Page 12 of Drilled
I cup the nape of her neck and draw her close, pressing my lips to hers. She sighs softly against my mouth. I clasp the hair scrunchie between my first two fingers and gently tug. Charlotte’s locks fall down around her shoulders, brushing against my hands where I touch her face and neck.
Finally, after claiming her with my tongue, I pull back to get another look at her. Her curls complement her pink, roundish cheeks, and I long to lose myself in her scent.
“You look even sexier with my fingers in your hair,” I say.
Charlotte moves in so close for more kissing I have no choice but to sweep her onto my lap.
She straddles me on the sofa, one leg on either side of my legs. I rest each hand on each of her tanned legs and squeeze.
“What are you thinking about, Harley?”
I smile up at her face, then turn my gaze downward to her tight nipples that poke through the fabric of her cropped hoodie.
“I think you’re not wearing a bra and might be trying to tempt me. Or I would think that if I were an unevolved caveman who believed women dress for the benefit of men.”
She bites her lip, and the pink in her cheeks darkens. “I never walk around without a bra when I’m alone, Harley. This is one hundred percent for your benefit.”
I bite back a groan and run my palms up the outside of her thighs until I reach the frayed hem of her knit shorts. I could be losing my grip on reality, but I think I feel heat bloom against the front of my jeans when I squeeze her plump cheeks. Her lips part, and I watch her kissable throat bob as I hitch her closer, forcing her to rub against me.
“Thanks for thinking of me,” I chuckle, nuzzling my face between her breasts, my mouth salivating. I know we said slow, but how soon can we get rid of these clothes?
“I have another secret,” Charlotte declares with a wicked smile. “It’s a naughty one.”
I turn my head to bend my ear toward her. “If you whisper it in my ear, it won’t be naughty, I promise.”
She leans in and whispers, “I’m not wearing underwear, either.”
This time, the groan escapes before I can bite it back. “Damn,” I grit out, my hands traveling up and down over her thick rump, squeezing and caressing, pulling her against my pelvis, enjoying the heat, the friction.
“I was wrong,” I say. “You’re a super naughty girl.”
“Better late than never.”
My greedy hands slow their explorations as I examine her face carefully. “What’s better late than never? Being naughty?”
She nods. “I should probably tell you now. Not only can I not have kids, I’m also a virgin.”
“Okay,” I reply, never breaking eye contact. “And?”
“And I don’t believe the so-called purity stuff I was raised to believe, but it’s left me just … not wanting to deal with any of it. Is that too much for you?”
We both take a beat as these words hang in the air.
“Too much? We all have stuff, Charlotte. It doesn’t change who you are to me.”
“That doesn’t bother you? That I’m a virgin?”
“Is it supposed to?”
“I don’t know,” she says. “But I’m not expecting you to deflower me today if you have any hesitation.”
I smile. “Deflower you?” Is that a joke?
But I can see from her face that she’s dead ass. “Yes. If you feel uncomfortable taking a woman’s virtue, that’s fine. But if you want to, I’m ready.”
People in her past really did a number on her.
“Baby,” I say, resting a hand on either hip. “The only thing I’m uncomfortable with is using words like ‘deflower’ and ‘virtue.’”
