Page 86 of The Import Slot
As soon as my fingers find her clit, I feel her shiver beneath me. She’s fucking soaking, and I love it; my middle finger glides around her clit with ease, circling and circling. She lets out an almost silent sigh, and I pick up the pace, building her climax. Without warning, she grips my left hand tightly and buries her face in my neck, inhaling deeply.
“That was fast,” I whisper to her, and I feel her nodding, a smile on her lips. She doesn’t meet my eyes. She shies away, which is adorable. I pull my hand out, and she watches me slip my fingers into my mouth. Fuck, she tastes good.
“I want more,” I whisper, but she wriggles, letting me know she’s too sensitive. My cock strains in my sweats, and she gives it a teasing rub from outside before doing her pants up.
“You’re crazy,” she whispers.
“Yeah, about you,” I say, the cheesiest line ever, but I can’t help myself. “Come home with me?”
“I can’t. I need to get in as early as possible tomorrow. I’ve got so much work on.”
I’m disappointed, but I understand. It’s probably for the best, considering I’ve got an impromptu practice. Thanks to Johnny.
She falls asleep and only wakes when the coach pulls into the parking lot of the rink. It’s crazy early, or late, and everyone is quiet and lethargic, exhaustion taking over as we silently file off. I honestly don’t know why they don’t fork out for a hotel.
Still, it’s probably a good thing for Danny because when we pull into the parking lot of our apartment building, Becca’s car is parked in the back row. Her attempt at being inconspicuous is laughable. Jen gives me a knowing glance, and we both smirk.
Jen says goodbye to me, Danny and Johnny and heads into her building just as Vicky appears.
“Thank fuck, that’s over,” Danny says with relief as we step into the elevator, followed by Johnny.
He pushes the button for the eighth floor and the elevator springs into action before shuddering to a stop; the lights flickering on and off.
“For the love of Christ!” Johnny shouts, kicking the doors.
“That isn’t going to fix it, John,” I say, pulling him back.
As if this night could get any worse.
He reaches out and presses the bell on the keypad of the elevator control.
“I think we’re stuck,” Danny says.
“No shit,” says Johnny.
By the looks of it, we’re between floors four and five and can hear voices outside. Johnny’s finger is still on the button, and Danny is shouting. I slump down on the floor, my head between my knees.
“Who’s in there?” a voice says.
“Oh, is that you, Hutch?” Danny shouts to the door.
“Oh fuck, are you guys stuck?” Hutch calls back.
“Nah, we’re just chilling, mate,” Danny says. “Get help, for fuck’s sake. I need a piss.”
“Who do I call?” Hutch asks.
“Johnny’s pressing the buzzer. There’s a telephone number too.” But the door is being pried open, and Bettsy and Hutch come into view, just at the top of the doors.
“Just climb out,” Bettsy says, reaching his hand in.
“Nah, I ain’t climbing out of there. I’ve seen Resident Evil,” Danny says.
I can’t say I blame him because I’m pretty fond of my legs.
“No one’s climbing out of the goddamn elevator,” I yell. “Read out that number,” I tell Johnny, tapping it into my phone, and hitting dial. The line rings and rings and cuts off. “No answer. I’ll keep trying.”
“Hutch, you’ll have to help me out here, mate. Get me something I can piss in.”
