Page 109 of Spotlight
“It’s fine. You should sleep. It’s been a long day.” He motions with his head for us to get out of the shower.
Longer for him probably. By the look of him though, he’s not going to sleep very easily. His dick is so hard it looks painful.
“What if I’m not ready for bed yet.” I reach out and wrap my hand around the base of his shaft.
His body stiffens and then relaxes. His lashes lower until his brown eyes are barely visible.
The high I get from his reaction to me touching him never gets old. I’m addicted to it.
“You better make it quick then or no bedtime story.” His jaw tightens and the words come out clipped.
“Like this?” I ask as I move slowly up and down the length of him.
“Little tighter.”
My grip closes around him, and he lets out a guttural laugh mixed with a moan in response.
“Was that a happy sound?”
“Ecstatic,” he grits out. “Don’t stop. I’m already so close from feeling you fall apart around my fingers.”
Another thing I’m addicted to—how he revels in my reaction to him as well.
His hands move to the shower wall behind me, caging me in. His forehead drops to mine and he kisses me hard.
The sounds that leave his throat are raw and primal. Followed by little streams of consciousness like, “So good” and “I’m so fucking gone for you.” Each one lights me up and makes me more eager.
“That’s it. Don’t stop. I’m coming.” He bites down on my bottom lip as he finds his release. His cum coats my hand and my stomach, but the water rinses it away quickly.
“Goddamn,” he mutters as his breathing slows.
Our mouths linger together without really moving.
“Do I still get a story?” I ask, batting my lashes.
He laughs then bites the side of my neck.
We soap up a second time, this time more quickly and with less kissing. The full extent of this long day is finally starting to sink in.
He steals one last kiss as I turn off the water.
“Thank you for watching Greer for me tonight,” I say as we get out of the shower and dry off. “Did she say what was bugging her?”
“She did.” He nods slowly. “A girl in class called her a liar for saying she knew me.”
“What?” My tired brain comes to life as I try to process his words.
He looks sheepish and adorable as he runs the towel over his wet hair. The usually brownish-red locks are darker and fall onto his forehead.
“She drew a picture of the three of us and, I don’t know, the girl accused her of lying in front of the class and then teased her later.”
“I saw the picture,” I say and smile before I process the second part of his sentence. “Who?”
Flynn chuckles. “Easy, Momma Bear.”
I hold the towel a little tighter in my hands. “Which girl?”
“Sara something or other.”
