Page 17 of Playboy

She rolls those pretty blue eyes at me again. “Thanks for dinner,” she says, her tone softer now as she starts to head for the stairs.

Fuck. There’s no way I’ll let the night end yet. Even if I don’t get to touch this woman, this has been the best night I’ve had in as long as I remember—laughing, teasing and talking, taking shots, flirting—and I’m not ready for it to end.

I reach for her hand before she can get past me and tug her closer. She doesn’t wobble even a little. Thank fuck. If she were drunk, I wouldn’t even attempt to put a hand on her. “Hot tub?”

She assesses me, her eyes bouncing between mine and my lips, and then she bites her own. “Okay, give me a few. I’ll meet you in there.”

Once I’ve located my swim trunks and toiletries, I head into the bathroom. When I come out again, the house is still quiet. The moon is bright tonight, illuminating the interior well enough that I don’t need to turn on lights to find my way to the French doors that lead to the back deck.

From here, the view of the craggy mountain landscape is incredible. Outside, I’m greeted by a peaceful quiet, the only sound the low hum of the covered hot tub. A check of the temperature reveals it’s already a warm 105. Perfect. Nothing feels quite as good as a soak in a hot tub after a long practice or a tough game. Except sinking inside a beautiful woman, but that’s not on the agenda tonight.

All I want is a little more time with Hannah.

I’m just easing into the bubbling water when my girl appears, an oversized robe hiding her petite curves.

“That looks ridiculously amazing,” she says as she undoes the knot at her waist.

Arms spread, I watch her every move, knowing that’s exactly what she wants.

Hannah is a woman meant to be stared at. A work of art, the lines of which don’t follow any of the rules. Like a Monet, the longer a person stares, the more depth they find.

As the robe slips from her shoulders, my heart stumbles in my chest. I suck in a breath. “That is not a swimsuit.”

She looks down at it, a look of faux innocent shock on her face. “It’s not?”

I roll my lips and bite down hard. “No, dream girl, it’s not.”

She’s testing my patience. The skimpy slip of fabric barely covers her pussy and the little triangles do nothing to hide the pebbled nipples beneath them.

When she steps up onto the stairs and leans forward to slip into the hot tub, tipping her ass in my face, I have to fight the urge to grab my own cock to ease the ache.

“I think it’s perfectly respectable,” she says coyly as she slides a thumb beneath the string across her hip and lets it go with a loud smack against her skin.

I expect her to sink into the water across from me. Figure she’ll taunt me a bit more, maybe even strip beneath the bubblesand make me cry when she forces me to close my eyes as she gets out.

But Hannah is the definition of unexpected. I should have known better. As soon as she enters the water, she slips beneath the surface, then comes back up like a fucking literal dream, dark hair slicked back, water dripping down her gorgeous face, her lips pressed into the perfect pout. And then she climbs onto my lap and rolls that tiny bikini-covered pussy over my aching cock.

“I was promised an orgasm.”

I dig my fingers into the edge of the hot tub, holding on for dear life. If I let go, I’ll grab her hips and roll her over me until she comes.

But it’s not time.

Heart thundering, I focus on stringing a coherent sentence together. “And you want me to give it to you?”

Lip caught between her teeth, she drags her gaze down my body and then back up again. “Not sure yet. I don’t give just anyone a shot at it.”

I chuckle. “I see. So you want to make sure I know what I’m doing first?”

Hannah’s lips tip up in a slow, delicious smile. “Now you get what I’m saying.”

I nod. “Well, oral is a lost art, so yeah, I get it.”

Brows lowering, she rears back a little. “What did you say?”

I shake my head. Now is not the time to talk about Calliope. I can’t imagine the woman on my lap wants to hear about how another woman taught me how to eat pussy so well that her eyes will roll to the back of her head.

The tutorial came from an article, not from a hands-on experience, but still. Not where we’re going with this.

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