Page 53 of Flame
I take his hand and hold it between us. Slowly, I bend each finger down except the second one.
His breathing is labored, his eyes wide, as I place it on my sternum. Holding his gaze, I drag his finger between my breasts, down my stomach, and beneath the hem of his shirt. I grin as I slide his finger through my wetness, sinking my body against it.
Fireworks shoot through my core, exploding at the apex of my thighs. Wetness coats his fingers as I pull them between us again.
“Does it feel like it’s what I want?” I ask.
He drags both of our hands to his mouth. I gasp as he pops his finger into his mouth, sucking on it before he pulls it back out.
I shiver, my legs threatening to give out.
“The next time I taste your pussy, my face will be buried in it,” he says, the gravel of the words prickling my senses.
“Fuck me now, Foxx. Dammit. Stop being a dick.”
He leans forward, his breath scented with my sex, and grins. “No.”
I plant both hands on his chest and shove him away. He takes a step back, chuckling.
“I hate you,” I say, walking toward the doorway. “We’re not even married yet, and I hate you already.”
“I’ve heard makeup sex is the best, anyway. We’re off to a good start.”
He follows me into the kitchen, stopping at the counter while I pour myself a glass of water. I can barely think straight. Everything is so convoluted, so jumbled together in a thick fog. Not to mention feeling so needy—so incredibly turned on.And he’s barely touched me.
The glass is cool in my hands. I press it between my breasts to help cool my body. Foxx’s attention settles on my chest.
“I should take this shirt off right now and torture you,” I say.
His eyes darken.
“But then—what the heck is that?” I set the glass down and point out the window overlooking the street. “Is that a … chicken on a leash?”
Foxx looks at the ceiling. “You’ve got to be kidding me.”
I scoot across the room and peer out the window. A man about Foxx’s size, with a bandanna tied around his forehead, walks down the street with two chickens on a leash.
“Who is that?” I ask, looking at Foxx over my shoulder. “And am I seeing that correctly? He’s walking two chickens like you would dogs. Right? Or am I really losing my mind?” I pause. “That would make sense—the mind loss and not the chicken walking. I just thought we were getting married. Clearly, I’m losing it.”
Foxx exhales, clearly perturbed. “That’s one of my brothers. Jess.”
I glance out the window again. “Jess is kind of cute.”
I barely get the words out of my mouth before Foxx is behind me. His fingers dig into my waist as he spins me around.
My breath is stolen by the heat boiling off him.
“Say that again, and you’ll be sorry,” he says.
“What? That Jess is hot?”
He laughs angrily.
“He is,” I say, resting my hands on his shoulders. “He’s not as hot as you are, but I’m currently overwhelmed with needs to be met, and my fiancé refuses to meet them. It could just be a haze of desire that’s clouding my vision. You could fuck that out of me, you know.”
Foxx studies me. The mischievous grin he wears makes me regret talking shit.
“Fine,” he says, giving me his trademark shrug. “Guess what happens now?”
