Page 1 of Mr. Picture Perfect
Prologue
Cole
I would never have predicted such a beast lived inside him.
Did I unleash this? Or did the beast always exist?
The once sweet and innocent Noah has taken the lead with no coaxing or pushing at all, kissing me so deeply, I cannot breathe. The same Noah who could barely squeak a syllable out around me without blushing. Noah, the boy who had never so much as kissed another guy, now straddling me and going to town on my mouth.
Then he pulls away and whispers, “Is this alright?”
I stare up at his face. When did his glasses come off? “Are you kidding me?” I breathe back.
“Is that a yes?” he asks.
“Yes. It’s a resounding yes.”
“Good.” When he crashes back down upon my mouth, the kiss intensifies. He grinds his body into mine, flattening me to the seat.
Driver’s seat.
Yes, that’s where we are.
In the driver’s seat of my car, parked in front of his house in the middle of the night where anyone in town, including his sweet and adoring parents who are sleeping peacefully inside said house, can easily find us.
I was not aware of exactly how pent-up I am.
I have wanted this so badly, it’s incalculable.
The kissing inspires him to grind his crotch into mine even harder. I feel him flex within his pants, a notification to inform me of exactly how much he’s enjoying this.
It is becoming increasingly evident how very much our pants are in the way of something we both clearly want.
He pulls away again. “Grab my ass.”
I stare at him in disbelief. “Whoareyou?”
His fingers slide into my hair and curl into fists, grabbing hold of me with such strength, it’s my body’s instinct to moan.
I move my hands from his hips to his ass, which I’m surprised to report is firmer and more bountiful than I previously thought. Is that the right word? “Bountiful”? Can a perfectly-proportioned plump butt be dignified with the word “bountiful”?
But it isn’t just the size or exquisite hand-filling shape of his tender cheeks that has me losing my mind.
It’s that when I squeeze, his cheeks flex back.
How is anyone supposed to maintain sanity with this amount of tension building up on this overcrowded driver’s seat?
“You don’t have to be so gentle with me,” he whispers.
He says this while I have my hands on his ass, squeezing like I expect to wring milk out of it.
He says this while we grind our crotches together like we’re mining for diamonds.
Then his fingers curl even tighter in my hair, surprising me, as he dives back into my mouth. He humps me even harder now, working me like a piece of meat he’s tenderizing by beating it to its second death on a kitchen counter.
“N … N …Noah…”
My grunts are turning vocal without my permission.
