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I raise an eyebrow. “You want me to model for you?”
“Why not,” he says easily as he sips from a bottle of Perrier.
“Because if I model for you, you’ll know what will happen.”
He grins. “Why don’t you tell me what will happen.”
“You full well know we’ll have sex.”
“And is that such a bad thing?”
“I’m sore,” I whine.
Foster closes the distance to stroke my face with his knuckles. “I’m sorry, baby. I was a little rough with you last night.”
“It’s not how hard you fuck me; it’s your size.”
“I can’t do anything about my size. Suppose I’m gentler, will that help?”
“I doubt it, and I also doubt I’ll be satisfied with gentler.”
“Will you still model for me?”
“No.”
He almost chokes on his water. “Excuse me?”
“You won’t tell me where we’re going tomorrow, so I’m not showing you what I got.”
“Brat.”
“Deal with it.”
Foster puts the bottle down on the counter and prowls after me. I move around the counter, so I’m standing opposite of him with a wide grin on my face.
“You want to play games?” he playfully vocalizes as he loosens his red tie.
“I like your games, but you have to catch me first.” I dart toward the hall, but Foster is faster than I anticipated. He catches me by the arm and pins me against the wall, pressing his hard body against mine. It’s no surprise that he’s erect.
He snakes his hand under my skirt. “You didn’t put up much of a fight. I should fuck you right here.”
I squeal when his fingers press against the sheer panel of my panties, stroking determinedly over my clit.
“Foster,” I breathe.
“You like that you little tease?”
I nod and close my eyes. Before long, Foster is bringing me close to orgasm. Of the boyfriends I’ve had, he is the only one who could get me off this fast. He always knows where to touch me. I moan, and my legs grow weak.
“Say my name, baby. I want to hear it when you come.”
“Foster…”
“Again.”
“Foster!” I cry as my release tears through me, making me grip the sleeves of his charcoal jacket. He continues stroking me until I’m clawing at his hand.
“Let go, Paige.”
