Page 48 of Callahan

And man, did he know how to kiss. The perfect combination of tongue, soft bites, and lips. I’d never been with a man who turned me on this much simply by kissing me.

His cock was pressed exactly where I needed it, and I found myself rocking against his bulge while cursing the clothing barrier between us.

I wanted him to fuck me right there on my kitchen counter and clung tighter to him, hoping to convey that without actually having to say the words.

His hands roved up my sides to cup my breasts, and I froze.

Nothing would scream “not sexy” like my boobs leaking milk as if I was some sort of dairy cow. I’d already been worried I’d lactate just by getting aroused, but I knew all bets would be off if he squeezed my nipples.

He immediately dropped his hands and stepped back with a worried expression. I’d had to fight the urge to press my thighs together to keep his cock in place like a wanton woman.

“Did I hurt you?”

I decided the only plausible explanation why I’d reacted that way was the truth.

“No, I’m worried I’m going to leak milk.”

I reached for his arm to pull him back to me, but he took another step back and rubbed the back of his neck.

“We shouldn’t be doing this. You’re Shawn’s girl.”

“Shawn died,” I reminded him. “We’re not cheating.”

He shook his head.

“I’m so sorry. I took advantage of you. You were vulnerable and I—”

“And now I’m turned on!” I blurted out. “And you’re going to stop?”

I could see his dick was still hard beneath his jeans, so I knew I wasn’t the only one who wanted this.

Then I realized the real reason he must have brought things to a halt.

The idea of my boobs leaking milk grossed him out.

He replied, “I shouldn’t have—”

Humiliated, I held up my hand and hopped off the counter.

“Save it. I’m sorry my milky boobs repulsed you.”

His eyes narrowed and his voice seemed to go down an octave. “What are you talking about?”

I walked past him toward the living room, intent on going to my bedroom to change my ruined panties. As far as I was concerned, this conversation was over. I couldn’t handle any more embarrassment.

He grabbed my elbow and spun me around.

“Lainey, answer me. What are you talking about?”

I defiantly yanked my arm back, then planted a hand on my hip when I retorted, “I think my statement was pretty self-explanatory.”

“You think I stopped because I was worried about a little milk?”

“It seems pretty convenient that you developed a conscience right when I mentioned my fear about my boobs leaking.”

He took a step closer, so he towered over me.

“Are you kidding? I think that’s erotic as hell. I feel like a fucking pervert for getting hard every time you feed Conor in front of me.”

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