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“You like what you see?” he asks with one eye open.
Licking my lips, I say, “I certainly do.”
“Isn’t it better to play nice?”
“It was dirty play, Coop. And that is the best kind of fun there is.” I straddle him, the way I did when I accidentally fell on him during our workout. My hands on his chest feel the steady beat of his heart increase and become erratic as I rub my wetness over the hard length of his cock. Back and forth, teasing him.
Large hands grip my waist, but he doesn’t try to control my movements. He’s letting me play, as he says. I take him in at my own leisure, exploring him with my eyes. The tone of his skin, the fine hair that dusts his chest and arms. The way he gets goosebumps when I press harder into him.
When I’ve wet him enough, I lift myself slightly, placing his penis at my entrance. I look into his eyes, because I like to see what a man feels as they slide in. That moment they lose themselves in me. But when I look into Dean’s eyes, it’s me that suddenly feels lost. I hover over him, hesitating because the feeling is so foreign.
His hands move up from my waist, over my back. He pulls me down, bringing my breasts to his lips. I throw my head back as he runs his tongue over the underside of my breast, then slowly up to my nipple. I let my instinct guide me now, and drop, impaling myself on him.
Dean’s arms tighten around me, holding me close, preventing me from riding him. Instead, he drives his hips up, over and over, pounding into me.
With my face in his neck, I cry out from the sheer pleasure of being this close to him, where my entire body feels enveloped. He is inside me and all around me, yet it’s not enough.
In one motion, he rolls me over, pushing my legs back, filling me deep. I cling to him because I’m lost. Everything but the feeling of him disappears. When his mouth covers mine and the taste of him fills my mouth, I explode until there is nothing left of me but little bits of happiness. He reaches his own pleasure, releasing onto my belly.
He rolls off content and half asleep, grabbing a towel from somewhere and wiping me down. We stay like that for a long while, luxuriating in the afterglow.
But as with any high, this one eventually fades. Though I really want to experience it again, the fact that I do tells me it’s time to go.
I lean over and bite his shoulder, regretting that I have to leave the warmth of his bed.
He props himself up on a pillow, watching me dress. “Why are you leaving? I thought we could grab dinner, watch the sunset.”
Shaking my head at him, I laugh. “That sounds too much like a date to me. And I told you, I don’t date.” As I say the words, I pick up my phone from the kitchenette counter, reading the messages to make sure Reese hasn’t called.
There are no missed calls, but there is one unread message. It’s from Dean.
-But kitty, this is a date.
“What is this?” I ask, holding the screen up for him to see.
“A phone?” the smarty pants replies.
“No, I mean this message. When did you send it?” I scramble with it, only to discover it came in about two seconds after his initial “I give in” text, right before I jumped out of my seat and made a B-line to Dean’s dick. “Well how do you like them cranberries?” I say. “You tricked me.”
“How did I trick you?”
“I told you I don’t do dates,” I cry.
“And I told you I don’t do casual sex. I’m sorry if you didn’t read your messages, kitty cat. I guess you were too desperate to jump my bones.” He smiles as he lays back against the white fluffy pillows, overly pleased.
My mouth drops open, but nothing comes out because he’s right. In fact, I’d seen that another message had come in from him, but chose to ignore it.
“Come back to bed, Cat. We’ve already consummated our relationship.” His devilish smile tells me he’s teasing, though I also know he means it.
It infuriates me that somehow I’ve been on a few dates with this guy. I look down at the ugly blue bracelet that still circles my wrist, reminding me of one of those dates. If he hadn’t tied it so well, I’d have already taken it off. At least that’s what I tell myself.
“I really have to go, Coop.” I grab my car keys, but turn back to him before I leave. “This stays between us, okay. I don’t want anyone at work getting wind of this.”
“Why not? We’re allowed to date!” he yells at my back as I retreat.
“We aren’t dating! And just so YOU don’t get the wrong idea, this will not happen again. Thank you for a great time.” I race through the door, leaving with the delicious image of him between the rumbled sheets.
Sex scenes invade my brain, every single one of them starring one Dean Cooper. Pulling my hair as I drive away does nothing to dispel the memory of him.
