Page 65 of Resisting the Running Back

“Are you…not wearing panties?” I ask, my voice hoarse and low.

A gleam lights up her eyes as she snags her bottom lip between her teeth. “Haven’t been all night, and I kept wondering when you’d make that discovery.”

“Jesus Christ,” I mutter, and my mouth falls back to hers as my fingers move down. I slide one finger into her, and she squeaks into my mouth. I shove that finger in again and again, grateful for the darkness, grateful for a little alcohol, grateful that I’m here with her.

She reaches over and runs her hand along the outside of my pants, and I shove my hard cock at her, the need for release tearing through me as we do this private act in a public space.

This isn’t me. I’ve never been the guy who fingers a girl in a dark booth in the corner of a club, but I’ve also never been with someone who ignites my passion the way Sophie does.

She drops her head to my shoulder, and she kisses the side of my neck as I hear her whispered pleas. “Oh God, Miller, yes, yes! I’m coming!”

Jesus. Her needy voice is low in my ear as she rubs my cock, and I feel her sweet pussy drenching my hand is too much. It’s overwhelming in the best way, and I do everything I can to hold off the inevitable, but it’s impossible.

As I feel her pussy clench tightly around my finger and she comes on my hand, I lean down to kiss her, and then I give into the feel of her hand on the outside of my pants, rubbing me the way she is. I pull back and drop my head to lightly bite her shoulder as I start to come.

I growl near her ear as I rasp, “Fuck, Soph, you’re making me come so hard for you. I only wish I was inside you right now.”

She pulls back, surprised and definitely a little dazed as she rubs harder along my cock, and I close my eyes and lean myhead back on the booth as I give in to the sheer perfection of having this woman’s hands on me in any way I can get them.

“God, I want that again, too,” she murmurs near my ear as my body starts to slip into the warm tingling that comes with the euphoric feeling after a climax.

I sit up and open my eyes, and I lick the finger I just had inside her as her eyes zero in on what I’m doing.

“Did you just…?” she asks.

I nod and lean in toward her. “And it was fantastic.” I hold my finger up. “Want to try?”

She shakes her head. “No, but why is seeing you do it making me need sex with you immediately?”

I grab my whiskey. “Give me ten to fifteen minutes.”

She lets out a small chuckle. “What is it about you that I can’t get enough of?”

“My charm?”

“That and the cock,” she says.

God, I love her.

Is this perfection? Because it feels an awful lot like it.

CHAPTER 28: Sophie Summers

Finish What You Started

Is it fake?

Is it real?

We’re teetering some line in between where we’re both scared to admit it’s more than something casual because of how that could impact the friendship that’s so important to both of us, but I think it’s safe to say there’s no going back to how things were before.

So for now…does it matter? Do we have to define it?

My heart doesn’t want to. My gut says we don’t. So I’m sticking with that.

For now.

I’m also sticking to the addiction that is Miller Banks. Good Lord, he’s good with his hands. His cock. His mouth. His body.

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