He makes a short sound, as if he’s finding it hard to speak. “Nothing and nobody has ever made me feel as good as you do, Missy.”
I don’t want to wait anymore to be alone with Turk. My inner thighs are tingling around his hips and the flesh in between pulls continuously. Flexes and grows wetter. “I think…” My face is hotter than a stove, but I press on, knowing he won’t think anything I say is weird. No, he’s going to think it’s glorious. “I think I can make you feel even better.”
His hungry groan makes my tummy flip, those big hands of his climbing my outer thighs and gripping the hem of my tennis skirt. “Fuck it, I can’t wait any more. I’ll drive us back to your place and we’ll get you good and pregnant, cutie.”
“No,” I whimper when his erection bulges against my panties and continues to swell, larger and larger. “I can’t wait that long.”
“I can’t fuck you on the sidelines,” he rasps, giving me one subtle upthrust. Two. Three. “God. Even if I want to.”
“Outfitter has a private box upstairs at this stadium,” I manage, breathing hard against his lips. “We keep it for clients, but I don’t think anyone is there today. I-I have a key.”
Six
Turk
Dammit.
My cock is a traitor.
I could have had a few more hours with Missy before she sends me packing, but the man downstairs is demanding relief—and God help me, I am overwhelmed by the fury inside of me to get naked with her. To feel her skin and listen to her breath and be as close as possible. To watch lust and wonder transform her incredible face. I need those things more than air.
I need them for the rest of my life, that’s the problem.
And all I’ve got is one afternoon.
Okay fine, ten minutes tops, because my balls are as sensitive as water balloons.
As Missy lets us into the VIP suite, I’ve got both hands beneath her tank top, playing with her pretty virgin tits. She’s got that ass backed up into my lap and I’m groaning like a beggar, humping her through the built-in underwear of the skirt. Sweet hell, what position am I going to put her in? What is going to give her the most pleasure and ensure she has the best chance of getting pregnant?
The door opens and I lose any chance to plan or strategize, because she’s stripping off her top, kicking her shoes to the side of the dark, elegant, air-conditioned suite. The game has continued down on the field, but we’re in our own world now. Behind tinted glass so no one can see what I’m about to do to her. Even though my chest is screaming at me to stall. You’re going to lose her as soon as this is over. Fuck.
I can’t stop.
I’m too starved for this girl to be rational.
With jerky motions, I unbuckle my belt and lower my zipper. “Are you ready for Daddy’s fuck?”
She moans and goes down on her knees, nodding. “Yes.”
“Why are you kneeling?”
“I don’t know. I-I feel like I should be.” She unfastens her bra, leaving her in nothing but the little white skirt. A vision that stops me in my tracks, an object becoming lodged in my throat. Missy half naked and on her knees with glazed eyes and pouting nipples is an image no man on earth is worthy of seeing up close, but somehow I’ve been allowed into heaven early, although those tits would turn the angels against each other, for sure. “And I’m not afraid to follow my instincts with you,” she finishes shyly, tucking dark hair behind her ear.
“That’s good, Missy,” I grit, pride thickening my tone. “You don’t have to be afraid of anything with me. Not a damn thing.”
“I know. I’m not,” she whispers, lifting up her skirt and cupping her pussy. “Touch me here and tell me I’m a good little girl.”
Son of a bitch.
Lust is already rampaging through my body, but with that obvious hint about how she wants her one experience with sex to go, I damn near explode. “I’m not going to be able to hold my seed very long if I’m stretching that virgin hole and calling you my good little girl at the same time,” I say raggedly, watching her stroke her sex, wetness beginning to soak through the built-in panties of her tennis skirt. “I want to get you pregnant, but I’m not going to nut until you’re satisfied. I refuse.”
She nods solemnly, bites her lip. “Maybe…”
“Maybe what, cutie?”
“Maybe if you finish fast this time, we…well, we’ll have to negotiate one more time. Two in total. I want both of us to be satisfied with the agreement.”
“When we walk away,” I finish hollowly.
Seconds tick by before she answers. “Exactly.”
Dagger. Meet chest. Twist.