Page 22 of Cupid's Shot

“Sorry,” I breathe, knowing how cold my fingers are.

“Copping a feel, huh?” she says with a light laugh.

I open my eyes and see the sex blazing in hers. On an impulse, I trail my tongue down her neck and flick it around her nipple while I hold her breast.Her tits are amazing.I can’t believe she was braless all night.

“Mmm,” she moans, and her hand rubs me over my pants. “Um,” she breathes, “has anyone told you that you’re an amazing kisser?”

“Has anyone told you how sexy you are?” I squeeze her ass with both hands, lifting her off the ground.

“Let’s go upstairs,” she whispers.

“Next time,” I breathe, putting her back down. “I should go.” The ache is evident in my voice.

“You’re going to leave me like this?”

“Like what?” I tease, knowing what she means.

“Fucking hot and bothered.”

“Yes,” I say, staring into her hungry blue eyes.

“Second base, seriously?”

“I will more than make up for it next time.”

“Aaron,” she pleads, and I almost give in.

“I promise,” I say, pulling her in for a goodnight kiss. The kiss lingers, and I love how sweet it is. “May I leave?” I ask as she doesn’t move from the door.

She huffs.

“Frustrated. It’s too damn cute.” I kiss her again. “Goodnight, Sarah.”

“Goodnight, Aaron.”

19

Hot, bothered, and a little drunk, I walk up the stairs to the second-floor apartment I live in. My phone buzzes, and I take it out of my jacket pocket.

Aaron Olson

You are going to be on my mind all night.

Oh, really?

He’s having too much fun making me frustrated. He needs to be more frustrated. I throw my jacket to the floor and unbutton my pants, which are so snug after that meal. As I walk to my bedroom, a wicked idea comes to mind. Taking out my vibrator from my nightstand, I snap a picture of me kissing it and text it to Aaron.

Sarah Anderson

I didn’t get dessert, and I wanted it.

20

“Fuck,” I breathe, seeing this photo of Sarah.I need to take Friday night off of work.I’m more than half tempted to go back to her place. I guess I fumbled the dessert bit. I’ll make it up to her, though.

Tapping Nicholas’s name in my contacts, I know it’s late.

“How much would you hate me if I took Friday off?” I ask as he answers.

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