Body Shot (Last Shot)(19)

She remembered her panties ripping…him entering her…so thick and hard. He was a big man…stretching her tight channel with his cock, filling her with such a delicious pressure, pleasure pulling up hard and tight inside her, just like it was now, twisting and burning…

Her cellphone buzzed on the desk. She jerked her hand out of her panties and bolted up in the chair, nearly falling off it. Shit. It wasn’t like someone had just walked in on her—why was she so jumpy?

Biting her lip with guilt, she grabbed her phone and peered at it. She didn’t recognize the number. She swiped to answer. “Hello?”

“Hi, gorgeous.”

Beck. She’d recognize that smoky voice anywhere. “Hi.”

“Did I catch you at a bad time? You sound out of breath.”

“No, I-I was just…” Masturbating. While thinking of you…“Um, doing some work.”

“Really? Your work makes you sound really sexy.”

Her cheeks burned and she closed her eyes. If he knew what she’d really been doing…

“I have something for you I want to drop off.”

She swallowed. “Now?”

“Sure. Unless it’s a bad time for you.”

She struggled to fill her lungs with oxygen, the adrenaline rush of being startled doing the two-fingered slot rumba tingling through her veins. She shouldn’t do this…“No, it’s fine.”

“Just need your address, sexy girl.”

Oh God. She wasn’t a sexy girl. But right now she felt…yes, sexy. Wanton. And dammit, aroused. She gave him her address and a few brief directions.

“On my way.”

Great. Fantastic. She set down her phone with trembling hands. Her pussy pulsed with unfulfilled need. She just needed to come…it would take him a while to get there. Probably. Actually she had no idea where he lived, or where he was calling from…

Unable to stop herself, she slipped her hand into her shorts and panties again and stroked herself. It didn’t take long to get that feeling back, that coiling sweetness that spiraled up into a peak and then burst in a shimmering explosion of heat and sparks.

She lay back in the chair, breathing fast, heart skipping, muscles lax. Whoa. What was even happening to her?

She wasn’t sure how long she stayed sprawled in the chair, once more remembering the feel of Beck’s body against hers, inside hers, the scent of his skin, the taste of his mouth…This had never happened to her. It was like someone had spiked her coffee with some kind of aphrodisiac.

Finally, she roused herself enough to rise. She needed to wash her hands…he’d probably be able to smell her arousal on her fingers…or maybe she should have a shower…no, no time for that. She hurried to the bathroom and washed her hands. When she looked into the mirror, she blinked. Oh my God. Her face was tomato red. She stared in horror. Did she always look like that after an orgasm? That was mortifying, thinking that last night he’d gazed down into her face after she’d come—twice!—and seen this. What was she going to do about that now? There was no way to will the blood away from her cheeks. Even her nose was scarlet.

She ran the water cold and splashed some onto her face, hoping that would cool down her overheated skin, but it was probably hopeless. Then she glanced down at herself, at the pair of gray fleece shorts and baggy T-shirt she wore. So not sexy.

But that was good. Good, good, good. She didn’t want to appear sexy. She did not want him to know she’d been sitting there fantasizing about him and touching herself—

Her doorbell rang.

She went still, drew in a long breath, and let it out with a sound that sounded almost like a whimper.

She dried her hands on the towel, then hurried to the door. Yes, it was him.

He gave her that lazy smile, teeth white in his dark beard, when she opened the door. “Hi.”

Guilt and awareness made her throat dry and her voice squeaky as she said, “Hi.”

He lifted an eyebrow. “Can I come in?”

She wanted to shout No! But with her heart slamming against her ribs, she opened the door wider and stepped aside.

“Cute place,” he said as he strolled in with that long-legged, athletic grace.

“No, it’s not.” She shut the door and followed him into her living room. “It’s basic.” She’d wanted somewhere close to the university and her lab, so this wasn’t exactly a posh neighborhood. She didn’t make a lot of money as an associate professor and only took a small salary from the business, so she wasn’t in a position to splurge on a new place. She also didn’t have a lot of time for decorating, but Carrie’d helped her pick out furniture, frame a few photographs, and arrange some of the things that had belonged to her parents, and she was comfortable here in her little condo.