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Feels Like Summertime (Lake Fisher 1)

Page 77

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“I don’t want to go think in my room.” I swipe my hand down my face again. “I want to think right here.”

“You’re getting my bed all wet,” she complains.

“Sorry,” I murmur. She’s getting dressed and I let the opportunity slip me by. “I don’t want to rush things,” I say.

“Jake, I get it. You don’t have to explain.”

“You get what?”

“Don’t make this any harder, okay?” She blows out a breath. “Just go.” I get up and she spins around to face me. “You could have just told me.”

“Told you what?”

“That you…don’t want me…that way.” She sniffles.

Huh? “You think I don’t want you?” I take her hand and put it on the damp crotch of my shorts. “Does that feel like I don’t want you?” Her hand explores the evidence of my arousal in my shorts.

“Oh,” she says. Her cheeks turn pink. Her voice gets soft. “Why didn’t you come and join me?”

“I wasn’t prepared.”

“Oh! You mean you have to take something?” She suddenly looks worried.

“Oh, God, no! I don’t have to take anything!” This is going from bad to worse. “My junk works just fine.” I heave out a sigh. “I don’t have any condoms.”

Recognition finally dawns on her face. “Oh. I didn’t even think about that.”

“I did.” I step toward her and bracket her face with my hands. “I want to be inside you more than I want anything. But I also want to be responsible. I don’t want to do anything to hurt you.”

She shakes her head. “I was stupid.”

I kiss her, because she’s there and her lips are waiting. She kisses me back, stepping up onto her tiptoes so she can kiss me harder. Her tongue meets mine, and I’m afraid I might come in my shorts. “I want to see you,” I say, as I hook my finger in the towel that’s wrapped around her body. She shakes her head free of the one wrapped around her hair. Both the towels fall to the floor.

“Wow,” I say. Her chest flushes pink.

“My body’s not quite what it used to be,” she says. She looks everywhere but at me while I stare at nothing but her. I want to take in every part of her, from the curve of her shoulder to the space between her toes. I want to find out if the spot on the back of her knee is tender or ticklish. I want to lick across that mole beneath her left breast. I want to find out if her nipples taste like dark cherries, or if that’s just her embarrassment and the heat from the shower tinting her skin.

“Your body is beautiful,” I say.

She scoffs. “You don’t have to flatter me. I’ve had four kids.” She holds up four fingers. I grab her wrist and kiss each finger. Then I kiss my way down her wrist and up her inner arm, stopping every now and again to nibble, until her arm is outstretched and her breast lifts ever so slightly. I cup her breast in my hand. “The last time I touched you like this, you didn’t have enough boob to fill my hand. Now… God!” I kiss the underside of her breast. “Can I kiss you here?” I ask, as I swipe my thumb across her nipple.

She nods and lets out a little noise. I take her nipple into my mouth, being careful not to suck, but I do lick and taste and tease her until she’s hard in my mouth, and she clutches onto my hair with her fists. “Jake,” she says, and she pulls my face back up to hers.

I run my hands down her sides to her bottom, grabbing two handfuls and squeezing as I lift her against me. “I want to make you feel good,” I say.

“Jake,” she says again.

I fall onto the bed with her beneath me, careful to catch my weight with my arms, and I lie on top of her.

She spreads her legs to cradle me, and I hitch myself against her center.

“Please,” she says. She reaches for the button of my shorts, but I grab her hands and tangle my fingers with hers, and press our hands against the mattress. Then I kiss my way down her stomach, tasting the sweet trail that leads down between her panties. I untangle our hands and peel her panties off her.

Katie doesn’t shave. I have to admit that I like that. A shaved pussy makes me think of prepubescent girls, and that’s the last thing I want to think about during sex. I linger over her damp heat, rubbing my nose against the fine, straight hairs. Then she arches her hips and pushes my head down. “Please,” she says again.

A knock sounds on the door. I freeze, and so does Katie.

“Yes?” Her voice squeaks and I have to hold back a laugh.



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