Page 67 of Long Story Short

“Whatever it is, you’re doing it to me too,” I answer honestly.

His lips twitch with the hint of a smile as his stare meets mine once again. My response must satisfy him because the finger hooked around the fabric of my thong moves slightly, inching the fabric down slowly.

“Good,” he finally gets out. He moves his gaze from mine to follow the trail of the hand exploring my body. It’s reached my chest. His thumb gently brushes over my nipple. I’m so touch-starved for him, I can’t help but moan at the small amount of contact. “I have to be honest with you, though,” he continues, his voice controlled. His thumb swipes over my nipple again—this time harder—causing another moan to escape me.

“How so?”

He pinches my nipple through the fabric of my dress. “Once I taste you”—his gaze moves from my nipple to between my thighs, making it clear where he means—“I don’t think I’ll be able to stop. You better have meant it when you said you wanted more from me because more of you still might not be enough.”

I close my eyes for a moment, his words making my clit throb. Before I can even respond, he’s leaning in and taking my nipple into his mouth, despite the thin layer of fabric that covers it.

I let out a loud moan. I don’t know if I love the way he’s teasing me or if I hate it, but either way, I know I’ve never been so desperate for even the smallest touch from a person the way I am for his.

“Your nipples have been teasing me all night,” he announces. “They’ve been hard and straining against your dress from the moment you showed up at my door.” He pushes the fabric to the side, exposing my breast to him. His breath is hot against my skin as he leans in. “You were naughty, wearing a dress I could see right through. I was trying to enjoy dinner, but I couldn’t help looking at your perfect tits, imagining what it’d be like to do this.” His tongue peeks out and circles around my nipple before he takes it completely in his mouth.

I moan, my eyelids fluttering shut as he continues to circle his tongue around the peaked bud at the same time as his finger in my thong inches closer and closer to my clit.

“Did you wear this dress just for me, Josie?” he asks, his voice low, thick with something that has my stomach clenching.

All I can do is nod.

Tyson must not like that I didn’t answer him because his mouth moves from my nipple as he looks up just enough for his eyes to meet mine. “Tell me. Use your words to tell me that you put this dress on just for me.”

He tugs on the fabric of my thong, coaxing it down my thighs. When I still don’t answer him, he halts the movement of my panties.

“I wore it just for you,” I hurriedly get out.

A slow, satisfied smile curves his mouth. “Good girl.”

The words send a wave of heat and desire through me.

To further prove a point, he yanks on the lacy fabric of my thong and pulls it off my body. Instead of tossing it to the side, he tucks it into his pocket as his gaze stays locked between my thighs.

My instinct is to close my legs—to hide—but his hands are there, firm on my legs, as he holds me open.

“Fuck,” he mutters under his breath, his gaze dragging over me slowly like he’s taking everything in. “You’re beautiful.”

The way he says the words—quiet, almost like he’s in awe—makes something in my chest tighten.

I don’t feel exposed at all.

I feel wanted.

Desired.

Craved.

A feeling like nothing I’ve ever felt before.

“So wet for me,” he marvels. As if he can’t get enough, he pushes the fabric of my dress up until it bunches around my waist. One of my breasts still hangs out—my nipple still wet from his mouth—while all of me from my hips down is on complete display for him.

My thighs tremble under his strong hands as he shifts closer. His touch slides higher and slower this time, like he’s deliberately trying to draw this out to tease me.

His mouth finds my skin again, but not where I was expecting him. He presses a kiss to my inner thigh, so soft it’s like a tease.

And then he does it to the other.

He’s close, but it still isn’t enough. I feel like my entire body is on fire, waiting for him to finally touch—and taste—me. All he’s done is play with my nipple, and I’m so turned on that I already feel like I’m close to coming.