Page 60 of Lovetown, USA
As the pressure coils, one hand fists the sheets, the other grips her hair, and my back arches again. I’m close.Soclose. And then—
“Nooooooo! I was about to cum,” I whine as she lets up again.
“I know.” Her smirk is infuriating, but sexy. “I like edging you, my love. Watching you squirm turns me on.”
“I hate you.” My breathing is shallow. My pulse is still racing.
Her gaze sharpens. “Look into my eyes. Don’t look away.”
I’m at her mercy. I have to do what she says. It’s easy to look at her, as gorgeous as she is, but those eyes…thattongue. She’s showing out now, swirling slowly, flicking, licking, suckling. She must like it, because her eyes are rolling almost as much as mine.
I can’t help it, I roll my hips, grinding my pussy against her face. And when she moans, I explode out of nowhere, cumming hard on her tongue while I scream and claw at the sheets.
Static fills my ears as I pant through my release. I’m lying there, still, when she says, “Are you okay?”
“I’m good. Great. Never been better.”
She laughs softly, then stands to her feet.
“Wait. Come here for a minute.”
She moves on top of me again. I pull her in, getting a delicious taste of me. When I’m done, she moves to stand again, prompting me to sit up.
“I was gonna return the favor.”
“It’s fine,” she says as she pulls something out of her dresser drawer. “No pressure, love.”
I watch her light a blunt, shaking my head when she holds it out to me.
I’m a little relieved. It’s not that I wouldn’t have gone down on her, it’s just that I’ve never done it. I would want her to feel as good as I did, and I’m pretty sure that takes practice.
I lay back down, staring up at the ceiling, my body relaxed, my eyes heavy. And I find myself wondering what Trey is doing.Of all the thoughts I had swirling around in my mind, Shayla managed to relieve me of them all except him.
20
Trey
The ball is slickwith sweat, my grip loosening as I drive toward the hoop. I hear the satisfying smack of sneakers on the hardwood, the echo of a good bounce, the call of my teammates. For a moment, it feels good. It feels simple. It’s like being twenty-one again, even though my knee is screaming otherwise.
It still hurts when I do too much.
Which is every time.
We win our scrimmage, then I step off the court, grabbing my water on the way. Bryce claps me on the shoulder. “Aye, lemme holler at you for a minute.”
I incline my head toward the bleachers.
After we settle, he blows out a sigh. “Your girl.”
“Be more specific,” I say.
“The writer. The one who wrote that article.”
My hackles are raised, just a little. “What about her?”
“Where’s she going with that?”
“How the fuck should I know?” I say, laughing. “Write her an email and ask her.”
