Pose (Club Kitten Dancers 2)

“James, I can’t wait to feel you inside of me,” she murmurs.

“Do you have a condom?” I ask, suddenly realizing I left mine in the car.

“I’m on the pill. I’m clean,” she says, looking up at me. That’s all the clearance I need before I pull my own pants down, freeing my cock, and slide inside of her.

She’s wet and ready and fucking tight.

“James,” she moans, gripping my shoulders. Over and over I plunge into Kasey, and as I make love to her, my stress vanishes, my worries disappear. I’m not thinking about my leg or how hard it was to cope with its loss. I’m not thinking about how alone I felt when I came back from deployment. I’m not thinking about how hard it is to lose my career at such a young age.

I’m not thinking about anything but her and how perfect she is for me.

I kiss her neck, hold her cheek, stroke her hair. I pinch her nipples and she arches her back, thrusting her body closer to mine. Soon I’m getting close and I know she is, too. Her body is tense and tight against mine. Her breathing quickens, like she’s ready, like she needs this just as much as I do.

Reaching between us, I gently rub her clit as I thrust into her.

“More,” she groans. I rub harder, faster, until that’s it, until she’s coming and so am I, twin explosions in the dark of night.

Chapter 8

Kasey

He offers his hand and I take it, bl

ushing as I hop off my counter. I reach for my clothes, but James stops me and pulls me close. He hasn’t even pulled his pants back up yet, and I giggle.

“That was perfect,” he says.

Then he slips. He grabs the counter, but his pants are sort of tangled around his legs, and he falls backward.

“Fuck!” I screech, but I can’t do anything as he falls and hits the ground. He fucking fell, tripped, and now he’s on my kitchen floor. If I wasn’t sober before, I certainly am now, and I kneel down to help him up.

“I’m okay,” he says, and I can tell he’s embarrassed.

“Something tells me you’re trying to make me feel more comfortable about my own clumsiness,” I joke, and he gives me a little smile. The red in his cheeks betray the smile, though. He hates this. The last thing he probably wanted to think about tonight was his damn leg. He’s in his early 20s. He shouldn’t have to worry about something like whether he’s going to trip with his leg after sex.

“Don’t,” James says.

“What?”

“Don’t pity me.” He yanks his pants on.

“I don’t pity you.”

“Really? Because you went from looking like I was the best sex you’ve ever had to looking like you feel sorry for me. Never feel sorry for me, Kasey. I don’t feel bad for serving my country.”

I press my hands to James’ chest, running my fingers over the broad width of his body. He’s muscular and strong. I’m sure he’s smaller than he was before his injury, but that sort of thing doesn’t bother me. Never has.

“Best sex I’ve ever had, eh?”

“Don’t tell me it’s not true.”

“It’s true, but…”

“But what?”

“But I might need a round two. You know, just to make sure.”

He laughs and his body relaxes.