Page 124 of The Hot Shot
Holding his gaze, I roll over and get on my hands and knees. Avidly, he watches me crawl his way. My breasts sway with the movement, and he runs a hand over his swollen dick. His pecs twitch, his nipples tight beads. I lean in and lick one as I straddle his hips.
We both groan as I sink onto him. I’m so slicked up, so well attended, that he slips right in. Still, I feel it. I feel it at the back of my throat and along the soles of my feet. I feel it in the cool heat that races over my skin.
His hands grip my hips, tilting me forward. I catch myself by holding his big shoulders, and he takes the opportunity to swoop in and draw my nipple into his mouth to suck it, hard and greedy.
As if by mutual consent, we start fucking, him thrusting up into me, me pushing down to get him deep. It is frantic and fast. His fingers sink into the soft flesh of my ass, pulling at it, moving it. He’s so strong, I’m bouncing on his hips, our bodies meeting with loud slaps.
“Fuck, Chess,” he pants. “I can’t. I can’t...” He breaks off and tries to kiss me.
But our movements are so violent and uncoordinated that our mouths barely meet. I wrap my arms around his neck. The walls of my sex clamp down on his dick, and he makes a strangled sound, his body jerking.
“Get there,” he pleads, thrusting harder.
But I’m too weak to do anything more than hang on. His hand slides down. No, he can’t. He can’t. I won’t survive. But he does it. He pushes his finger in deep and rough. And I come again on a wail.
He comes with me this time, making sounds that are almost pained.
We crash in a heap, me slumped on his chest, Finn sagging against the headboard. His arm bands around me, and he cups the back of my sweaty neck as we lie there and regain our breath. His heart is a fast beat in my ear. Too late I remember his injuries.
“Let me get off you,” I say, trying to move.
His grip tightens. “No.”
Not wanting to struggle, I let him hold me, and he relaxes. He turns his head and rests his lips against my temple. “Do you have any idea how much I need you? You make everything better.”
Emotion clogs my throat. I blink rapidly, my cheek pressed to the wall of his chest.
My arms wrap around his shoulders. I want to pull him into me, protect him from the world. “I thought...” I clear my throat. “I thought I might have messed things up.”
Finn stills, and then slowly smooths his hand over the back of my head. “You didn’t. It’s good to talk.”
I nod, but don’t say a word.
His touch is lazy, fingers carding through my hair. “My whole life, I’ve lived with my eye on the future. Every day, working for it. Worrying about it.”
His hand comes to rest on my nape. “I’m tired, Chess. With you, I can rest.” The beat of his heart is fast and strong against my cheek. Warm fingers tighten on my neck in entreaty. “Can we rest for a while? Just be?”
There is true yearning in his voice, and that plea goes straight to my heart. From the beginning, Finn had been clear about what drew him to me; I turned off all the white noise in his head. It had been flattering, seductive to be his sole focus. It still is.
It isn’t one-sided. I did not know what true joy was untilFinn. Every emotion I’m capable of having amps up with him. I feel. I live. I breathe. The world is more real when he is there.
He wants to just be. Not think. I don’t know if I can, but, for Finn, I’ll try.
With a smile that feels too weak, I place a kiss on the center of his chest. “Yes,” I say against his skin. “Let’s just be.”
Twenty
Chess
“So, how are you getting along?” I ask James on the phone. I know Jamie is a programmer and has a tiny efficiency walk-up on the Lower East Side, but Manhattan is ridiculously expensive. James will have to get a job quickly.
“I’m waiting tables at this cute osteriain SoHo.”
I’m not surprised; James waited tables through college, and the money will probably be more than he earned with me.
He names a restaurant run by of one of New York’s biggest chefs.
Leave it to James to understate.
