Page 40 of Camera Chemistry
I nudge his chest. “You want to dance with me?”
“Yeah. I do.” He spins me out of his hold and laces our fingers together. “We’ve done dinner and dessert. I bought you flowers. We had incredible sex. All that’s left to make this a perfect date is some dancing. It is Valentine’s Day, after all.”
“I wasn’t aware this was a date,” I say softly. He tugs me and wraps his arms around my waist. We sway together, my back to his front, a synchronized movement. I hear Aiden hum a tune,La Vie en Rose, I think, and I close my eyes.
“It’s not. I would’ve done everything different if this were an actual date. You mentioned liking roller blading. I would have suggested we meet at the Air and Space museum. Blade down the National Mall, then grab a burger for lunch. We’d sit on a bench, talk, and freeze our asses off. I’d probably spill ketchup on my shirt. You’d laugh at me for being a goof. I’d be scared shitless to ask you out again, but you’d take pity on me and agree.”
“You’d rollerblade with me even though you hate athletics? And you could possibly tear a ligament?”
“Of course,” he says simply. “You like it.”
“Will we have candy hearts with our burgers?”
“All the candy hearts you want, sweetheart. An homage to our first meeting.”
I could stay like this forever. In his hold, the press of his lips to my cheek, the hum of his voice as he dips me low to the ground, a brilliant smile on his face. It’s a shame I’m going to have to say goodbye.
TWENTY-FOUR
AIDEN
“I thinkwe should revisit a couple of items from your list.” I pick up the forgotten piece of paper, reading over the items Maggie jotted down.
“Any personal favorites, Doctor Wood?” she asks.
“The crawling was hot as hell. And you on the counter was sexy, too.”
“So you’re a man who likes to be in control and wants to show me off to the world.”
“I’d be an idiot to not want that, Maggie. You’re a trophy.”
Her cheeks flush. She loves to be praised, but accepting compliments at the drop of a hat isn’t as easy. I only have a few more hours to prove to her that sheisworthy of that praise, and more.
“Get on your knees,” I say. I toss the paper to the side, not giving a flying fuck where it ends up. I have it all memorized. “And lose the shirt.”
Maggie pulls the cotton over her head, naked body fully visible. She lowers herself to the floor, wincing as her knees connect with the laminate. Once situated, she looks up at me with inquisitive eyes, waiting for the next set of instructions. I stroke the top of her head and bend down to press a kiss to her knotted hair. She lets out a sigh, a sign she’s okay, and I make my way to the window. Leaning against the glass, I tug my sweats below my ass, not bothering to take them off completely.
“Touch your nipples,” I instruct. Her hands move automatically, palming her breasts and twisting her nipples between her fingers. Her neck tilts back and her throat elongates. “One hand on your clit. There you go, Maggie. Fucking perfect.”
She lets out a breathy little moan, a tiny exhale of air. God, I want to touch her. To coax her over the edge myself, swallowing down every sound she tries to make. I stay mounted to the window, though, my eyes hooded and my dick as hard as a fucking rock.
Maggie rubs her clit with her right hand, and pinches her nipple with her left. She has a rhythm, a specific pace she enjoys, and I watch her, every circle of her finger. Every flick against a pebbled peak. I really would record her if I could. I’d play the video every night, zooming in so I could see the glisten of her fingers as she fucked herself into oblivion.
“Come over here, sweetheart. I want you to suck my cock.” Maggie goes to stand and I tut. “Really? Think about your next move very carefully. If you choose incorrectly, you’ll end up over my knee.”
“And if I pick the right choice?”
“You’ll suck my dick, then I’ll fuck you against the window. And after, what will you say?”
I’m not a guy who narrates each move during intimacy, but I’ve always been a fan of saying exactly what’s on my mind when it comes to sex. Why bother with games and ambiguity when I could have her flat on her back, legs wrapped around my neck? I was afraid the directness might be too much for Maggie, but she doesn’t mind. Her inhale is sharp like jagged glass. Pink flushes her cheeks, and her rhythm on her clit becomes sporadic.
“Thank you,” she whispers.
“Such a good girl.”
The praise lights her up. She smiles and her eyes brighten. Her hands fall to her sides and she leans forward, palms flat against the floor.
Jesus. I’ve never made a woman crawl to me before, butfuckdoes Maggie make it look sexy as hell. Her gaze stays locked on mine as she makes her way to me. Left hand. Right hand. Left hand. Right hand.
