Page 34 of The Stud Next Door (Frisky Business 3)
“Oh, really?”
I hope this is going where I think it’s going, but I’m not the kind of man to expect some sort of payment in return for a good time. But when she lifts herself onto her elbows and crooks a finger at me, inviting me back onto the bed, I’m not about to object.
Our kisses are slower now, more sensual. I let Jessa guide me onto my back where she straddles me. She still wears her black panties, and I suddenly regret not removing those when I had the chance. What I wouldn’t give to have Jessa’s entirely naked body perched over mine.
In the lamplight, I catch sight of freckles sprinkling her shoulders and the swell of her breasts, details hidden by shadows until now. How can someone be this beautiful?
When I reach for her breasts again, craving their softness, Jessa catches my hands and redirects them to her neck and hair. Slowly, she lowers herself down my chest and abs, marking the trail with electrifying kisses that leave me panting with sexual frustration. I watch as she unbuttons my jeans and pulls down the zipper, yanking my waistband down far enough to release my throbbing erection from my briefs.
Fuck.
“Hold my hair?” she asks, one eyebrow quirking adorably as the soft surface of her palm brushes against the length of me.
I shudder, gently pulling her curls into a riotous ponytail at the back of her neck. With that, Jessa smiles and brushes her lips against my shaft, up and down and back up again until she slides her hot, warm mouth over me in one confident stroke.
“Fuck . . .” I growl, my head falling back on the bed in defeat. “Jessa.”
Her lips, tongue, and mouth are so smooth, wet, and tight around me, I can hardly breathe. When one hot little hand palms my balls, I can feel myself this close to losing control. Jessa must sense it too because her strokes pick up pace, inching me closer to the edge with each passing second.
“I’m gonna come,” I warn her between labored breaths, my heart hammering in my throat. I loosen my grip on her hair as if to say now’s your chance.
But Jessa doesn’t back down. Instead, she pulls me deep into her mouth, swallowing every last drop as pleasure rockets through me.
Holy hell. Now it’s my turn to catch my breath.
Jessa climbs up my body and flops to the side of me, both of us taking a moment to recover. Soon, our staggered breaths become low chuckles, and before long, we’re both cracking up.
“Why did we wait so long to do that?” Jessa says on a sharp exhale, a wide grin stretching between her flushed cheeks.
“Professionalism, I guess,” I say, enjoying the way the bed shakes with our laughter.
Is it too soon to ask her to spend the night?
I don’t have time to debate the pros and cons, though, because Jessa is already on her feet and slipping back into her dress. Catching her reflection in the mirror, she groans, pulling her fingers through her tangled hair. She’s about to leave, so I have to milk these final moments before it’s too late.
I slide off the bed and pull on my briefs, then pad across the bedroom floor to tug up the long zipper along the side of Jessa’s dress. When I finish connecting the tiny clasp at the top, I look into the mirror to see her watching me with a curious expression.
“Why, thank you. You gonna walk me home now too?”
“Of course I am.”
I smirk, and Jessa rolls her eyes, her lips quirking into an irresistible little smile. She bends over, grabbing my shirt off the floor and tossing it toward me.
“Then you’re going to need a shirt.” She winks. “We don’t want the neighbors to talk.”
Once we’re both decent again, I open the very door I had Jessa pressed up against not even an hour ago and lead us outdoors into the night air.
The soft breeze is cool against my skin, which still thrums with the excitement of our post-class extra-curricular activities. Jessa threads her fingers through mine as we cross my lawn and walk up my neighbors’ driveway before climbing the stairs that lead to her door.
“Thanks for walking me home.” She smiles sweetly, rubbing her thumbs against my knuckles. Just when I think she can’t be any cuter, Jessa proves me wrong once again.
“Thank you,” I murmur, leaning in, “for a wonderful night.”
Under the moonlight and surrounded by the chirping of a thousand cicadas, I kiss her. My hands instinctively rise to cup her cheeks before my fingers thread through her silky hair. She sighs against my lips, pressing against me with a hum of contentment.
When we part, there’s nothing more that I want than to ask her to come back home with me and spend the night. But I know better. I don’t want to rush her. Maybe the feels that hit me like a ton of bricks are one-sided.
