Page 68 of The Scout

“I know. Not very masculine.”

“It’s pretty,” I said. “Very you.”

“Are you calling me pretty?”

“If the face fits ... yes.”

A giggle flew from my mouth. My body bounced off the mattress, and in a nanosecond, he was pulling off my jeans and taking off my shirt. Then, torturously slow, he took off the rest of his clothes.

I couldn’t help but stare at the perfect man in front of me. “Still think I’m pretty?” he asked, now completely naked.

Propping myself on my elbows to get a better look, I was about to answer him when he wrapped his fingers around his hardened length and started to stroke himself. It had to be the sexiest thing I’d ever witnessed. My eyes were glued to the way his hand tugged, twisted, and caressed his dick.

All I could think of was if Pinky was here, I’d retaliate. Then again ... I smirked and slowly began to lower my hand. I brought my knees up and let them fall to the side. Deep down, I knew if this was any other man but Cash, I couldn’t do what I was contemplating doing. His eyes lasered in on my freshly shaven skin.

“Go ahead, Hannah. Touch yourself.”

Forcing a swallow, I let my middle finger slide toward my clit and began to make slow, steady circles, but it wasn’t what I wanted. I wanted him. Knowing one thing that would set him off, I stopped and brought my wet finger to my mouth and sucked on it.

“Fuck this.” He let go of himself and got between my legs, the head of his penis rubbing against my slickness. “Do I need a condom? I swear the only woman I’d ever gone without with is you. Are you on birth control?”

I nodded. Taking that step was monumental for me, especially when I said, “I trust you.”

That was all he needed because, in one thrust, he was inside me.

“Fuck ... you feel incredible. Your body was meant for mine.” He moved in and out of me, and I became slicker with each thrust. “No one else, Hannah.”

“No one else, what?” I breathed in a harsh whisper.

“No one else gets to fuck this pussy. It’s mine. You can deny it, but it’s a goddamn fact.”

Groaning, I didn’t want to dispute his claim. All I wanted was the euphoric feeling not to end. “Not even Pinky?” I teased.

On stiff arms, he lifted himself to look at me and stopped moving. “Who the fuck is that?”

Owning up to my vibrator having a name, I blossomed with embarrassment. “My vibrator.”

“No, not even Pinky, unless it’s by my hand. Does it feel better than this?”

He lunged forward, sending my head farther toward the headboard. His stiff cock slid in and out of me with purpose. I could feel myself gaining momentum toward orgasming until he unkindly slid out of me.

I was ready to curse him for leaving me on the edge, but he glanced up at me with those pretty eyes of his and smirked right before he blew a breath of warm air between my legs. “I’m going to feast on you for a bit.”

My hands gripped the sheet beneath me as he flattened his tongue against my opening. I may have called out to God when he slid it inside of me. Instinctively, my hips lifted off the mattress. Trading the sheet for his head, my fingers gripped the silky strands, tugging on them and doing my best to inch him closer to me—if that were even possible.

“You’re so fucking addicting,” he murmured against me.

Contrary to the situation happening between my legs, I let out a small laugh. I didn’t know why I did that, but stormy eyes met mine.

“More than baseball.”

“What?”

“You’re more addicting than baseball.”

Knowing what that meant, I lowered my hands to his face, cupping his cheeks, and gently pulled him toward me until we were face to face. “I’m more addicting than baseball?”

“One thousand fucking percent.”

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