Page 15 of Play With Me

“I see. So the hunters have become the haunted?”

“It’s not funny.”

“Sorry, I just can’t help finding the irony in your situation.” She lowered her hand to my chest and dragged her hand provocatively over my pecs. “Also, I never thought that hearing a man say he still lived with his mom could sound sexy.”

“Sexy?”

“Yeah, like you’re this boy who’s about to get lucky for the first time, and he’s trying to figure out how to sneak his girlfriend into the house so that she can give him a lesson in anatomy.”

A boy?

It was time to remind Lola that comparing me to a boy was inexcusable. I crushed my lips to hers, stealing her breath, plunging my tongue deep into her mouth. Her chest rose and fell quickly when we separated, and she could barely breathe. Lola lost her balance for a moment but steadied herself by grabbing hold of my arm. Hopefully thatboycomment was long gone from her mind. She kept blinking over and over. Her lips parted, and she appeared to be in shock.

“What I’m trying to tell you is that I’m not inviting you over because there isn’t much space or privacy at the house. Everybody’s there, including my divorced parents who hate each other.”

She swallowed hard and came closer. Her hand lowered to my zipper and she cupped her palm over the area, massaging up and to the right along my dick. I could feel it swelling at an incredible speed, aroused by the warmth of her hand. “That’s interesting. Well, we can stand here and explore the topic of your parents’ hatred, or we can do something different.”

She was teasing me, paying me back for that kiss, and testing the limits of my patience. She wanted to flip the tables on me. Lucky for her I had a lot of patience. Raising a six-year-old had taught me to control my emotions, but I wasn’t about to waste precious time with the woman I wanted to sink into when I was certain she would likely wake up in the middle of the night and leave my bed.

“Shut up and make me an offer I won’t reject, Lola.” I swiftly lowered my hand to her stomach and slid it right down to her crotch, squeezing past her tight jeans and grasping her pussy with my full palm, rubbing the ball of my hand over her panties and the heating mound.

Standing on a dark sidewalk, protected by the night’s shadows and looking at her from above, I felt a desperate need to have her in my arms.

“We could go to my place,” she offered.

“As long as I get to play with you for a while, beautiful, I’m game.”

Her breaths were heavy and hot. She blinked rapidly and then closed her eyes as I rubbed two fingers over her heated spot.

“Let’s not waste time on poetic words.”

She swallowed hard, reached up, and raked her fingers tantalizingly slowly through my hair, as if my rubbing her weren’t affecting her at all. “Besides, I have scissors there, and you look like you need a haircut.”

Stalling tactics?

I could play her game. I bet I could play it way better than she did. I moved my fingers past the elastic band of her panties, and she stilled. Her breath shortened. My fingers dragged her dripping need, spreading it over her flesh, gently prodding and withdrawing from her pussy right in the middle of the deserted street. I leaned down to her ear, the extra growth on my chin and cheeks scratching against her soft and appetizingly aromatic skin, and I whispered, “I couldn’t agree with you more.”

I withdrew from her panties just before she impaled herself on my curious middle finger. A whimper of regret left her lips. She swallowed hard, and I shamelessly adjusted my hard dick before pulling my finger underneath my nose, taking a whiff of her essence and licking it off.

She concealed her longing form me with and amused smile.

“Maybe if you’re a good boy, I’ll give you a shave, too.” Her seductive whisper was like a drug, and I couldn’t wait to get high. I couldn’t get enough of her.

She waved for a cab down the street. Had the asshole been standing there the whole time I was petting her, and I hadn’t noticed? Lola tucked herself underneath my arm, and I let it go. The urgency to relieve the increasing swell underneath my zipper was more important.

We took the cab to her house on Long Island, and I wondered how a girl like her could have lived so close to where my house used to stand, and I had not run into her. The taxi drove past a gate and down a woven path until we arrived at a one-story home neatly nestled behind a perfectly landscaped front yard. I paid the cabbie and stepped out. As soon as he left, I took her hand and pointed to the front door.

“This is your house?”

“Yup. What were you expecting?”

“Honestly?”

“Please.”

“An apartment or a condo.”

“I don’t like those. They feel confining. This is my personal piece of heaven, and I like it here.”

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