I grin at her and pull her close. She looks up at me, up into my eyes. I kiss her, nice and slow, letting it linger. Fucking hell, she tastes good, and my pulse is pounding in my ears. I pull her tighter, feeling her gorgeous body through her clothes, her perky breasts, her tight ass. I squeeze it and love the way she moans into my mouth.
I push her against the wall and kiss her neck. She groans. “Quiet,” I whisper. “You never know who’s listening.”
I bury her reply in a kiss and unbutton the front of her pants. I pin her other wrist to the wall above her head and slip my hand down the front of her jeans. She’s wearing a pair of lacy panties but I bypass them, sliding my fingers down to run over her slick, wet, gorgeous pussy. She’s already dripping and I’m willing to bet she’s been soaked ever since she first saw me.
Her body struggles against mine as I kiss her harder and rub her clit with my fingers. I hold her wrist tight, pinning her to the wall with my body and my free hand. I take her, fingers working her gorgeous clit before sliding inside her pussy. I fuck her with them, in and out, then back to her clit, rolling and rubbing. Her hips move against my hand and she’s moaning. I release her wrist and grab her hair hard, pulling it tight.
“If you can’t be quiet, I’ll cover your mouth,” I whisper.
“Do it,” she moans.
I smirk and cover her mouth. She moans and bites me, not too hard. I growl and fuck her with my fingers before teasing her clit again, rubbing it, rolling it faster and faster. I kiss her neck and she’s moving her hips against my hand, struggling, pushing.
I growl as her body tenses. She’s moaning into my hand, her eyes wild. They roll back as she comes, her muscles shaking, her knees nearly giving out. I keep going, rubbing her clit, teasing her, driving her wild. I’m so fucking hard, I worry I might rip out of my pants entirely, but I keep it together and finish her off.
She staggers and leans against me. I pull my hand from her jeans and make her suck my fingers clean. When I’m done, I kiss her gently and push her back up against the wall. She stares at me and bites her lip, jeans undone, hair a mess.
“I have to go,” I say. “I’ll see you later.”
She blinks. “Wait. What?”
I grin and kiss her. “See you later.”
I slip back out through the music room door and shut it behind me. Better give her a minute to pull herself together.
I leave the room with a smile on my face.13DeliaI wake up early Sunday morning, beg Dorian to make me one of his magic omelets, then head out for a hike.
As I step into the backyard and take a deep breath of fresh air, I consider calling up Patricks and asking for an escort. Max isn’t working, so I can’t go right to him, but still. It occurs to me that walking around alone in the woods right now might not be the best idea in the world.
But whatever. It’s a dumb decision, but I don’t feel like going back inside. I’m heading out to Max’s place anyway, hoping to surprise him. And this time, without the breaking and entering.
It’s a nice morning and I find it hard to believe that anything bad could happen in Loftville. This whole town is the definition of sleepy. It basically exists because of the Lofthouse family. Whenever a business is on the brink of closing, some magical new loan appears, or new customers come out of the woodwork, or something happens to make it easier for the owners. Maybe it’s a break on an old loan, or maybe it’s free rent. But whatever it is, the Lofthouse family makes sure it happens for the people of this town.
That doesn’t mean they have it easy. My parents are basically everyone’s landlord and they all owe them fealty more or less. If anyone wants to be critical of the Lofthouse family, they’d better do it somewhere else, or they’ll find their house up for sale the next day.
Okay, that’s not true, but it’s the myth my family created and continues to perpetuate.
It’s strange how a place like this can even exist, but that’s a testament to the power and wealth of my family.
I stomp along the path, oblivious to the world around me. Birds chatter in the trees, squirrels run around the branches, and I make enough noise to wake up the dead. I have my earbuds in and I’m listening to a podcast about economics, trying to envision a world in which I own a store again and don’t feel like such a failure, and I almost don’t see him.