Page 65 of Hold Still

His heels rise off the concrete. “Here I am.” Reaching out, he grabs me by my waist and pulls me close.

See, no worries. “Yes, you are.” My hips rock toward his.

Maybe one more round before getting down to business? I grab the rounded globes of his ass beneath his shorts. He’s commando. His mouth covers mine and my thoughts scatter. I rub up and down against him, his cock jutting into my torso. If only I were taller.

“Damn,” he growls and walks us to a chaise lounge. Stepping back, he kicks off his sandals, glides his T-shirt over his head and pulls his shorts down his legs. Naked, he sits.

Looking down at him, my eyes travel from his hair to his sexy feet, feasting on his various piercings. Especially the one pointing at me. I swallow and he chuckles.

“Are you going to stand there and look, or are you going to make us both happy?”

“I vote for option B,” I reply, my voice throaty with desire.

He pats his thighs. “Good answer.”

Stepping out of my sandals, I place one foot next to the chair and swing my other one over him, then sit down on his powerful thighs. His arms come around me at once and pull me to his body. Our lips devour each other while his hands play with my breasts, then take off my top and bra.

Leaning back, I place my hands on his knees and arch upward. His strong hands make their way to the waistband of my leggings, which he shoves down. I move so he can toss them, together with my panties, over his shoulder. His mouth finds my boob while his finger swirls around my pussy.

My nipple falls from his mouth with a pop. “So wet for me. So perfect.”

Perfect. He thinks I’m perfect. His finger rubs my clit. “Oh.”

“I need to be inside you now.” He points to a foil packet so conveniently located on the table. Guess I was a foregone conclusion.

Jumping off his body to get the condom, he takes the packet from me and sheaths himself. His cock looks huge and angry and so ready for me. I want to ride him.

Turning my body to give him a view of my ass, I sink onto his cock with a groan. Behind me, he grunts, “Ride me.”

I give him a cheeky grin. “You read my mind.”

I raise and lower my body in a steady rhythm, one that drives us both wild. My body urges me on faster, but I keep this pace, enjoying the way he fills me to almost bursting. Looking back at him, his face is scrunched up with the effort my speed—or lack of it—provides.

His hands come to my waist and I face forward again. He pushes me faster, faster, faster and I willingly go. Soon, I’m racing toward the finish line. His hand comes around and twists my nipple, and a tingling buzzes from my center outward. I explode with a loud “Fuck.”

A strained laugh comes out of his mouth as he thrusts into my body. Squeezing my boob, he stiffens and then shouts, “Fuck, yes!”

His mouth contacts my back, kissing from one shoulder blade to the other all the while his fingers remain on my boobs. I squeeze him from inside since I don’t have access to any other part of his body.

“What are you doing to me, woman?” He collapses back onto the chair.

I stand and face him, knowing a goofy smile covers my face. “I could ask you the same question.” Taking in his relaxed features and hard body, heat travels up my neck and cheeks. I put that look on him.Me.

“Damn. If you don’t want a repeat performance in about five minutes, you’d better get dressed.”

Before I can consider my words, “Sounds good to me” tumbles out of my mouth.

He chuckles and in one swift move, comes to his feet, picks me up and tosses me into the pool. Spluttering to the surface, I shout, “Ozzy!”

Standing by the side of the pool, he laughs. Before I can do anything with my now wet hair and ruined makeup, he cannonballs in to join me. A wave hits me from the force of his entry, causing me to giggle like a schoolgirl.

Ozzy swims over to me and grabs my waist, pulling me into the deep end. Not ready to let reality interfere for another few minutes, I wrap my arms around his shoulders and hang on.

Leaning in, I whisper into his ear, “Think you can do a repeat, old man?” I roll my pelvis toward him.

“Who are you calling old?”

“Well, you are eight years older than me. If the shoe fits…”

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