Page 106 of The Hot Shot
“For sex?” He blinks up at me with hopeful eyes.
“For bed.”
“Have you always been this mean?” He pouts, kicking off his shoes. One hits the bathroom door with a thud, which is impressive since it’s all the way on the other side of the room.
“Yes.”
“Okay.” Finn sighs and stretches out his arms like he’s about to make bed angels.
“Clothes, Finn.”
“Right. And she claims she doesn’t want me.”
Helping Finn out of his clothes isn’t easy. He’s freaking heavy when he isn’t trying. And then there’s the loopy grin he won’t stop giving me. It’s adorable and annoying all at once. Especially when he gets tangled in his shirt. I finally free him and then tackle his jeans.
“Lift your ass so I can get these off.”
“You say the sexiest things, Chester.”
I roll my eyes and tug when he complies. His jeans and boxer briefs come off as one, and I’m left holding them while staring down at the glory that is his nude body stretched on the bed. And it is glorious, no doubt about that.
He gives me a heated look through lowered lids. “You’re staring at my dick.”
“It’s hard.”
So hard. The thick rod points straight upward. My sex tightens in response.
Finn skims a hand over his length. “It’s a Chess-related condition. Wanna help me out with it?”
Yes. I want to suck it like a lollipop then sink onto it and...Down, girl. No, no, no.
“You’re relentless.” I toss his clothes aside.
“Also a Chess-related condition.”
“Mmm-hmm. Come on. Get under the covers.”
“Not until you undress, too.”
The firm set of his chin tells me he’s not going to let this go. With a sigh, I pull off my clothes, aware of his observation. It’s the way he watches that really gets to me, though. He clearlylikes what he sees. The tenderness in his expression, as if he’s drinking me in, memorizing every line of my body and cherishing it, makes my heart clench.
I shake off the feeling and stand by his side. “There. Now we can both go to sleep.”
“You are so fucking beautiful,” he says.
I clear my throat, but my voice is still raspy. “You’re beautiful, too.”
He doesn’t seem to hear me, but keeps gazing at my face as if I’m an answer to an old riddle. “How did I get so lucky finding you?”
“Must be your Irish blood.” I move to take his arm and help him up when Finn strikes.
He rolls over to pin me to the bed, and the tip of his penis touches my opening, where it is slick and wanting. We both pause, staring at each other, our breathing erratic. I know he feels how wet I am.
I give him a weak smile. “It’s a Finn-related condition.”
“I empathize.”
“I bet you do.”
