Page 9 of Fat

It had been so long since I’d been with someone, I’d forgotten how good this part was—the chase. The build-up where every touch primed you for more. His thumbs brushed the edges of my breasts as he stroked—made me wonder what would happen if I turned into his hand.

Of course, here on a boat in the middle of the river wasn’t exactly the right place to do that. This was the tease. I braced my hands on his thighs and they were solid as concrete. I repositioned myself, but really it was just an excuse to rub myself against him and offer the best view of my cleavage.

He grew bolder with his touch, dragging his fingers over my collar bone, down my arm, then back up again. It was a challenge not to arch my back, demand more. I wanted his hands all over me.

I’d already decided I was going to sleep with him, that was a given. This all felt much too good to deny myself.

“Your skin is so soft.” He continued in the same, unhurried manner—as if he’d be content to pet me like some kitten all night.

It was time to up the ante. I’d tell him what I wanted. It was easy for me to do that when I already knew a guy wanted me. I knew all the tricks, all the moves… I played the game of seduction well. As long as it was a guaranteed win.

I flexed my fingers around his jean-clad thighs, lightly kneading. “And you’re so hard.”

“Yeah, I am.” His breath was warm against my ear and his stroking stopped.

I made a small sound of protest, but one arm was around my waist while the other, the one that was between me and the back of the bench, moved so that his hand slid under my dress—hidden by my crinoline.

To any passerby, we just appeared to be a couple cuddling under the stars.

But my breath caught in my throat as his hand moved steadily up between my thighs.

“Do you want this, Claire?”

Who wouldn’t? “Yes.”

He was like some kind of magician, dipping his fingers past my panties and moving in a primal rhythm that lit me on fire.

“I’m going to make you come so hard and long you’ll beg me to stop.”

“Tell me how.”

“You like it dirty?” he asked in a low tone.

Apparently, I did tonight. It was like I was possessed, I wasn’t me. I wasn’t this wanton thing, this woman who let a guy do these things to her in a public place. Or on a first date.

But I didn’t want to be Claire anyway. I wanted to be the version of Claire I painted up like some goddess of womanhood and confidence. The version I always pretended to be.

“I like it dirty, I like it clean—I just like it.”

“You’re so wet and hot. I can’t wait to taste you.” He plunged deeper, his thumb brushing lightly over my clit.

Shivers of pleasure and anticipation ricocheted through me and I struggled not to buck my hips too obviously.

“You’re so fucking beautiful.”

The orgasm that hit me was unexpected and almost uncomfortable. There’d been no long, slow build. No ratcheting up of sensation, it just crashed into me like a wrecking ball. I just shuddered against his hand.

I knew what had done it, what had pushed me over the edge. His raw confession about how he thought I was beautiful.

I was so pathetic.

But Brant didn’t seem to think so. “I love how responsive you are. Just wait until I get you alone.” He nipped at my ear, and normally, I’d find that obnoxious, but somehow from Brant, I liked it.

“I don’t want to wait. There’s got to be a bathroom on this tub.” I turned my face into his neck and nipped him back.

His grip around my waist tightened. “There is, but I don’t have any latex.”

“Why not?” My voice was a little higher pitched than I meant it to be.

“Because I didn’t want to screw this up by trying to get in your pants.”

“You blew past that one orgasm ago.”

He laughed. “I guess I did. You were just too damn enticing and you smell like candy. What’s a man to do?”

“If I smell like candy, I guess that means you should lick me.” I teased.

“I guess I should.” He put his hand to his lips and sucked his finger into his mouth. “Yeah, just like candy.”

That might have been the most decadent thing I’d ever seen. I had to cross my legs as another tremor shot through me. I guess in the scheme of things, it wasn’t that big a deal, but no one had ever done that after touching me. No one had ever been that enamored of me.

This feeling Brant wrought in me was addictive. I wanted more of it. Not just the pleasure, but the other things. Feeling wanted. Feeling beautiful.

“You’re good with your mouth. Looks like you’ve had some practice.” I nodded at him.

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