Page 62 of Finance Bros

“Can I come back again sometime?”

He shrugs.

I think I understand what’s happening. I kissed his neck, but hesucked my cock.It’s the wholeI was hugging him and he said he loved meall over again. He thinks he got ahead of himself—that he showed his hand. He’s embarrassed. I can’t have that. Not again. Thisisn’tlike last time.

“Hey. Look at me.” I give him a shake, my hand moving from his waist to his hip. With the way he’s stretched out, my thumb grazes a slip of exposed skin, and I feel a ridge of oblique muscle that makes my heart thump harder. Jesus, he gets hotter by the second. I knew sexuality was a spectrum, but I didn’t expect it to be ajourney. This feels like being on a fast-moving train headed straight for the guy with the sword tattoo. “Are you good? Because I’m great. I promise.”

He hugs me, and it comes on quick. One second, I’m staringat him not staring at me, and the next, we’re in full frontal contact again. He holds me tight. I feel all his muscles clenching. I feel his rock hard cock jamming my abs, his hair covering my face. And then, there are his eyes again, a gentle touch lighting up my cheekbone, and his mouth on mine.

It’s barely a kiss, but I’m absolutely counting it. My lower lip is slotted in the crease between his, and he lingers there, like he’s letting me get used to it. I nip at him, a little like I did at his neck earlier, but with less lip. Less mess. His mouth caresses mine, closed and soft. We kiss like that repeatedly, and it should get old, but really doesn’t. I love it. I love it so much, I never want to stop.

But then it gets a little wetter. He’s barely opening his mouth, but it makes a huge difference, and I love this way fucking more. I let my lips part and actually kiss his mouth like I was kissing his neck. “Mal,” he whispers with an urgency I’m not feeling, but makes my dick react.

“Don’t stop, please.”

“Fuck.Mal…” He opens my mouth with his and sweeps his tongue across the surface of mine.

I grip the waistband of his jeans and hang on because my body responds to this kiss like someone just turned on my ignition. I roar to life, taking every inch of space between us and my own taste of his tongue.

I get what the urgency was about now. He was warning me. He was trying to let me know he was about to take me the fuck apart. Maybe he thought I wouldn’t let him? But if there’s a line I was thinking about crossing earlier, I am fucking leaping over it now. I give him whatever he wants, opening for him, tousling with him, leaning in when he sucks me closer. His teeth get involved, tugging at my lower lip and making me hurt for him. Our bodies rub and rock together as the kiss goes from dirty to fucking filthy.

There are strands of saliva, tongues in mid-air, pornographic grunts and a full takedown of the mask I’ve always worn while I clutch at him, begging without words for more andeverything.

He breaks back on a harsh breath, his cock hard against my own, and his body shakes—almost like it did when he was laughing earlier, but the sound he makes isn’t anything like a laugh.

He’s coming. He’s fuckingcoming,and I am elated. High off the fact that my gratitude grope was a huge success, but still sorry about the pants he didn’t want to mess up.

He doesn’t seem to care, though. He’s already kissing me again, and I’m right back in it. I amnotgoing to makethisweird.Thishas to happen again. Soon. Honestly, I don’t see any reason for it to stop.

He’s slowing down, though. His grip on me is loosening. I get it, I do. I got my hug and then some, but he’s gotta be second-guessing everything. I flipped our life script on him tonight, and while it might make perfect sense to me, I haven’t exactly given him a thorough explanation.

When he pulls away, I lean in and give him one final kiss. “That was like…the best thing that’s ever happened to me,” I tell him.

He groans, putting his hand over his eyes. “Shut up, Mal.”

“Seriously,” I say.

He shakes his head, refusing to accept the praise or the compliment or whatever this is bursting from my chest that needs to be acknowledged. He needs space.

“I’m going,” I tell him. “I promise.”

“It doesn’t feel like it.”

“No, I’ll show myself out and let you change your pants in peace.”

He nearly smiles.

“And I’ll see you tomorrow,” I say. “At work.”

He nods without taking his hand off his face.

“I might record some content after I take a shower,” I tell him.

“Make sure Stephanie looks wet, too.”

I laugh because that’s a funny idea. She looks ridiculously tiny when she’s had a bath.

“You should do one, too…after I post mine.”

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