Four Fun (Four)

“If you think this is messy, I’m glad we didn’t go to my place.”

Khalil pulls his phone from his pocket and after he thumbs over it for a second, mellow R&B fills the room from unseen speakers. He sets his phone and wine glass on a table and settles onto the couch next to me, the length of his leg pressed against mine. “Do you live in Whitman?”

“No, Four Points,” I say, turning slightly to lean my back against his arm, relaxing into him. I get the warm scent of his skin again, and am looking forward to moving past the small talk so I can find out if he tastes as good as he smells.

“Cool place,” he says. “I love that little island.”

“It’s fun in the summer. It can be a little boring in the off season.”

“And what do you like to do for fun?” Khalil asks, laying his hand on my thigh.

I turn toward him. “This.” I cover his hand with mine. “And this.” I slide his hand upward toward my hip.

He turns fully toward me then, and I reach for his face, bringing his mouth closer to mine. “Especially this,” I say, before I kiss him.

His arm goes around me as his lips meet mine. He gives me a soft, brief kiss before capturing my bottom lip gently between his teeth. When he tugs on it, it’s like he’s opening a tap in my panties, because my pussy instantly gets wet.

“Mmmm,” I murmur.

“You taste sweet.” His tongue darts out to lick the lip he’d just bitten.

“Other parts of me are sweet, too,” I say. I set my wine glass on the table and shift to put my knee across his lap and straddle him.

His hands stroke up my body, and his thumbs press into the sides of my breasts, making my sundress gap open in the front as the flimsy straps fall from my shoulders. His eyes go to my chest, and his mouth follows as he bends to kiss and then lick the top of my cleavage.

This is a million times better than small talk.

I finally get my hands on the bulging shoulder muscles I’ve been admiring. They’re big and as firm as they’d looked, and I squeeze them before sliding my hands over and around, taking in the broad span of the man’s chest.

Based on both the look of him and the size of this house, I’ll bet there’s a giant in-home gym somewhere under this roof, and Khalil’s body tells me that he spends a lot of time at the weight bench.

“I’m so glad I went to the bookstore tonight,” he says as he marks a row of kisses along the side of my neck.

“Me too.” The bottom of my sundress has ridden up almost to my waist, so there’s just the thin fabric of my panties between me and his jeans. I wiggle on his lap, feeling the long, hard shape of his cock beneath his zipper.

I grind again, and he moans. His hands slide down over my collarbone and my chest, taking the stretchy fabric of the top of my sundress down with them, exposing my breasts. Maybe Khalil was expecting to have to deal with some sort of undergarment because his expression shows surprise and delight.

“So pretty,” he says, a hint of awe in his voice. “Can I taste you?”

“Only if I can taste you next.”

His eyelids are heavy over his now-black eyes as he descends to take the tip of one of my breasts between his lips. After a gentle taste, he pinches it between his teeth and flicks his tongue over it in rapid movement. My clit throbs in response and another rush of wetness dampens my panties.

“I like that,” I say, arching my back to give him better access. “Do the other one, please.”

As he switches to the other side, he looks up at me with such fire in his eyes that I could swoon, as if I were a character in one of those historical romance books.

He nibbles at my pebbled nipple, and then sucks, taking more and more of my breast into his mouth, licking, kissing, biting, and making me squirm in his lap.

I grab onto those muscular shoulders again and rub my bottom over the bulge in his pants, keeping a rhythm as sensation builds and tightens inside me. Soon, I’ll be so full I won’t be able to do anything but burst.

“Oh god, oh yes, just like that,” I tell Khalil as he squeezes my breasts together and presses his face into them, his fingers twisting my nipples as his tongue tickles and teases.

“Oh god, oh yes —”

“What the fuck is going on here?” The angry voice is startling, but also familiar, like I’m hearing it inside my head.

But it’s definitely not my imagination.

8

“Do not touch”