Hang Tough(82)
“Really? Why not?”
“Because I was her fuck toy and it makes me sound like an idiot.”
“Were you in love with her and broken-hearted when she left you?” Jade asked softly.
“No. That’s the thing. I was pissed at myself for having shitty judgment. After that? I decided hookups were best even when I always wanted something more meaningful.”
Jade remained quiet a beat too long.
“What are you thinking about?”
“You being a fuck toy. I hate that for you.”
Tobin tipped her head back. “But?”
“I don’t want you to treat me the opposite. I’m petite . . . and you’re big all over. Bigger than I imagined. But you don’t treat me like I’m fragile. You haven’t so far. However . . .” She drilled her finger into his pectoral. “I don’t want any set schedules. You, Mr. Math Genetics dude, looking at the clock, thinking, ‘It’s been eight hours. Maybe I should wait another two before we go at it again.’”
He blushed. He saw himself doing that very thing.
“Here’s a scenario. I’m finishing the dishes and you’re . . . having a frosty beverage in the living room. It’s been four hours. Then you think of something or maybe you’re watching porn on your phone and you get hard and you want to fuck. Do you, one: yell ‘Babe, it’s go time’ over your shoulder, or do you, two: come up behind me in the kitchen and whisper, ‘Are you sore?’”
“None of the above.” Tobin rolled on top of her. “First off, if I ever yell ‘Babe, it’s go time’ and I’m expecting to get laid? Punch me in the nuts. Seriously.”
She laughed. “Deal.”
“Secondly, you aren’t gonna be doin’ dishes while I’m sitting on the couch drinking a fucking beer. You wash and I’ll dry or whatever. Then maybe when we’re almost done with the dishes, I hook the towel around your neck and pull your body against mine. Maybe I tease you until you’re ready to blow. Maybe I finger you until you’re wet and making those sexy little gasps. Maybe I grab the lube out of the junk drawer because I’ve started stashing it all over the damn house, just in case”—he grinned—“and I strip you down to skin, right there. After I hoist you onto the counter and I’m kissing you everywhere, my mouth lands like here”—he dragged his finger along her collarbone—“or here”—he pressed his thumb into the pulse point at the base of her throat—“or all the way along here”—he started at her earlobe and followed the curve of her neck across her shoulder.
Jade’s breathing turned choppy.
“As I’m doin’ all that tasting and licking of your skin on the top, I’ve shoved my pants down, squirted lube on my cock and have your hot cunt aligned perfectly so I can slam into you with one snap of my hips. I fuck you however your mouth and body tells me you need it. Fast. Slow. Deep. Shallow. After you come screaming my name and I get off pounding into your tight pussy . . . I don’t think either of us will remember if I asked you if you were sore.”
“There’s a sink full of dishes down there right now.”
Tobin laughed and kissed her. “I’ll file away ‘fucking on the kitchen counter’ as a future possibility.”
“I like the lube-all-over-the-house idea. Since it’s just us and we can be spontaneous.”
“I’ll start carrying it in my front pocket.”
“Good. And let’s skip the condoms. I have the implant so we’re covered for pregnancy. I haven’t had sex with a real live penis since my senior year in college so no VD.”
“Same.” He brushed his mouth across hers. “No condoms from here on out. And since I gave you my assorted sexual backstory . . . give it up, tiger.”
“It’s so typical and boring. High school boyfriend punched my V-card midway through the summer before college. So we had sex like . . . maybe six times. It always seemed rushed.”
Tobin made a mental note to slow things down next time.
“He chose Stanford; I stayed in New York and went to Columbia. We broke it off before he left. No bitterness or drama. I dated here and there. A lot of group dates. Some one-on-ones. I didn’t have sex again until my sophomore year. We were together about a few months. We didn’t have sex all that often. The dorms are small and privacy was a joke. It felt skeevy taking a date to my parents’ house so we could screw. I had a few hookups after that. My dry spell began after I graduated and continued until I met you.” She nipped his chin. “So it’s been stellar so far. Hot motel sex. Walk of shame in the grocery store. Amazing oral and a trip to pound town before noon. A refreshing nap and some cuddling.” She shrieked when he poked her in the ribs. “And I’m still sprawled naked in the early afternoon, with the hottest, sexiest, sweetest guy I’ve ever been with.”