Page 33 of The Pucking Proposal

I move in front of her knees, caging her in with a hand planted to the counter on either side of her hips, and lean closer. I drop my eyes to her lips, ready to taste her.

Finally.

I’ve been waiting for this. Watching her every night, talking to her, sharing with her ... and finally, I’m going to feel her skin the way I imagine doing.

Her hand lands on the center of my chest, stopping me. “No. I don’t date athletes.”

It’s ice on the fire inside me that hasn’t cooled, but merely morphed from anger to desire. “Why?”

I expect her to say it’s something to do with her brother, or my friendship with him, but she doesn’t even give me that. “Not up for discussion,” she says firmly. “I’m not sharing that.”

“But you’ll share your orgasms?” I snap.

She shrugs, looking down between us. My hips are less than an inch from her knees. I could push them apart and plant myself between her thighs to let her feel exactly what she does to me. “If that’s what you want.”

She pushes me away and I let her, so confused that I can’t find words to argue with her. She draws out the temptation, lifting a long leg, and places her foot on the counter to spread her thighs, giving me a look and daring me to walk away. I cross my arms over my chest and pretend I’m a statue, immovable and made of stone. Part of me definitely is.

Not getting the reaction she expected, she says haughtily, “You can watch. That’s it.”

She’s wrong. This isn’t some meaningless jacking off. But if that’s all she’s comfortable with, I’m not strong enough to say no because this is progress. We’re in the same room. I never thought I’d have to go at a snail’s pace for a woman, but if that’s the game Joy wants, then I’ll fucking play along like a good boy.

I curl my lip. “Take your shirt off,” I answer roughly. “I want to see all of you.”

She traces a fingertip down the center of her chest. “You saw yesterday.”

I did. When we FaceTimed, she was nude and so was I. We progressed to that stage several sessions ago, and her body is the sole star of my dreams and fantasies. “I want both the quali-titty, and the quanti-titty.”

I smirk, impressed with my wordplay. She’s good at it, but two can play this game, though I wish the fuck we weren’t playing at all.

Her hands drop to the hem of her shirt, and she pulls it over her head. “Does that mean you like them?” She looks down at her breasts, cupping and kneading them, and then glances up at me through her lashes, pleased as hell with the way she’s driving me crazy.

“They’re perfect,” I bite out, angry about the flawlessness of her hard, pink nipples and more-than-a-handful size.

Her hand drifts down her belly to her center, brushing over her clit, and she sighs in satisfaction.

She’s fucking enjoying this. Fine, if that’s the way she wants it, so be it.

I drop to my knees in front of her, spreading my thighs wide to give my cock a little room because it’s actively being strangled by my jeans. Her glazed eyes follow me down as I put myself eye level with her pussy. “If this is all I get, I want a front-row seat. Let me see you, Joy.”

Her hand stills as she peers into my eyes.

She’s punishing me for making her jealous by talking to Everly earlier, though I didn’t give a shit about her. She was a fan who wanted a picture, nothing more. Well, she might’ve flirted a bit, but I didn’t reciprocate. Hell, I was downright surly to her, not that Joy seemed to notice. But this is more than punishment too. Joy’s putting up walls between us, even as she lets me get closer.

When I don’t budge, she begins touching herself again. Her pink-tipped fingers circle over her entire core, then dip down to her entrance, coming back up glistening with her arousal. She spreads it over her clit, moaning as she moves faster and faster, building her pleasure while I stare, transfixed.

“I want to taste you so damn bad,” I mutter.

She doesn’t hesitate in holding her fingers out to me and I suck them greedily, glad to finally have her taste on my tongue. I’ve imagined it, fantasized about it, wondered if she’d be sweet, and now I know, she’s uniquely Joy.

And I’m an instant addict.

“Mmm,” I moan around her fingers, licking every bit clean. Her mouth has dropped open, her eyes locked on where her fingers disappear into my mouth, and I take advantage of her obvious liking for it, teasing my tongue along the pads of each fingertip, nibbling gently at her flesh, and coating them in my saliva so that when she touches herself again, it’s with a part of me as her lubrication. I release her fingers, guiding them back to her pussy. “Touch yourself. Show me how you like to be touched, and let me hear you come.”

“Fuuuck,” she groans as her head falls back and her hand blurs over her clit. She’s not teasing herself any longer. She’s a woman on a mission, and she knows how to get herself there better than anyone.

I watch, memorizing every move because though she’s not ready for more tonight, eventually, she will be. And when that happens, I want to be worth the risk because whatever’s holding her back is a strong deterrent, and I’m gonna have to fight for the opportunity to get inside her defenses to fuck her.

Spasms rack through her body as she arches hard. Even her toes curl on the counter as she explodes.

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