Page 168 of Collect the Pieces

“Hard for you,” I supply the words. “Yes. Yes, I am.”

She laughs, then gasps again.

“You like that?” I whisper, holding her gaze.

“I do.”

“Keep going. See if you can make yourself come grinding in my lap.” I sneak my hands under her sweatshirt and tug it up. “First, while this is cute, it needs to go.”

“Okay.” She keeps rolling her hips while I struggle with the sweatshirt.

“Ah, fuck. This is sexy.” I slide my finger under one strap of her sheer black bra.

“Jigsaw, I’m…” A little V forms between her eyebrows, and she lets out a frustrated grunt.

“Give it a minute, woman. I know my cock is magic but still.”

She laughs, rocking herself against me a littletoohard.

I hiss in a pained breath. “Not enough room in my pants for what you’re doing to me.”

“I’m sorry!” she yelps and slides back a few inches.

“It’s fine.” I dig my feet into the cushions and lift my hips. “Undo my jeans and take me out of my denim prison, please.”

“Those sexy black track pants should be mandatory when you’re with me,” she grumbles, attacking the button but carefully lowering the zipper. “Much easier access.”

My phone—firmly lodged somewhere inside my pocket—starts vibrating against my leg.

Who’s bothering me now?“Fuuuck,” I groan.

I have to slide down more and wedge my hand inside until my fingers finally find the edge of my phone, then drag it out.

The buzzing stops.

Missed call: Zero

I stare at the screen. Call my president back or give my girl her orgasms first? Maybe sneak one in for myself.

I set the phone on the side table. “Where were we?”

“Who was it?”

“Z.”

She raises her eyebrows. “Shouldn’t you call your president back?”

“You want your orgasm or not?”

Instead of answering with words, she reaches into my briefs and brushes her thumb against the head of my cock.

“Fuuuck, yes,” I groan. “He’ll call back or text if he needs me that bad.”

“Ineed you bad,” she says, curling her fingers around me.

“Yes, you do.”

My phone rattles against the table.

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