Page 62 of Let Me Say It Again

He moved closer and hovered his large body over mine, making me lie back down, my eyes focused on his comforting ones. “Is that so?” he pushed, his hands fisted at my sides, blocking me in. Not that I’d want to go anywhere. For the first time in my life, I could honestly say that I was exactly where I wanted to be.

The clock would strike midnight, but a girl had to have some fun before then, right? Could you blame me? A man like Red deserved to be taken care of, and I knew exactly how to do that.

My gaze firm on his, I wedged my hand between us and stroked his erection through his pants. “This needs to be dealt with, and I’m not dry fucking again if that’s what you were thinking,” I said, my hand stroking him faster.

“Keep stroking me like that, and I might come in my pants again,” he croaked.

Taking back the control, he pulled on the bottom of my shirt and brought it up. I helped him, ducking my head so he could reveal my breasts. I wasn’t wearing a bra, so they had his attention and shook as he jolted my body, quickly pulling my shirt off over my head and disposing of it on the floor.Good riddance.I imagined if I was with a man like Red for real, I would never want to be dressed. I’d walk around the house naked twenty-four seven. It would drive him up a wall, of course, and we’d end up having mad sex, our raging hormones bouncing off the walls. Now that was a relationship I could get on board with.

Matching him move for move, I reached for the hem of his muscle tank, but then caught sight of his eyes penetrating me, practically boring a hole right through me. He was watching, watching me strip him, watching me take what I wanted, unapologetically watching me.

I’d been forthcoming. I was a force to be reckoned with in the bedroom, but I liked a man who could take charge, commanding me to do something and willing me to listen because it wasn’t an easy task. Remember, I wasn’t the best listener. I’d never been with a man yet who could do that and make it look as easy as stealing candy from a toddler.

I wasn’t going to change who I was for Red. If he wanted to be on top, he’d have to keep up. Metaphorically speaking, of course, because in the bedroom, I was always the one on top. Riding a man’s cock was the best form of exercise. Bikes were the old-fashioned way of getting cardio. Keep up with the times, that was what I said. Sex was the real way to stay alive. . . and feel alive.

“You change your mind, Jade?” Red asked, a hint of vulnerability in his voice that made me want to kiss him again. I wouldn’t do that, though.

No, I had a better idea.

I turned my lips up, and I didn’t need a mirror to know it was in a devious manner. I knew exactly what I was doing. “Not a chance.” Then, without further notice, I gripped his tank tightly with both hands and pulled, tearing it down the middle, the sharp sound of fabric shredding filling the air.

He didn’t even flinch, but my stomach bottomed out as I took in, arguably, the most spectacular view.

His physique was sinfully hot.

Broad chest.

Rippling muscles.

And then there was the V.

His sweatpants were hung low once again, showing off how his waist tapered into the most chiseled hips I’d ever laid my eyes on.

“Take off your pants,” he demanded, his voice stern, making my heart thump in my chest and a steady beat start in my pussy.

I did as he asked, never once peeling my eyes away from him.

He got off the bed and made a show of placing his thumbs in the waistband of his pants. “You ready?”

To see his dick? Yeah. Was there something I had to do to prepare? What was it, an iron dick? One made of fourteen-carat gold? I highly doubted it, so let’s see the damn thing already. I angled my head, giving him a hard time. “Not going to lie, I’ve waited so long to see it that I’m not sure it’s going to live up to the expectations I’ve made up for it in my head.”

Only smirking, he pulled down his sweatpants and stepped out of them, kicking them away from the foot of the bed in a hurry.

Okay. I was wrong.

Don’t go publicizing that or anything because I really didn’t like to make a habit of admitting I was wrong. That and apologizing were two of the worst mortal sins, in my opinion. I mean, geez, have a backbone. Don’t go apologizing every ten seconds. What a waste of oxygen and time. Say something and mean it, that was my motto.

But this was an exception.

A very big exception.

“Cat got your tongue?” he questioned, his smirk turning cockier by the second. Was that a pun? I didn’t even know, but I sure as hell didn’t intend for it to be.

I could barely function at the moment, my brain quite frankly short circuiting.

I’d go on record with this one. Ready for it?

Red’s was the biggest cock I’d ever seen.

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