Page 63 of Crash and Burn
Those two fingers played at my entrance, dipping in the barest of inches, then retreating. He repeated the motion, again and again, until my legs were trembling and whimpers escaped my dry throat.
He was teasing me, trying to drive me crazy, trying to make me desperate. And it was working.
"Please," I whispered, my voice hoarse and shaky as I tried to be quiet. "Don't tease me."
He slipped inside me and I clenched reflexively. The pulsing of my inner walls matched the rhythm of his fingers as he pumped in and out, his hand working me under my now damp panties.
With my back against the wall to brace myself, I clutched at his shoulders to keep my weak legs from giving out. My hips bucked in time with his movements, trying to increase the pace.
My breathing became uneven, as did Grant's. I tried to keep my gasps muffled, but the pleasure was becoming too intense.
He did something with his fingers and pressed hard with his thumb. The pleasure crested and I opened my mouth to shout. His mouth crashed down onto mine, swallowing my cries as I came explosively under his touch.
I shuddered and panted as I slowly floated back down to earth. Grant placed soft kisses all along my cheeks, nose and forehead as I caught my breath.
I rose from my slumped position against the wall and tested my legs. They could hold my weight, not falling out from under me.
Flushed and breathless, I parted the changing room curtain an inch and darted my head out. There was no one around.
"The coast is clear," I told Grant.
He pressed his lips to my ear.
"Sure you don't want to continue?" he murmured.
My insides throbbed and pulsed. I did want to continue.
"How fast can you get us home without breaking any laws?" I asked.
Grant's eyes flashed with heat.
"Fast enough," he replied.
21
True to his word, Grant didn't break any speed limits on our way to his apartment. He did manage to have the bad luck of hitting every red light, which I thought was a bad omen. Maybe some deity up there didn't want me to get laid.
The extra time it took to get to his apartment was enough to cool us both down. We managed to ride the elevator up and get through the front door without ripping each other's clothes off.
I'd been in Grant's apartment many times before, just like he had been in mine. But this time was different. This time my eyes went immediately to his bedroom door, which was slightly ajar. His bed was just visible through the crack. The sheets were smoothed and unwrinkled, but the pillows were askew.
My heart thumped heavily in my chest.
"What wrong?" Grant asked.
I realized I'd stopped in the middle of taking off my shoes, one heeled pump still on my left foot, the right bare.
"I was just thinking how different everything is now," I said.
"I don't think it's so different," Grant replied as he looked around thoughtfully. "We're still the same people as before."
"But now I want to drag you off to the bedroom," I said. "Not sit on the sofa and watch Silence of the Lambs for our tenth time."
"Are you saying you never wanted to drag me off to the bedroom during our movie nights?" he asked slyly.
My flush gave me away.
"Things are only different now because we can finally act on those urges," Grant said.
