That made me fucking happy, too.
More so that there were a few things that she hadn’t done with her previous boyfriend, that she was now doing with me.
I sat up all the way, coming to my feet beside the bed, and looked down at her.
Her lower half was still exposed, but there was one thing I’d been dying to see.
I started to push my boxers down my thighs as I said, “Take that shirt off, baby. I want to see what you look like underneath of it.”
She grimaced slightly, and I paused, wondering what that was for.
But then the shirt went up over her head, bunching it so I could see what it was covering, But she ultimately left it on. I realized that I was brain damaged.
At least, that was the way it felt when my eyes zeroed in on her naked breasts for the first time.
Okay, so maybe I was an ass and a tit man.
Whatever I was, the sight of her showing me her nakedness in my bed, surrounded by her wild hair, was enough to nearly send me to my knees.
Her body wasn’t super fit. It wasn’t hefty, but it definitely wasn’t skinny.
It was just the way I liked it, though.
A girl that liked to eat, knew it, and didn’t care about a small roll here or there.
She looked like she’d be just the perfect handful…
“You’re staring at me strangely,” she accused.
My lips quirked. “I was trying to decide which part of your body I wanted to devour first.”
She smiled sweetly, then reached up and grasped the headboard of my bed.
“Let’s give Lindy a show, Shine,” she teased.
Shine.
She hadn’t called me by my road name all that often, but I loved when she did.
I also loved that she was one of the only people to call me by my given name.
The only people that did it now were my grandmother and my grandfather.
Unlike my brothers, who interchangeably used their given name and their road name, I mainly only ever went by Shine.
So it was a sweet surprise to have her call me by my real name.
But when she used Shine, it made me feel like she accepted the real me.
The biker who sometimes did bad things for good reasons.
Even though, likely, she didn’t have any clue about that kind of stuff just yet.
“You’re thinking really hard over there,” she teased, her eyes a little shuttered.
“I’m thinking about how you taste, and how much I want to hold you,” I admitted.
Her face softened. “Well, get to it then, mister.”
I fisted my cock that she’d been avoiding looking at, and her eyes finally went there, widening ever so slightly.
“What. The. Fuck. Is. That?” she said slowly, stunned.
I had a good laugh for about thirty seconds before saying, “My cock is pierced.”
She leaned forward until she was face to dick with it.
Then she reached forward and pressed one fingertip against the barbell.
“That… looks painful,” she confessed.
“It was painful at first. Now, not so much,” I admitted. “You ever been with a man who had a piercing before?”
She shook her head almost too excitedly, making me smirk.
“It’s called a Prince Albert,” I explained, pumping my shaft lightly for a few long seconds while I let her get used to the idea.
She licked her lips. “Why is it called a Prince Albert?”
I shrugged. “I Googled it once. They said some dead prince, Albert, had this type of piercing. I think that’s where it got its name from.”
Her eyes went from my eyes, back to my dick, then back to my eyes.
“Did it hurt?” she pushed.
I frowned, wondering what she was talking about since I’d just answered her question not even two seconds before.
“I already said…” I paused when she interrupted me with, “When you fell from heaven?”
I burst out laughing. “Woman, what in the fuck are you talking about?”
She snickered. “I was talking about the fact that you have this perfect body. Perfect tan. Perfect hair. Perfect dick with a perfect piercing in it. I mean… is it painful being that perfect all the time?”
I snorted. “Yes, it’s definitely tough. I sometimes feel as if the weight of the world is on my shoulders, remaining this perfect. That’s why I take my shirt off while at work, you know. It’s part of my godly duties, to make sure that everyone gets their full view of perfectness that day.”
She reached out and wrapped her hand around my cock.
The difference in skin color, her hand much tanner than my lighter-skinned cock, momentarily had me focusing on what I looked like, and not what it felt like to have her hand wrapped around me.
Then she started to twist the hand on my cock, milking the tip with her palm and causing a small droplet of precome to leak out of the tip. She swiped it away with her thumb.