Page 32 of The Sweet Spot

JB's thick fingers press into my hips as he yanks me back onto his cock, each stroke forcing me to take every inch.

“That's it,” he rasps, his thick fingers press into my hips as he leans forward. “You're such a good girl. Do you like this?”

His pace is steady and relentless, and he owns me with every thrust. I’ve never felt so small and so thoroughly taken care of. Frankly, I never realized how much I crave it.

His body pulls away as his hand slides up my spine and fists into my hair. When he tugs my head back, I arch for him, lost in the new sensation.

“Answer me, Coach,” he rasps.

I whimper helplessly, pushing back against him, needing more. “Yes... fuck, yes. JB——”

He pulls me up so I'm flush against his chest and reaches around, sliding one hand between my legs to circle my clit as he continues to fuck me.

“You’re close aren’t you?” he says with his lips against my neck. “Don’t you dare come until I say so.”

“JB—” I gasp, my voice wrecked.

I’m shaking uncontrollably now, grasping the pillow as the pressure builds. I'm about to—

Knock. Knock. Knock.

I take in a sharp breath as I sit up in bed, and then look around, panting.

My forehead’s sweaty, my nipples are erect, and I'm... fully clothed?

“JB?” I whisper, glancing at the bed beside me. Throwing the bedsheet back, I'm disappointed to see he's not there.

Was it all a dream?

My pussy is throbbing, aching for the release I was so close to getting just a few seconds ago.

“Fuck,” I mutter under my breath as I collapse back onto the bed. “We haven't even had sex.”

I drape my hand over my eyes, disappointed in myself. I just had a wet dream about my golf partner.

Ever since our 'moment' in the golf cart, I can't stop thinking about him.

I drape my arm across my eyes, hoping it will erase all memory—or should I say fantasy—of JB.

“You were made for me weren't you, baby?”

I shiver.

Nope. That's not helping.

Every time I close my eyes, my core throbs, reminding me how good he was with his fingers. How they found that perfect spot and made me come so hard I saw stars.

No. There's only one way to solve this weird finger fixation I have, and that's to erase any memory of him by doing it myself.

Blowing out a long, somewhat disappointed breath, I close my eyes and bring one of my hands under the covers. When I reach the waistband of my shorts, I stop.

I'm gonna need to pull some porn up if I want to think of something other than JB.

I reach for my phone on the nightstand.

Knock. Knock. Knock.

My hand hovers over the device, and my head whips to my door.