s chuckle is deep and travels right over me, while his hands ease closer together.

Even over top of the denim, the feel of him teasing me shoots straight to my cock. The proximity of his fingersexciting.

This thing blossoming between usexhilarating.

“Yeah?”

I nod. “Doing it myself was awkward with the angle, but I liked it.”

The admission has his eyes flaring comically wide before they roll back, and his head drops backwards.

“Fuuuuck.” He drags me over his cock again. “Why’d you have to tell me thatnow.”

I smirk and smack a kiss to his jaw.

“Because you admitted that you’d like to do it for me.”

He groans.

“You goddamntease.”

I lick my lips and pop up from his lap.

His fully tented lap. The erection barely held back by the material; the waistband lifted from his skin.

Mine is in no better condition, but it means nothing to me when my sight zeroes in on the darker spot near the peak of his pitched shorts.

“Keep staring at me like a starved man, baby, and I’ll feed you your last meal.”

My cock flexes behind my zipper and I gulp.

“I … I have to go feed my cat.”

Mac blinks.

Then burst out laughing, a raucous and beautiful fucking sound.

God, I’ve missed it. Him.

This.

“Jesus, fuck, Tyro,” he says around the rumble and pinches the base of his cock through his shorts. It pulls the material even tighter, showing full outlines of the blunt head and my chuckle dies off.

He’s still shaking with mirth when he pushes to stand, his hand diving into his shorts and tucking his hard-on beneath the elastic.

It barely holds it back and my mouth waters.

“Let’s go get your fucking cat.”

Chapter Seventy-Eight

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