Page 38 of Lovetown, USA
“Really,” he asks flatly, almost like he was expecting that.
“Mm hm. There’s something off about this place, Trey. I can feel it.”
He nods slowly, his expression unreadable. “I hope you find what you’re looking for.”
There are a few different ways I can take that, but before I ask for clarification, he stretches and yawns. “I should get on the road,” he says. “Early day tomorrow.”
“Wait.” I pop the rest of my brownie in my mouth, then move to stand in front of him, my hands on my hips. “Before you go, I need you to check my stitches.”
He raises an eyebrow.
“This way I don’t have to make another appointment,” I say, all fake nice.
His amused face tells me he knows where this is going, but he humors me anyway, gently taking my left hand, peeling back the bandage to examine my palm, his fingertips grazing the scar tissue. His touch is light and reverent and affecting.
“Almost dissolved,” he says. “It’s healing nicely.” His eyes flicker up to mine. “Does it still hurt?”
“Just itches sometimes.”
“That’s normal.”
“Good. Because I have another injury.”
He stares up at me, his eyes curious, his mouth curved into a wry smile.
“My wrist.” I hold it out to him like a damsel in distress. “From when I fell earlier.”
He lowers my right hand, then picks up my left. He cradles the wrist, inspecting it with practiced fingers, turning it slowly.
“No swelling,” he murmurs. “No abnormalities. Let’s test mobility.”
He turns my wrist from one side to the other and back again, then pushes my hand up, down, and sideways. It’s all veryprofessional until he dips his head and presses his lips against it with a kiss that feels like a whisper.
I inhale sharply.
“I think you’re okay,” he says, eyes still fixed on my wrist.
“I don’t think I am.”
He looks up again from his seated position, searching my face. “What else do you need?”
“You know exactly what I need.”
Slowly and carefully, he lowers my wrist and brings his hands to the hem of my shirt, pushing it up, exposing my flesh. His lips brush my stomach, dotting kisses across every inch of my bare skin. Goosebumps erupt as my eyes flutter shut.
Then he yanks my shorts down, and my eyes fly open just in time to watch him dive face first into my pussy.
“Trey…” I breathe.
His tongue is lethal.
He lifts my leg and tosses it over his shoulder, using his fingers to spread me open.
“Shit. Yessss…”
My head falls back. My hands find the top of his head, grabbing desperately at something to hold while he unravels me.
He’s such a good friend.
