Page 50 of Stick Work

“I can’t seem to get off with my fingers.”

I fucking love her honesty. “You don’t seem to have any problem getting off with mine.”

Her body quakes. “Why don’t you show me how you do that again.”

“Lessons?” I tease.

“Lessons…”

The need in her voice prompts me into action and I move my hands to the band on her yoga pants. I tug, and follow them down, until I’m kneeling on the floor. I tap her leg and she lifts it. I pull her pants free, and tap her other leg, repeating the process.

Grazing the strap on her thong panties, I stand back up and tug on them until they’re pressing against her clit. She moans and wiggles and I pull my cock free, trapping it between her sweet ass cheeks.

I slide my hand between her legs and pull the material to the side to give me access to her wet pussy. “You just roll your fingers around your clit like this, sweet girl.” I play with her clit, teasing it until it’s swollen and my mouth waters for a taste. “Then with your other hand, you can slide a finger in just like this.” She moans louder as I dip a thick finger inside her, drenching my finger. Jesus. Her walls close around me and when I pump in and out, circling the sensitive bundle of nerves inside, she begins to ripple.

“Oh yes, just like that.”

“But don’t worry, next time I’m away, I’ll make sure your nightstand here is well stocked, and maybe we can even have a video sex chat.”

She laughs. “Yes, I’d like that.” A beat and then, “But I really liked just talking this week too. It was really nice.”

My heart swells because she’s right. It really was nice. The sex is great—fantastic, actually. But the quiet times as we’re both drifting off to sleep, being able to hear her soft voice when I’m miles away—might even be better than sex.

“Me too, babe. Me too.” As her body begins to shake, I pump a little faster, wanting her sweet juices dripping down my arm. I apply pressure to her clit and play with the sensitive bundle of nerves inside until she’s chanting my name and her body is breaking around my finger.

“Yeah, that’s it, sweet girl. Come for me, just like that.”

Her heat floods from her body and she doesn’t disappoint as it drips down my forearm. She’s such perfection it boggles my fucking mind. I keep my finger inside her until her tremors slow and once they do, I grip my dick, spread her sweet cheeks to spread her pussy wide and power into her hot wet center.

“Ohmigod,” she cries out, and I give her a second to catch her breath. The second she does she pushes back, encouraging me to continue and continue I do. I fuck her, giving her every inch until my crown hits her cervix, but yet I still can’t get deep enough.

“Elias,” she cries out as she comes, and hearing my name on her tongue, hearing the need and warmth as she says it, brings on my orgasm. With one hand still between her legs, I press the other to her back and release high inside her, so thankful we don’t have to use condoms anymore.

We pant together and after a long moment a chuckle rumbles in her throat. I smile, loving how happy she is. Sliding my arm around her I lift her until her back is pressed against my chest. “You are amazing, sweet girl,” I whisper into her ear.

She wiggles. “You’re not so bad yourself, sweet boy.”

I laugh. “No one has ever called me that before.”

She turns and taps my nose. “Well, that’s what you are.”

“Tell no one.”

She laughs and presses a kiss to my mouth. “All the secrets. Let’s just hope we don’t implode.”

I can’t deny that I am worried about that, but for now, I have other things on my mind. “How about a shower and we go shopping.”

She squeals. “Yes, I’ve been excited to get out of the house. All I’ve been doing is going to school and studying.”

“And thinking of me,” I tease.

She smiles. “And thinking of you.”

We make our way upstairs, and shower quickly. Once we’re dressed, we head outside and Taylor zips her coat up to her chin as a cool breeze races down the street. “Why again did you ever leave California? You could have had a great political career there.”

“Hockey…I had to follow my dreams.”

She frowns, her gaze dropping. Clearly something about my words have hit a nerve, but before I can ask, she brightens up and changes the subject. “What color is your suit for the wedding? I think we should match.”

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