Beneath The Skin(39)

“There’s nothing going on.”

“You’re afraid.” I close the distance between us, startling her when my face appears inches from hers. “You’re afraid of me, Nell.”

“Fuck you.”

“Wish you would.”

“That’s all you care about.”

“You’re still afraid of me, Nell.”

“I’m afraid of nothing.”

“If I’m being honest here, I’m kinda fuckin’ afraid of you, too.”

Her eyes change, staring into mine with intensity at those words. The tension is pulsing from her stiffened posture, her clenched hands, her unmoving arms and frozen face. I suddenly feel like I’ve just said exactly the right thing to reach her. She’s caught in my grip, hanging on my words.

“I’m afraid of you, Nell,” I go on, “because you’re really … fucking interesting.” I huff at the total inadequacy of those words and how difficult it is to articulate anything when I’m this damn close to her face. “And, like … you’re really … fucking hot.”

“Brant …”

“And you’re deep,” I finish. “You’re so deep. And I’m … I’m not.”

“Brant …”

“But I want to be. So fucking bad.”

She grabs hold of my shirt and pulls me into her face.

Our lips join, and I taste her at last.

Her tongue darts out, slips past my lips as if it were my own. I might say it tickles if it weren’t for the fluttering that suddenly chases up and down my body.

And then an entirely different fluttering happens when I feel her touch my arm, her fingers crawling up the length of it as we kiss.

My skin prickles, like the winter has cast an early cold front up the tiny hairs on my arms.

I can’t stand what it does to me, so I bring a hand to the back of her head and tangle my fingers in her beautiful, soft hair.

We pull apart for one moment, her eyes gently observing mine, my eyes hungrily staring at hers.

Then I pull her back in with a breathy sound, fisting her hair.

I don’t even know where I am when we kiss.

We’re on the move. Our feet create a dance as our tongues create another, until I back into a short platform and find myself sitting down on it. Nell straddles my lap, her tight ass pressing against my cock as she wraps her arms around me and tunnels into my mouth with her tongue.

And it’s a slow tunneling. It’s a slow, patient, dominating act with which her tongue caresses my tongue and her lips cover mine. It’s like a war of mouths that we’re both meant to win.

My phone buzzes with another text.

She doesn’t seem to hear it. And if she did, she’s ignoring it just as I am ignoring it, holding her firmly against my body as our mouths find the dessert that we didn’t bother getting at the restaurant.

The phone buzzes again.

She pulls away this time, staring expectantly in my eyes. We breathe heavily, staring at one another. My cock flexes by instinct, pushing up excitedly against her ass, and I give Nell a wiggle of my eyebrows.

“What?” she murmurs.

“My cock recognizes you,” I tell her very seriously.

She plays along. “Well, he ought to. He has met me more than once. Though I think he might be better acquainted with my foot.”

My phone buzzes a third fucking time.

She glances at it sitting on the pedestal next to me, then wrinkles her face. “Clay-Boy?”

“Oh.” I’d thought it was the dancer again. “That’s my best friend who doesn’t live with me anymore.”

“The not-gay one?”

“Yep.”

“With the actress girlfriend?”

“You know,” I say, pulling her in tightly, “as much as I’d love to sit here and chat about all my lovely friends, I’ve got a boner pressed against your ass that’s fast deflating at the mention of them.”

“Do you and your gay roommates mess around?” she asks. “Y’know, when you’re super horny and you—”

“No.”

I grip under her thighs and lift her up, startling her to the point of earning myself a little shriek.

Carrying her to the kitchen, I set her on the counter, unbutton her jeans, then grip the waistband. She freezes, and we stare at one another challengingly.

“The idea of two guys getting it on kinda works me up,” she admits, finally lifting her hips so I can slide her pants off.

“Don’t say that around my roommates. You’ll give them ideas.”

“So you’ve thought of it?”

I grip her panties next. “Nope.”

“I talked you into becoming my art project. I think I can talk you into—”