Getaway Girl (Girl 1)
It’s out of my mouth before I can stop myself. Addison quirks a brow. “Why not?”
This was a bad idea. I can’t operate when half my brain cells have relocated to my groin. “No reason.” I cross my arms and look stern. “Do you carry pepper spray?”
“Yes. And a miniature knife disguised like a key.” She takes a loose-hipped step in my direction, and the other half of my brain cells join their friends. “What’s this about not running in public?”
“Addison, drop it.”
“No. It’s weird.”
“Well now I really want to tell you.” She watches me and waits with a rare patience. “It’s my ass. When I run outdoors, they…for some odd reason…like to photograph it. There might even be a…” I have to sigh. “…a slow-motion GIF floating around somewhere on the internet.”
The silence carries for one beat, two, until Addison bursts into laughter. “Holy shit. I was not expecting that.” And just like I should have anticipated before opening my idiot mouth, she circles around behind me, hands linked together beneath her chin—a kid on Christmas morning—but I turn in time to evade her.
She gasps and follows. “I just realized you always untuck your dress shirt before walking in my front door. Have you been hiding a GIF-worthy ass from me, Elijah Montgomery Du Pont?”
“Addison Potts, this conversation is indecent.”
“I’m an indecent kind of girl.”
I frown at her. “You most certainly are not.”
She tosses her hair. “How would you know?”
That question distracts me long enough for her to get around the back of me. I’m so distracted, actually, wondering if Addison was referring to her sex life, I don’t try to stop her when she lifts the back hem of my T-shirt and…growls. She growls.
“Elijah…it’s glorious.”
“People usually reserve that tone for the Sistine Chapel.”
“Not even Michelangelo could have pulled this off.”
The press has been fascinated by my ass since I ran for my first government position and my reaction has always been mild annoyance. Confusion. Fine, maybe some self-consciousness. Honestly, it’s just a butt. Get over it. Everyone has one and they’re all shaped differently. My reaction to Addison essentially whispering in awe over it…that’s quite another story. And it shouldn’t be. We should have a laugh about this and go our separate ways for the day. Just like usual. Just like friends do.
My cock is heavy and uncomfortable, though, and it has more than a little bit to do with her breath on my back, her fingers brushing my spine. Knowing she likes what she sees is not helping my situation whatsoever, either. Especially not while she’s wearing a bra and leggings.
“Addison—”
“May I?”
“May you what?”
“Just a teeny tiny squeeze? It’s so thick but it looks rock hard.”
I grit my teeth and breathe through my nose. “Christ.”
“Your ears are red.” A floorboard creaks as she steps closer, her voice softening. “You’re actually insecure about it, aren’t you?”
Maybe. But not right now. I can’t think of anything but my immortal erection and how she’d be confused about what’s between us if she saw it. She’d think I want more. Right now in this moment, more is obviously what my body wants, too. But we’d regret it afterward.
“Is that a hard no on the squeezing?”
She starts to lower my shirt and hear myself rasp, “No. Go ahead.”
Big mistake. Her palms slide down over both curves, fingers splayed and my balls tighten. Hard. “Oh my God,” she breathes, gripping me, fingertips digging in deep. “I’m your friend, Elijah. I wouldn’t lie to you, all right?” Her hands slide down, down and she lifts me, warm breath casting over the middle of my back—and are those her breasts brushing me ever so slightly? Jesus. I’m still as a statue but I’m chaos on the inside. She’s your friend. Pull your shit together. “When people stare at you here? They either want to sink their teeth into it. Or they’re just jealous. Own it.”
I’m in the process of turning around with no idea of my game plan—I’m not going to kiss her, am I? I can’t—when Addison drops my shirt and breezes past me with a bright smile, her own backside twitching side to side in the black, shiny material. “Catch you later, Captain.”
I’m relieved when the door closes behind her. Right?
Yes. No. Not sure. I’m not sure of anything as I stride to my bedroom and kick the door closed behind me. It’s rattling on the hinges when I shove a hand into my sweatpants and wrap a fist around my hard-on. “Ohhhhh fuck,” I grit out, my body hunched over the bed, left hand planted there to keep me standing, my right fist pumping in a blur. I only make it about two seconds before I think of Addison turning around to present her ass, asking me in her smoky voice to return the favor and squeeze her back. “Bad girl bad girl,” I pant, biting down on my lip and drawing blood as fantasy Addison tugs down those leggings and presses the side of her face to the mattress. “Ah God, looks so tight.”